By the end of the race, Connor had claimed the championship, his first-ever win at the rally. The crowd went wild-fans screamed his name, and beautiful women rushed over, angling for a spot on his arm. Yet even as he stood in the winner's circle, Connor's face remained unreadable.

Sure enough, Gwyneth was nowhere to be seen. She'd actually had the nerve to slip away right in the middle of his race.

He'd never met a woman he wanted to pursue, only to end up stood up like this. "Connor, we're hitting the bar tonight. The whole party's set up for you."

He felt hands clap him on the shoulders; a moment later he was hoisted up by his friends and swept off the track, wreathed in cheers and laughter.

Night fell suddenly over Greenvale, that old city humming with centuries of history. Under the pale moonlight, every stone and archway seemed steeped in stories and tradition.

"Mr. Kaufman, you're alone-should I call over some company for you?"

A snap of fingers, and a smiling beauty appeared at his side.

Connor sprawled on the couch, letting the woman kneel gracefully at his feet. She fed him fruit, peeled and sliced, and held her hand out to take the discarded skins and pits when he was done.

All around the private lounge, everyone had brought a date. There were flirtatious laughs and lingering touches, but nothing that crossed a line. Still, it was obvious to everyone-Mr. Kaufman was in no mood to celebrate.

seen Layne? He never misses a party like this," Laird asked, glancing around the room and skipping right over Connor before turning

him money. Nobody could figure out who'd

think. Heard he went traveling with

the end of the year, but they're having the ceremony at the bride's place during the fall festival, then hosting a big reception here in Greenvale

Hawthorne caught

Greenvale, Hawthorne was the stuff of legend. They'd all heard Layne talk about his uncle, but none of them had ever actually

for generations. Hawthorne was the most famous of them, a true old-money heir, and even Layne's status was sky-high just by

"No kidding? I've heard

supposed to be cold

the ascetic type.

couch all night and never laid a finger on her The poor woman went home furious and sick for a

close to the Everharts, but nobody's actually good enough. Layne's new girlfriend? She's as ordinary as they come-no way the Everharts would

kid is obsessed," Connor drawled for the first time that night, finally sitting up

the marrying kind. I wonder what kind of woman could tie down

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