Free Until I'm Yours by Kennedy Ryan Page A

granite, even though she’s talking about it with someone else.
    “I think the only way a guy like Rip can hold on to a woman like you is to keep her fucked out of her mind, so that’s probably his best strategy. If you stop fucking him long enough to come to your senses, I’d like to take you to dinner.”
    “Dinner?” Her laugh is like cream, rich and decadent. “Why don’t you say what you really want?”
    “I just did. I always do.”
    “Well, it’s a moot point since I’m with Rip and you’re off to Cambodia and I doubt we’ll cross paths again.”
    “You didn’t answer my question. Will you be at the rooftop party tonight or not?”
    Her smile fades to nothing and she blinks several times.
    “I’ll be there with my boyfriend.”
    “I’ll respect that, of course.” I straighten from the little glass structure I almost crushed. “But once he’s out of the picture, which we both know he will be soon, all bets are off, and I’m formally warning you that we go from early level mild interest to full-on pursuit.”
    “You can pursue all you want, but that doesn’t mean you’ll succeed.”
    “That’s like pouring gasoline on a kitchen fire with somebody like me. My high school guidance counselor told me that about going to Princeton, but I got in on a football scholarship. My own parents warned me about leaving college to start Deutimus, and it’s turned out pretty well for me.”
    “Is that what I am to you, then?” She looks at me unsmilingly. “A challenge? Something to be achieved?”
    “I think you’re a woman who hasn’t even begun to show the world who she is.” I consider her for an extra second. “I think in some ways that’s something you’re still trying to figure out yourself, and people engaged in that process fascinate me.”
    “ I think the world and I both already know who I am.” The look she gives me is supposed to be a dismissal, but I’m too much of a stubborn goat to read it as one. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
    So I’ll see her once more before we fly out tomorrow. Another chance to chip away at that sparkling armor. I walk back toward the door, pausing by the garment rack. My imagination puts her in the dark brown minidress, and I practically drool.
    “I like the brown dress, by the way.”
    I shouldn’t have said it. She’ll wear something else just to spite me. That’s okay, though. With this woman, even spite is an aphrodisiac.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Sofie
    I t’s not quite five o’clock when I make my way toward my father’s office, hoping I can speak to him before he leaves, if he’s leaving. He usually has clothes here so he doesn’t have to go to the house. Over the years, he and my mother have devised all manner of ways to avoid being at home at the same time.
    Celeste, Daddy’s assistant, and probable longtime mistress, is packing up when I approach my father’s suite.
    “Ms. Baston, good evening.” Celeste adjusts the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Your father’s wrapping up a call.”
    “Thanks, Celeste. Will you be at the party tonight?”
    “Wouldn’t miss it.” Celeste offers a parting smile before walking out. “See you this evening.”
    When I was a little girl, this office seemed so massive. I felt like Alice in Wonderland, with everything oversize and fantastical. Now when I walk in, knowing the kinds of deals Daddy does behind these doors, it just feels like the black hole Alice tumbled through.
    “Keep me posted.” Daddy speaks into the handset, glancing up at me as I cross the threshold. “Yes. Just let Celeste know.”
    I sit down in the chair across from Daddy’s desk. Anxiety swells inside my throat, not unlike the day I sat in this very office and told him I wouldn’t be going to Princeton, but was heading to Paris for my first runway show. That bastard Kyle Manchester was a dark undertow in that pivotal conversation, just like he is in this one. Only Daddy didn’t know it then.
    The secret