The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Sebastian stared at Citrine, her words echoing in his mind long after she'd

finished speaking. It felt as though something inside him was about to burst, his heart pounding so fast he could hardly breathe.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her. "You're right," he finally said, voice low but certain.

He admired her deeply-for her vision, her compassion. He knew, too, that he would never be able to match her, not really.

In that instant, Sebastian understood why so many people were drawn to Citrine, why they fell so easily under her spell. She was worth it, plain and simple.

By the time Citrine and Sebastian reemerged from below deck, each in a dry change of clothes, they found Quentin surfacing near the boat, dragging Hastings with him.

Quentin's face was drawn and serious. He barely spared them a glance before shouting, "Give me a hand! Hurry!"

With his eyes squeezed shut and several fresh cuts on his arms, Quentin looked more battered than either of them had ever seen. Citrine took one look at the situation and was at the railing in an instant, Sebastian right behind her.

his arm!" she called,

into position, bracing

limp body to them before clambering onto the boat himself, drenched and out

voice tight with

her focus fully to Hastings. "Lay him flat," she

Sebastian complied without hesitation.

her voice sharp, trying to rouse him. When he

suddenly choked and coughed up seawater, his

to, Citrine quietly stepped aside to give him

blinked up at the faces around him. The first person he

breathing hard. "Citrine, I knew you wouldn't just leave me," he said, voice thick with emotion. "You must care about me at

idea how ridiculous you sound right now?" Citrine's voice was

been watching this exchange with growing exasperation, finally spoke up.

het

he said flatly. "She just