Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“Are you driving Lavender’s McClaren?”
It’s not hers yet, though I find myself smiling at his incredulous tone.
“She’s not even interested in cars,” he mutters. “Never mind appreciate a machine like that.”
“Focus, Brin. Cast your mind back and tell me which one of her shithead boyfriends would be a prime candidate for frightening your sister.”
He falls quiet for a beat. “What do you mean frightened? Is she being threatened? You’ve got a security team.”
“She’s not under threat, no.” But her sense of right and wrong seems to have been tweaked. More to the point, I feel protective. Protective of the woman I forced to marry me. The woman I was wholly unprepared for. I can’t make sense of my feelings, but I do know what conversation I’ll be having with Lachlan. I’ve known all along.
Who the hell did I think I was kidding?
It hasn’t been confusion keeping me from speaking with him but disbelief. Discomfort. Denial. There’s also one more d to the list. Dunce. Because I’m a fucking idiot.
“Then I don’t get it.”
“You don’t have to get it. You just have to help me find out who he is.” So I can pull his spine out from his throat. “So old boyfriends?”
“Tod’s the only one she’s ever brought home, and I can’t see him lifting his hand to her. Not unless he wants Lavender to shove it so far up his arse he can tickle his tonsils.”
“It’s not Tod,” I agree. Tod is her safety net somehow. And a pain in my ass. But he’s no threat. “Who was she dating before?”
“She doesn’t date,” he says, unconcerned. “She never has, as far as I know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. Like I said, Tod’s the only bloke she’s introduced us to.”
Is he saying what I think he is? What kind of brother would insinuate his sister fucks around—and to her new husband?
“You might not have noticed, but Lav and I aren’t exactly bosom buddies.”
“Brin,” I growl as the shutters jerk and shudder, though eventually lift.
“I know, I know. Lavender is just such a mouthful.”
More like a handful. “It’s her fucking name. Don’t disrespect her by calling her anything else.” The McLaren roars as I pull out of the warehouse.
“I bet that thing sticks like snot to the road when it corners,” he says in answer to the sound of the accelerator.
I find myself shaking my head. At the junction, I take a left.
“And you know, it’s not my fault our parents gave us stupid names.”
“Lavender isn’t a stupid name.” It’s calming and soothing and… but maybe she was misnamed. “This is not what I wanted to speak to you about.”
“Yeah, well. I can’t help you.”
“Yes, you can. And you will, Brin. I need a name. Ask her friends, your mom. Someone.” Because Lavender isn’t as brave as she makes out. Someone has made her fearful, and I plan on returning that favor. Before this marriage is through, I need her to know she’ll never have to worry about him again.
27
LAVENDER
“You look nice,” Daisy says, looking up from her sketchbook.
“Thanks, Daiz.” I smooth the fabric over my thighs as I examine myself in the mirror. “Do you think this dress says powerful but approachable?”
Sitting up, she runs her eyes over me again. “I think it’s pretty,” she answers carefully. “And it makes you look like you have really long legs.”
“I’ll take that,” I say, leaning down to invite a high five. As well as less than luscious lips, I was also under-blessed with legs. Not that I would’ve liked another leg. Just longer ones.
My dress is a Zimmerman dupe and is a whole vibe. It’s a silk-satin wrap dress in a color that could be either silver or pale pink, depending on the light. It has an asymmetric hem and blouson sleeves cinched tight at the wrists. It shimmers as I move, as well as exposing quite a bit of leg. The neckline is low and a little temperamental, thanks to how it ties at the waist, but I love it.
“Is Uncle Raif going with you?”
“No, doll. You’ve got him all to yourself tonight.” I bend to fasten the strap of my shoe. Raif knows I have an exhibition coming up. Daisy even mentioned Tod's exhibition. It’s not my fault if he hasn’t put two and two together.
I suppose it’s worked out quite well that he’s late this evening.
Or maybe not as fingers fold around my hips.
“Guess who?” I suck in a sharp breath, his touch heating my skin like wildfire.
“Leo?”
Daisy giggles, and my husband makes a noise of contempt.
“Not funny,” he grunts as I turn to greet him.
“Daisy disagrees.” I press my hand to his cheek as he leans down to kiss me. This has become our standard greeting. I’m not sure why. Maybe because this is how married couples are supposed to act. Honestly, I’ve never had anyone pay attention to me like he does. But I can’t be sucked in, no matter how good it feels.