Novels by Comfort

Vanessa stepped out of the car and looked up at the Kingsley estate with satisfaction warming her chest. She had always belonged in a house like this. Not as a guest. As its mistress.She adjusted her silk scarf and walked up the front steps. The door was slightly ajar unusual. Cassian was particular about security. She pushed it open."Cassian?"No response.She walked further in, heels clicking against marble, and stopped.Cassian was sitting on the staircase. His shirt was unbuttoned, his hair disheveled, his bare feet on the cold stone. His eyes were red-rimmed and hollow. In his hands, a crumpled sheet of paper trembled.Vanessa had never seen him like this. Not in all the years she had known him.Then her gaze dropped to the floor. Legal documents scattered across the marble like dead leaves. She picked one up.Dissolution of Marriage.The undersigned, Clara Hayes Kingsley, hereby waives all claims to marital assets...A smile flickered at the corner of her lips. She killed it a

Cassian woke to a headache banging inside his skull.He groaned and pressed his palms against his eyes. His mouth was dry. His body felt foreign. Fragments of the previous night drifted through his mind Julian's fireplace, Vanessa's laughter, the burn of whiskey but they were broken, impossible to piece together.He reached out instinctively across the sheets.Cold. Empty.He turned his head. Clara's side was undisturbed, pillow smooth, blankets tucked. He frowned. She must have gone to the kitchen. Or the garden. She liked the garden in the mornings.He pushed himself upright, and the movement sent fresh pain through his temples. He sat there waiting for the room to stop spinning, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. His shirt was unbuttoned, his trousers rumpled. He couldn't remember undressing. He couldn't remember much after leaving Julian's house.He stood up slowly, one hand pressed to his forehead, and shuffled toward the nightstand. A glass water pitcher sat there, ha

The party at Julian's house had burned down to embers.Marcus was passed out on the couch, an empty glass dangling from his fingers. Derek had disappeared into a guest room. Priya was curled in an armchair, heels kicked off. The music had faded to a low hum.Vanessa slept on the chaise lounge by the window, dark hair spilling over velvet cushions, breathing slow and even.Cassian stood. The room tilted he'd taken more shots than usual and he braced a hand against the couch.Julian appeared at his elbow. "Leaving so soon?""I have work tomorrow. I can't stay.""You could take a day off. The world won't end.""No.""Suit yourself. I'll have your driver pull up to the front."They walked to the foyer. Outside, the first hints of dawn paled the sky.Cassian paused at the door, glancing back toward the living room. "Take care of her tonight. She's in your hands.""Of course." Julian's smile didn't waver. "You know I'll take good care of her."Cassian nodded and walked out. His driver was w

The Kingsley estate was quiet when Cassian and Vanessa left for Julian's house.Clara stood in the hallway, thin and pale, the yellow-green remnants of her bruises still visible. She had been recovering for three days, speaking to no one. The household had adjusted to the new order Vanessa at the center, Clara a ghost at the edges.Cassian paused at the door. "Julian wants to see his close friends. You can see him another time."Clara said nothing.Vanessa slipped her arm through his. "We shouldn't keep Julian waiting."Cassian turned away without another word. The door closed.Julian Cross's mansion was old money and refined taste—neo-Georgian, surrounded by ancient oaks, filled with art and furniture that had been in the family for six generations.Julian himself was waiting by the fireplace, tall and lean with a slow, knowing smile. "Vanessa Hale. The city has been unbearably dull without you."She embraced him, laughing. "Still causing trouble?""Someone has to." His gaze slid to

Two days. That was all it took for Vanessa to colonize my home.She arrived with four suitcases and an air of casual ownership I had never managed in four years. The maids flocked to her. They laughed at her jokes, complimented her clothes, rushed to prepare her meals. My own requests had always been met with polite indifference.I watched from the periphery of my own life.Vanessa took her coffee in the sunroom every morning, the same sunroom where I had planned to read in peace. She replaced my peonies with white lilies because peonies were "provincial." She suggested new dinner menus, and the chef obeyed without consulting me. She played Cassian's old piano in the evenings.Cassian noticed none of it. He left early and returned late. When he was home, he deferred to her comfort. Two nights ago, he gave her my seat at the dinner table. I ate in silence at the far end.The entire household understood what Cassian refused to say aloud: Vanessa had returned, and Clara had become surplu

The airport terminal gleamed under fluorescent lights as Cassian strode through the sliding glass doors, his pulse beating faster than it had in years. He hadn't slept. He hadn't eaten. He had barely registered the drive across the city, his hands gripping the steering wheel of his black Rolls-Royce with a tension that had nothing to do with traffic.She was here.After eight years. After all the silence, the distance, the ache he had learned to bury beneath board meetings and quarterly reports. Vanessa was finally back on the same soil as him.He spotted her before she saw him.She stood near the baggage claim, a vision in cream-colored cashmere, her dark hair longer than he remembered, falling in waves past her shoulders. Sunglasses pushed up on her head. A single leather suitcase at her feet. She looked exactly the same timeless, effortless beauty.Then she turned, and their eyes met."Cassian."Her voice. God, her voice. It hit him square in the chest.She crossed the distance bet