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He shook his head. “What a way to meet. And then she gets a gig working here. Shit. What are the chances?”

That thought had crossed my mind on a few occasions.

“You look happy, man.” He slapped me on the back. “And hey”—he stretched out his arms—“this circuit’s a ballbreaker. Can’t wait to get to work. Do we get to trial it first?”

“That’s what the publicist wants so that she can bring in a film crew and have us former soldiers going through the motions.”

“Let me guess. Shirtless?”

I rolled my eyes and nodded. “Uh-huh. I’ve even had a producer approach with an idea for a reality show involving troubled youth and how we help then find a cleaner path.”

“That will take longer than eight weeks, won’t it?”

“I’m not expecting miracles here.”

“Have you sourced the first forty kids?”

“Yep. Recently released. Repeat offenders convicted of minor misdemeanours. We’re staying away from the violent ones though.”

“What age group?”

“Thirteen to seventeen,” I said.

“Out-of-control hormones. Ugly. Remember us?”

“Sure. But instead of breaking into cars, I was looking for where I could park my dick.” I pointed at Chatting Wood. “I fucked my brains out in there.”

He laughed. “I bet you did. A girl from every farm?”

I went serious for a moment. “That’s why I joined the army.”

“Oh, shit, you got a girl in trouble?”

“Sort of.” I rubbed my jaw. “Come on. Let’s go into the hall. I’ll get you a drink.”

As we made our way back to Merivale, Theadora’s question about Jasmine entered my thoughts. Mirabel Storm had shared more than just music with Theadora. I left it vague. I had to because I didn’t want to bring up that ugly chapter in my life.

The army might have temporarily bludgeoned my past out of me, but now that I was back, it was still staring me in the face.

I walked into my mother’s office, which also doubled as a library, and found her peering at the sweeping vista of endless green fields through the window.

Noticing me at last, she pointed at a chair.

“The media for the boot camp has been instructed to stay away from Merivale.”

She exhaled an audible breath. “That’s not why I asked you here.”

Immaculately presented, my mother didn’t wear jeans or activewear or slouch around in comfortable clothes like most people might in their own homes. I can’t even recall seeing her without makeup. On those rare occasions she kissed me on the cheek, she’d always leave a lipstick stain behind.

I loved that Theadora didn’t wear makeup most days. Her skin tasted better, and devouring her exquisite, chemical-free lips made me one very lucky man.

“It’s come to my attention that you’re bedding the maid.”

“Theadora,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “Her name’s Theadora Hart.”

“Yes. Well. She’s very beautiful. I can see that. I like to have attractive people at Merivale. Particularly at dinner parties. I’ve always turned a blind eye to the odd guest flirting with the staff.” She played with a gold engraved fountain pen. “I’m liberal-minded like that.”

“You have to be.”


Tags: J.J. Sorel Billionaire Romance