By the end of the race, Connor had imed 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, Gwh 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 p him on the shoulders; a momentter he was hoisted up by his friends and swept off the track, wreathed in cheers andughter.


    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 somepany 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 flirtatiousughs and lingering touches, but nothing that crossed a line. Still, it was obvious to everyone-Mr. Kaufman was in no mood to celebrate.


    "Has anyone seen Layne? He never misses a party like this," Laird asked, ncing around the room and skipping right over Connor before turning to the others.


    From the moment Connor walked in, he''d looked like someone owed him money. Nobody could figure out who''d managed to get under his skin.


    "He''s out of town, I think. Heard he went traveling with his uncle."


    "Hawthorne? Layne told me his uncle''s getting married. The wedding''s set for the end of the year, but they''re having the ceremony at the bride''s ce during the fall festival, then hosting a big reception here in Greenvalee winter."


    The mention of Hawthorne caught everyone''s attention.


    Even Connor''s expression flickered. In Greenvale, Hawthorne was the stuff of legend. They''d all heard Layne talk about his uncle, but none of them had ever actually met the man.


    The Everhart family had reigned over Greenvale for generations. Hawthorne was the most famous of them, a true old-money heir, and even Layne''s status was sky-high just by association.


    "No kidding? I''ve heard


    stories-Hawthorne''s supposed to be cold as ice, impossible to


    approach, the ascetic type. Onc


    someone tried to set him up with a knockout model, but even drank, he just sat on the couch all night and neverid a finger on her The poor woman went home furious and sick for a week. Some people even say he''s not into women."


    Sawyer scoffed, "People love to gossip. Everyone wants to get close to the Everharts, but nobody''s actually good enough. Layne''s new girlfriend? She''s as ordinary as theye-no way the Everharts would bless that marriage."


    "That kid is obsessed," Connor drawled for the first time that night, finally sitting up a little straighter.


    "I really didn''t see Mr. Everhart as the marrying kind. I wonder what kind of woman could tie down a man like him."


    "Layne says his new aunt is


    something else. Mr. Everhart dotes


    on her. They''d only known each other for a couple of weeks and he''d already sent over an engagement gift so over the top, they needed a private jet and a convoy of cars to deliver it."


    Connor listened to the gossip, but in his mind, all he could see was Gwh''s face.


    If he could marry her, he''d do the same and more. Just then, the door opened and


    one of the women they all hung out with strolled in, drawing everyone''s gaze. She crossed the room and ced Connor''s racing helmet on the coffee table.


    "Mr. Kaufman, isn''t this your "


    She broke off mid-sentence, her voice suddenly fading.