Lost in Him
LOST IN HIM BY HARLOE RAE
Copyright © 2022 by Harloe Rae, LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the publisher listed above, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or purely coincidental.
Editor: Infinite Well
Cover designer: Book Cover Kingdom
Photographer: Rafa G. Catalá
Model: Alvaro
Interior design: Champagne Book Design
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
DEDICATION
PLAYLIST
ABOUT THIS BOOK
EPIGRAPH
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
WHAT TO READ NEXT?
NOVELS BY HARLOE RAE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
For smacking a lofty goal on the ass and saying, “I’ve got this.”
Also, to those looking for an escape in whatever shape or form that might take.
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“It’s an interesting tale about how the princess rejects her riches and flies free from the castle.”
My story isn’t quite so glamorous.
Well, not the part worth telling.
After my parents tried marrying me off to the wealthiest investor, I ditched their sheltered nest and set off with my own agenda.
This summer is my chance to begin again.
Fulfill the dreams that were previously ignored.
The adventure starts at a secluded cabin in the middle of nowhere.
That’s where I find him avoiding civilization.
Nash Hudson is a broody recluse holding a major grudge.
With stormy eyes and a perpetual scowl to match, his dark mood tries to steal my sunshine.
I take his hostility personally, only to discover he doesn’t like anyone.
Little does he realize that my stubborn streak rivals his.
As it turns out, Nash is the tortured hero my love story is missing.
Too bad he’s very reluctant to fill that role.
Thanks to a little luck—or a strike of lightning—he’s forced to face me.
I’ll break down his walls as if this soul searching depends on it.
Or maybe I’ll end up getting lost in him instead.
“What appears to be broken might’ve stumbled on purpose.”—Nash Hudson
“It wasn’t my intention to get lost, but that’s where I found myself.”—Penny Blaire
The pressure crushing my chest threatens to level me, but that doesn’t stop the announcement from breaking free. “I’m leaving on Monday.”
My father—the mighty Alastair Theodore Winchester—places his cutlery down with methodical grace. The deceptively calm motion has my posture immediately going ramrod straight on reflex. There’s not a speck of food on his face, yet he takes an extended minute to wipe his mouth with a pristine cloth napkin. This move further instills his deliberate and calculating control over the room. My knees quake under the table while discomfort pinches at me.
Finally, after what feels like an hour, my father lifts his steely gaze to mine. “Pardon?”
Interrupting our meal with idle chatter is forbidden. Too bad for Daddy Dearest, I quit following his rigid rules months ago. That doesn’t shrink the lump in my throat, though. “I’m moving out. Permanently.”
His stony expression doesn’t so much as flicker. “That’s almost amusing.”
“I’m serious.” It’s a feat to squash the petulant whine that demands escape.
My father stares at me as if I’m a mere blip on his radar. “We’ve already discussed this, Penelope. You’re scheduled to study abroad this summer.”
I blink with concrete coating my lashes. What he thinks I’ll be studying while stranded overseas is an unknown I don’t care to venture into. Besides, I just graduated with a joint degree in communications and marketing. It’s a small miracle that my overbearing parents allowed me to attend college, not to mention actually finish.
With more courage than I’ve ever managed to scrounge up, I return his unwavering focus with a determined glare. “I’m taking a trip, yes. But somewhere I chose on my own.”
At this point, my mother offers a low tsk. The fact she willingly cracked her dutiful silence screams volumes. “Listen to your father, Penelope. Venice is gorgeous this time of year, and you’ve never been. You’ll be happy to get away for a few months.”
“Yes, I certainly will.” I’m nodding too fast and jerk the robotic motion to a sudden halt. “That’s what I’m telling you. My flight takes off early Monday morning. I’ll be gone until mid-August.”
She sniffs and reaches for her wine glass. “I’m afraid to ask where you’re planning to go.”
“Then don’t bother,” I snip.
“Penelope.” Reprimand is thick in my father’s tone.
Fire singes my cheeks at the scold fit for a rotten toddler. “I found a cabin to rent. It’s secluded and safe and small. Just right for me.”
My mother waits, her lips pinching tighter with each passing second. “Must I drag each detail from you?”
The urge to roll my eyes twitches my left lid. “Must you know my whereabouts at all times?”
A resounding smack against the polished wood table makes me jolt upright. When my gaze swings to the man responsible, I find him seething. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble by disrupting o
ur dinner? You forget your place, daughter.”
The reminder is wholly unnecessary since his demeaning beliefs are permanently etched on my skull. I’ll never be an equal in this archaic environment. That’s just one more reason why I’m leaving. My older brothers didn’t suffer this unrelenting hold from our father. They were allowed to do whatever their reckless spirits desired.
Me? I’ve been trapped since conception. I’m little more than a bargaining chip, with no wiggle room to speak of. It’s no wonder I’m chomping at the bit to shed this sheltered existence. I’m nearly twenty-two, but have less control than most toddlers. That’s about to change in three short days. They no longer have the power to control me.
“Let’s pretend I didn’t mention anything. The food is getting cold.” Not that it matters. The meager portion on my plate will remain untouched.
My mother makes another disapproving noise in the back of her throat. “So you can disappear into the night without a trace again? I think not.”
“Whose fault was that?” Just swerving close to that memory makes my skin crawl. It’s been months, yet the betrayal feels like a fresh wound leaving me raw. I was expected to accept my fate with a grateful smile.
“We’ve already taken the blame for that… oversight.” The last word seems torn from my father’s steel trap. It still pains him to admit defeat.
I don’t hesitate to exploit that sore spot for my advantage. “Which is why you shouldn’t have an issue letting me go.”
Early signs of forfeit flicker in his stone mask. Just that slight pinch between his brows is enough to tell that I’m making an impact. “Are you sure that’s wise in your current condition, Penelope?”
“And what condition might that be, Father?” Flinty ire sparks off my squared posture.
“Don’t be coy. It’s unbecoming.”
A smile that most likely displays the very tactic he’s accusing me of using curls my lips. I’m more than cued in that he’s referring to my two stints in the emergency room about six months ago. First, I crashed the Aston Martin I’d been given for my birthday, and not long after that, I ingested a sizable handful of peanuts. While my allergy to them isn’t deadly, the reaction was bad enough to land me back in the hospital.
If it wasn’t an accident in both cases, that blame would also rest heavily on his shoulders. I can’t be too upset over the fact I was admitted, albeit very temporarily.
Bayside Regional is where I met Dr. Larsen Belle and found my backbone. It’s also where I received her expert advice to choose my own path. The chains my parents shackled to me were solid, but I know that I possess the strength to break free. No one has the power to trap me in a situation other than me. If I didn’t make the choice to leave, that was my own damn fault. She gave me the courage to take a stand against their reign.
Not that my newfound resilience was instantaneous. I had faltered and floundered while initially wading into these uncharted depths. Before my botched engagement party, I’d been a dutiful sheep confined in the pen of my father’s making. I didn’t believe I could escape my gilded cage. Turns out I was wrong. The night I skipped town felt like the first moment I could actually breathe freely.
All it took was my disappearing act—and my so-called fiancé getting arrested for embezzlement—for my parents to call off the arrangement. I almost snort at the reminder, disturbing as it might be. That sorry excuse for a man never laid a finger on me, but he certainly would have, given the opportunity. I’m thankful the truth of his crimes came to light before he could lay a twisted claim to me.
I fork a limp lettuce leaf with zero intention of eating. My stomach is a churning jumble. “You still treat me like a fragile artifact best left behind a thick wall of glass.”
With that recited line from my therapist, the great Alastair Theodore Winchester cracks. His expression turns thunderous, a brewing storm darkening his already foreboding features. “There’s good reason for that.”
My eyes narrow on their own. “Not anymore.”
Meaty fingers curl into a fist on the table. It probably needles him beyond agony to surrender his prized pawn. Not that he hadn’t planned to do just that all along if the deal hadn’t flopped.
“You’re my responsibility, daughter. That won’t change.”
“But I’m an adult, and fully capable of caring for myself.”
Vibrant brownish-green eyes the same shade as mine appraise me with a disproving glint. “That has yet to be seen.”
Heat stings my cheeks with that proverbial slap. “Only because you won’t give me the opportunity.”
“That’s a faulty perception. You have all there is to want at your disposal, Penelope.”
“What I want can’t be bought.”
“Typical nonsense,” he spits. “As if I don’t provide your every indulgence. Get your priorities straight.”
“They are.”
“I disagree.”
A rather unladylike snort spews from me. “That’s what’s typical.”
There’s a protruding vein in my father’s forehead that begins to throb. “I will not be disrespected, especially when you’ve already caused a fine disruption with this drivel.”
As if I could ever cause him a deplorable offense that won’t roll right off his ego. The very thought is laughable. “You told me I could do as I please after the Nathaniel Hollingsworth fiasco.”
A quiet squeak reveals the methodical pause he takes while tracing the rim of his scotch glass. “And what do you call these last six months?”
The urge to wither under his judgment shudders through me. He’s referring to the so-called free rein I’ve been granted since the news of my intended’s crimes was splashed across the media. Nathaniel was the lucky suitor my parents plucked from the shallow selection pool. His connections and assets would further stretch my father’s already monopolizing reach. Or so it appeared on the surface. Turns out, that sleaze was a con artist. I would’ve been his next payday. Imagine the scandal.
The thought alone smacked some much-needed sense into my parents. For a brief period, I even believed they would let me live free. My optimistic attitude even led me to brag about their drastic change. What a fool I was.
Their restrictive grip fell slack, but I didn’t take advantage. The possibilities were endless and overwhelming—and more than I could manage. My college courses were online, but I used the rigorous demands as an excuse to stay put. That error in judgment has cost me dearly.
The relief my parents expressed once I returned home was short-lived. It only took a week for old habits to resurface and familiar patterns to take hold. I quickly found myself once again stuck behind glimmering gold bars in the gilded cage. That’s precisely where I’m perched at this very moment.
I’m not convinced they would’ve let me fly the coop anyway. Not then. The shift in our dynamic was too fresh and uncertain. But now? I’m ready to test the limits.
“Well?” My father’s impatient prompt is paired with an arrogant lift of his brow.
Those shackled musings go slack when I jolt to attention. “You only gave me enough wiggle room to pacify me. I accepted those scraps like a toddler with her first taste of sugar. The reality is far less tasty. A sorry excuse for the guilt you supposedly felt.”
His complexion has taken on a ruddy hue. “Are you trying to tell me how I feel?”
Snarky confidence might be pulsing through my veins, but that doesn’t mean I’m stepping in a careless trap. “We’re getting nowhere with this.”
“As I mentioned when you carelessly ruined our meal to begin with.”
I lower my gaze to conceal an exaggerated eye roll. Formalities are expected and guarded, which makes my impulsive reveal that much worse. What a tragedy it would be for this lavish farce to appear flawed.
Dinner at the Winchester household is an upscale affair regardless of the guest list. This table is too large for three, more suitable for two dozen feasting on overpriced cuisine. The display is comical, ostent
atious, and proves just how far removed we are from each other. In this setting, we’re mere strangers forced to stomach this uncomfortable burden.
After a solidifying breath, I lift my chin to restore the stand-off. “I just wanted to give you fair warning that I’m leaving.”
“The answer is no.” His stern expression prepares to reprimand me without another utterance.
“I wasn’t asking for permission.”
A muscle leaps in his cheek, most likely attempting to avoid the upcoming collision. “Do I have no say over my only daughter’s future?”
“Your opinion has already been noted on several occasions.”
“And yet you insist on defying me.”
“This isn’t your choice.”
Alastair must recognize the absolution in my terse retort. There’s no swaying me, not with my heels digging in deeper with each passing beat. “We can discuss this further tomorrow.”
Heat stings my eyes at yet another dismissal. “I need to discover myself, Father. That isn’t much to ask after the trauma I withstood.”
“Trauma,” he complains with a scoff. “Don’t be dramatic. That situation has been properly dealt with. There should be no lingering effects. If there are, we can schedule an emergency session with Doctor Jenkins.”
I’m fuming inside, the sizzle crackling in my veins. This is his reaction whenever I expose a slice of emotion that wavers beyond the plastic veneer he expects. If only we could all be detached robots like him. “I’m not being anything other than realistic, Father. You need to let me leave, like you promised.”
“Quit with the theatrics. It doesn’t bode well for your case.” But his features soften into a semblance of negotiation. “Where is this cabin located, Penelope?”
“In Minnesota.” The northern state beckons to me with its ten thousand lakes and countless shoreside rentals. It’s the rustic retreat my heart longs for, and about as far removed from the tropical heat of Bayside as I can imagine. It will be a much-needed change of scenery.
“Must you go so far?” My mother manages to wrinkle her nose through the layers of Botox. She complains about the distance, yet they planned to send me across the Atlantic.