shoes that had been kicked off onto the carpet, and his suit jacket tossed in a lump on the rumpled bedspread beside her purse. Samantha peeked around the corner to knock on the bathroom door. Rumpled was not a typical state for her fiancé. Had he spilled something on him and come up to change? Was he not feeling well? “Kyle? Are you okay?”
The bathroom was empty, and the light was off. The inkling of concern that he might be ill faded. Samantha flipped on the light switch and studied her reflection in the vanity mirror, adjusting her glasses on her pale face before digging through her cosmetics bag to dust on another layer of blush. She was going to have to reach down deep inside her to find the strength and grace to make this evening the success her father wanted it to be.
Once she was sufficiently convinced there was nothing she could do to transform herself into the beauty of the family, Samantha set out her contact lenses and saline solution. But she quickly put her glasses back on when a more proactive way to improve her evening hit her. She returned to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, giving her squished toes a break, and pulled her cell phone from her purse. It would be more efficient to text Kyle and ask his whereabouts than to wander around the ski lodge in hopes of running into him, or trust that he was simply going to show up in the right place at the right time to propose.
After she hit Send, a buzz answered from Kyle’s jacket.
Samantha frowned. Even more unusual than Kyle tossing his clothes about was his not having his cell with him. She tugged his jacket into her lap. A black velvet ring box fell from the folds of wool. An unexpected twinge of feminine anticipation made her catch her lip between her teeth as she opened the box. The large marquise diamond surrounded by a double halo of emeralds and tiny seed diamonds was much too gaudy for her tastes. She’d never be able to wear this in the lab or out in the field when she was working. She snapped the box shut, trying not to feel too disappointed by his impractical choice. Why hadn’t Kyle bought the simple solitaire she’d shown him?
Since her curiosity had gotten her this far, she didn’t hesitate to pull out the folded slip of paper she found in his jacket pocket when she tucked the ring box back inside. This was probably some sappy poem or crib notes he planned to use when he proposed, instead of honest, heartfelt words.
Samantha’s jaw dropped open and her breath rushed out as her whole future closed in on her in one humiliating, suffocating moment. She read the names and numbers on the paper. This wasn’t even a stupid poem. It was a receipt for the ring. More expensive than she’d imagined. Charged to her stepmother Joyce’s account.
“Why would she buy my engagement ring?” If Kyle didn’t have the money for that shiny eyesore, then he should have purchased something smaller, more tasteful—a gift from the heart she would have treasured. Had he asked her stepmother to visit the jeweler for him because he’d been away on business so much lately and didn’t have time to shop?
She crumpled the receipt in her fist. Maybe this wasn’t about the money or time. Were her father and Joyce that worried about her? She was going through most of this for them. Did they think they were doing all this for her? How much of this whole engagement was for the benefit of public relations and the family name? Was any of this marriage bargain real?
Samantha pulled out the velvet box again and squeezed it in her fist. She was sorely tempted to track Kyle down and shove this ring and whatever bargain he thought he’d made with Joyce and her father down his throat.
The whole bed rattled when something thumped against the wall, startling Samantha from her vengeful thoughts. The interruption gave her a moment to temper her emotions, a moment to think more rationally about her discovery. Maybe her own doubts about this engagement were feeding her suspicion of Kyle.
But then she heard the giggle.
A moment of cold dread was quickly erased by the angry understanding that followed. She should have trusted her instincts. It wasn’t the pomp and circumstance of the evening that made her break out in stress hives. It was the idea of marrying Kyle.
When another thump against the wall made her jump, Samantha went to investigate. The door on her side that could be opened to turn the neighboring rooms into one large suite was unlocked and slightly ajar—as was the connecting door into the next room.
She’d like to go back to that whole television-or podcast-watching theory. But Samantha knew better as she pushed the second door open and entered the room that mirrored her own. Though still hushed, she could distinguish the voices and giggles and breathy moans now. She turned past the desk to the closet door, wishing her hearing was as lousy as her myopic vision.
A woman laughed from inside the closet. “Stop shushing me. You said no one could hear us in here.”
Oh, how she wished she didn’t recognize that voice.
“Just do it, baby. Do it now.” Betrayal drove a stake through her heart at Kyle’s gasping reply. “Stop talking and...”
Samantha whipped the door open to see Kyle leaning against the closet wall and her stepsister, Taylor, kneeling in front of his unzipped pants.
Oh, hell. Oh, double hell.
Kyle swore.
Samantha watched her stepsister tumble onto her bottom as Kyle pushed off the wall. She backed away, shaking her head.
Taylor’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Samantha? Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. I never meant to—”
“Screw my boyfriend?” Seriously? Were those tears? “Or just get caught doing it?”
Kyle made a token effort to button his shirt as he stepped out of the closet. “I can explain.”
“So can I.” Fortunately, he was in a condition that made it difficult for him to hurry after her as Samantha headed to the connecting doors. “Apparently, you lost track of the time. And which sister you’re proposing to.”
Kyle grabbed her wrist and tugged her around to face him. “Baby, you know I’m committed to you.” He captured her by the shoulders, his handsome blue eyes searching hers. Hadn’t he just called Taylor baby? Real special endearment, jackass. “To us. I will see this thing through to the end. I just needed to get this out of my system before we settle down.”
“This? You mean having sex with my sister?” Samantha twisted in his grasp, and his hold on her tightened painfully.
Taylor scrambled to her feet to follow them, tugging her dress down to her knees. “Out of your system? What does that mean? You said—”
“Shut. Up.”
When Kyle turned to dismiss her stepsister, Samantha finally put those three-inch heels to good use and stomped on his stockinged foot, freeing herself. He cursed her and the pain, and stumbled into Taylor. While he teetered off balance, Samantha shoved him back inside the closet, knocking Taylor in with him. The two traitors were falling to the floor, pulling coats and hangers down with them, as she hurled the ring box at them and slammed the door. Tuning out both demands and apologies, she wedged the desk chair beneath the doorknob. Blind with rage and hurt and even a little self-loathing that she hadn’t seen this coming, Samantha marched back to her own room and locked the connecting door behind her. She just wanted to escape. If she’d needed a reprieve from the social event downstairs,
