Those are his first loves. His only loves.
And like Mary Kate said, politicians are incapable of making promises they can keep.
41
Keir
I look like an ass, and not even this three-piece Gucci suit is helping.
Staring at my sallow reflection, I focus on the bags under my eyes and hope that the studio lighting and camera makeup will help me look halfway human.
I haven’t slept all week and if I have, it’s been in half hour spurts that end with me waking up, reaching across the bed for a person who isn’t there.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve driven past Rowan’s apartment in the last several days, and I’ve stopped by her usual places—the Beatrix Café, her favorite shoe boutique, the corner store she was always running into for the most random things in the middle of the night.
She’s nowhere to be found.
It’s like the city swallowed her up, stole her from me, and I’m never going to see her again.
Adjusting my tie, I glance down at the scribbled paper resting on the bathroom counter, reading my speech for the hundredth time.
Folding the paper and tucking it into my inside left pocket, I head downstairs to my waiting Cadillac. I have to be at the local affiliate news station in Baltimore within the hour for the press conference.
I’m sure the media’s going to try to make this into something it’s not, make it seem like there’s more to it than what’s really being said.
But the truth is, it’s really quite simple.
I’ve spent my whole life content to be unscrupulous and debauched. I’ve yet to donate to a single charity. I’ve hurt people—women in particular. I’ve used them. I’ve lied, cheated, and stolen. And I’ve done it all without ever thinking twice.
It was all second nature to me, as natural as breathing.
For the last thirty years, I’ve been content to be a villain, hungry for status and lusting for power.
Maybe I’m taking a torch to my future by doing this, but the way I look at it, I don’t have a future if Rowan isn’t in it.
Today, I’m ending my candidacy.
I’m giving it all up, if only to prove that she means more to me than all the power and fame and prestige in the world.
This is what happens when a villain falls in love.
42
Rowan
I haven’t been home but five minutes when Hannah starts blowing up my phone. The microwave above the stove hums, heating my Lean Cuisine spaghetti dinner, and all I want to do is fill my rumbling belly and relax for two point five seconds, but it looks like I’m going to have to put a pin on that.
Going over her messages, I click on the link she sent and take a seat at my island when I read the headline.
KEIR MONTGOMERY ENDING CANDIDACY IN MARYLAND SENATE RACE. WATCH HIS ANNOUNCEMENT HERE.
I click on the link to the video, watching as the camera pans in on an empty podium. A message scrolling across the bottom claims that the footage was recorded three hours ago. Within seconds, Keir appears in a black suit, wearing a blue and red striped tie I gifted him one lazy Tuesday night when we were wandering around the city and happened past a hole-in-the-wall tie shop.
“First, I’d like to thank you all for being here. I’d also like to thank WMAR, WKCA, and WHOI for broadcasting my announcement on such short notice.” His jaw flexes as he scans the media before him. “As you all know, last Sunday, I announced my candidacy for next year’s vacant senate seat in Maryland’s twenty-ninth district.”
He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, his eyes darker than usual, his face slightly gaunt.
“I met someone recently,” he continues. “Someone who challenged me, challenged the way I thought, the way I felt. See, before she came along, I never cared what anyone thought of me. It never mattered. It was never a concern of mine. I was arrogant and prideful and vain and selfish. But this person? They didn’t see me that way. They saw the good parts of me, the parts I never knew existed. I’m sure many of you know, it takes a special person to be able to bring out the best in the worst kind of people. And I’m here to tell you, I was one of the worst. I’ve done some things I’m not proud of. I placed myself in this race for all the wrong reasons. And I’ve realized in the past week that I don’t deserve your votes. Not yet. I need to work for them, earn them. But right now, I need to focus on this woman, this special person that means more to me than she could ever possibly imagine.”
My hand is clasped over my mouth, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath this entire time.
He’s giving it up.
He’s giving it up for me.
“And I can’t dedicate myself to both her and the campaign at the same time,” he says. “So it’s with a heavy heart that I tell you I’m ending my candidacy for the vacant senate seat in Maryland’s twenty-ninth district. Thank you for your time.”
A woman in a suit takes the spot beside him, calling on reporters and taking questions.
I end the video, my heart and soul and mind heavy.
Resting my head in my hands, I lose myself in my thoughts for a minute. It’s a grand gesture, undeniably. He’s putting his career—his dream—on hold just to prove he loves me.
“Did you watch it?” Hannah texts me.
“Yes.”
“And???” she replies instantly. “You’re going to call him, right?”
Biting my lip, I tell her I will. And then I pull up his number, my thumb hovering over his name until there’s a knock at my door.
Sliding off the bar stool, I make my way across my apartment, peering through the peephole and desperately trying to still my heart and quiet my mind and pull myself together by the time I open the door.
Pull in three deep breaths, I unfasten the lock and twist the knob.
Standing in the same three-piece suit and red and blue tie he wore in the press conference, Keir’s sapphire gaze drinks me in.
“I’m not running,” he says.
“I know.”
“I don’t deserve their votes,” he adds.
“No, you don’t.”
“I’m a despicable person, Rowan. I’ve done deplorable things. I’ve hurt people for my own benefit. I’ve lied and cheated, and I’ve done it all without an ounce of remorse. My heart is as dark as midnight and I’ve never cared what anyone thinks, if they even like me. But now? I care what you think. And I want you to like me, Rowan. I want you to love me.”
“What is this? Giving up your career to try and prove a point? What are you doing, Keir?” I ask.
“Trying to be the person you thought I was,” he says.
“The person you were pretending to be.”
“I’m tired of being the villain,” he says. “It’s all I’ve ever been. I don’t want to be him anymore. I want to be a man worthy of a woman like you.”
There were nights we used to lie awake in bed, our naked bodies tangled and my ear pressed against the gentle thrum of his heart as he told me about his childhood, about the absence of unconditional love and affection. It was then that I began to understand why he spent his twenties embroiled in scandals and casual liaisons.
And now it makes sense that if no one ever cared about him, he wouldn’t care about them. Self-regard was all he ever knew, and he was forced to look out for number one because no one else was. That became his way of life, his way of survival.
“So you’re just going to change, just like that?” I ask, one hand resting on my hip. “And you expect me to believe you this time?”
“What we had the last couple weeks? That was real. It was the realest fucking thing I’ve ever felt, and it was terrifying and amazing and I know if I walk out of here tonight without you, I’m never going to feel that way with anyone else as long as I live.”
“What about your career? You’re just going to give it up for me?”
“You’re my priority, Rowan. I won’t have time to focus on the campaign trail if the only thing I can thi
nk about is you,” he says, a stark contrast to the words Hunter had spoken to me just a couple of months ago. “I want you. And I’m willing to give it all away for a chance to prove to you that I’m crazy about you.”
He moves closer, and I pull his familiar scent into my lungs, drowning in the sweet nostalgia.
Keir’s hand lifts to my face, his thumb tracing my bottom lip.
“I love you, Rowan,” he says. “If I have to campaign for your love the rest of my life, I will.”
Pulling in a jagged breath, I rest my gaze in his. “I’m still angry with you.”
His lips flatten as he studies me, his expression blank as if he’s trying not to get his hopes up.
“But I still love you,” I say, rising on my toes. “So damn much.”
Keir’s mouth arches into a slow smile in the seconds before he claims my lips with a punishing kiss.
“I’ll never do anything to hurt you again,” he whispers as he kisses me. “You’ll always be my first priority, above everything else. And I’ll love you every single day for the rest of your life. I promise.”
“I took that job,” I tell him. “I’m going to be gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time.”
“Then I’ll come with you,” he says. “We’ll travel everywhere together. I don’t want be in a city where you don’t exist.”
My mouth curls at the sides in the seconds before he steals another kiss. This time it’s softer, as if he’s savoring everything about this moment.
But I don’t mind.
I am too.
Epilogue
Rowan
Five Years Later …
“Happy Birthday, dear Charlotte …” A symphony of mostly in-tune voices herald our niece’s first birthday, her mother holding back her chubby hands as she reaches for the sparkling candle in the middle of her tiny confetti cake.
In the corner, her big brother, Bennett, sulks. He’s used to soaking up the attention and now that everyone’s focused on his sister, he’s making sure everyone knows how upset he is.
Scooping him up in my arms as the birthday song ends, I tickle his chin until he smiles.
“You want some cake?” I ask.
Bennett has the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen and the softest dark hair that cascades in soft waves around his adorable little face.
“Yes,” he finally answers.
“Ice cream too?” I ask.
His eyes widen and he nods over and over, ignoring the fact that everyone’s cheering and clapping and laughing and snapping pictures of his adorable little sis covered in pink frosting, rainbow sprinkles and chunks of vanilla cake.
Charlotte seems to love the attention, lapping it up like a true Montgomery. Something tells me she’s going to be a chip off the Busy Montgomery block, but I can only hope she picks up a little bit of her mother’s charm and grace. With those kind of traits, she’ll be unstoppable someday.
I rest Bennett on my hip as I stand next to my husband, watching him from my periphery as his gaze is transfixed on little Charlotte. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking, if he’s imagining our little one there.
Keir is incredible with his niece and nephew. He’s more hands on than I ever could have anticipated, changing diapers and giving pony rides. It’s like these children have brought out a completely different side to him.
We all try not to make a big deal out of it, but when he’s not around, we all laugh about how adorable he is with them.
He’s going to be an amazing father.
But despite the fact that my husband is all smiles, there’s still a glint of something in his eyes … sadness? A missing piece? I’ve been noticing it more and more lately, trying to put my nose on it.
He abandoned his career in politics five years ago, and ever since he’s been dedicating his life to philanthropy, doing a bit of charity work in every city I’m assigned.
Still, I can’t help but think his heart truly lies in politics.
Hell, it’s in his blood.
Literally.
Next week is our third wedding anniversary, and he’s gifting me with a trip to Italy and a week in the same suite we spent our entire honeymoon holed up in.
But I’m gifting him with a couple of things as well …
First, I’m going to tell him I want him to follow his passion, his heart. If a career in politics will put that light back in his eyes, then who am I to keep him from that? I couldn’t live with myself if I kept the man I love from chasing his dream, especially when he’s done so much for me over the years.
And second, I’m going to give him the positive pregnancy test I took a few days ago.
He’s going to wrap me in his arms.
And I’m going to cry.
And we’re going to live happily ever after.
Looking back, sometimes it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around hard fate and destiny had to have been working to make this happen. Walking into the Goldsmith bar that rainy fall evening five years ago, the last thing I expected was to walk out of there with my future husband, the future father of my child.
I only wanted him for one night.
Turns out I got him for my whole life.
Now here we are.
And I wouldn’t trade this life for the world.
He has me. Forever. I’ll never leave him, no matter what.
“What are you thinking about?” Keir asks, nudging me out of my daydream.
Gazing into his cool blue eyes, I smile. “You. As always.”
He leans down, kissing my forehead. Bennett wrinkles his nose and tells us we’re gross, but we laugh it off.
“I love you,” Keir whispers. “So much.”
“I love you too. Forever and ever.”
This is what happens when a stubborn, headstrong Aldridge daughter … falls in love.
Special Thanks
Dark Promises would not have been possible if it weren’t for the help of these amazing individuals. In no particular order …
Louisa, the cover is perfection. Thank you, thank you.
Ashley, thank you for beta’ing as always. I couldn’t do this without you, and I love your brutal honesty to the moon and back.
Jacquie Czech Martin, Bridget Hobden, and Jen Champlin, thank you for the last minute beta reads! Your notes were immensely helpful!
K, C, and M—hoes for life!
Wendy, thank you for being so flexible! You’re a dream to work with.
Neda, Rachel, and Liz, thank you for ALL the behind-the-scenes stuff you do. Your service is invaluable and you are a joy to work with!
Last, but not least, thank you to all the readers and book bloggers, whether you’re a longtime loyalist or reading me for the first time. It’s because of you that I get to live my dream, and I’m forever grateful for that.
Books by Winter Renshaw
CLICK HERE FOR BOOKS BY WINTER RENSHAW
The Never Series
Never Kiss a Stranger
Never Is a Promise
Never Say Never
Bitter Rivals: a novella
The Arrogant Series
Arrogant Bastard
Arrogant Master
Arrogant Playboy
The Rixton Falls Series: Royal
Bachelor
Filthy
Priceless (an Amato Brothers crossover)
The Amato Brothers Series
Heartless
Reckless
Priceless
The Montgomery Duet: Dark Paradise
Dark Promises
Standalones
Vegas Baby
Cold Hearted
The Perfect Illusion
Country Nights
Absinthe
About the Author
Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra-portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living t
he American Dream with her husband, three kids, the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi, and her ankle biting pug pup.
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