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The heavy candlestick thudded and bounced on the thick carpet.
My eyes shot to Ily.
She didn’t wake but she did moan in her sleep.
A moan that sent goosebumps scattering down my spine. My cock instantly swelled; my heart got a hacksaw to try to cut its way out of my chest.
Not a scared moan.
Not a homesick moan.
Fuck no…that was a wanting moan. A moan that painted image after image of just how good it would feel to slip inside her while she slept.
Pressing down on my hardening erection, I gritted my teeth.
I hated that she had this effect on me.
Cursed whatever magic she wielded.
Move, Ri.
Stop watching her like some deranged teenager.
It took all my willpower to wrench my gaze off her and pat my pocket to check Q’s cufflinks were still safely inside. Knowing Ily had touched them made my breath short. Had she damaged the GPS chip inside? Did she have any idea that our very existence hinged on these tiny stupid things?
If I managed to turn off the scrambler, then I assumed Q could find my signal from anywhere in this twisted castle but just in case the stone walls and rock battlements blocked it, I figured I’d hide them outside on Victor’s terrace. Perhaps shove them down the mouth of one of the roaring gargoyles.
Pulling my hand away from the two small bumps in my pocket, I scowled and went over my checklist.
Weapon.
You need a weapon.
I returned to the wardrobe and pulled out my own blazer I wore to the Paris nightclub. My hands shook a little as I remembered getting dressed that night. Staring at myself in the mirrored elevator as it descended from my hotel room to the lobby where Roland had been waiting for me.
I’d been twisted into knots, rehearsing lines in my head. Desperate to accomplish being best friends to a raping bastard, all because it represented an end to lonely nights and life-destroying desires.
But somehow, in a moment of fucking kismet, the moment I heard Ily’s remark about blowjobs and divorces, my allegiances had switched.
Wait, what?
I froze with my jacket dangling in my hands.
That wasn’t true.
Is it?
I’d only known the girl for a single day.
I owed her nothing.
You’ve known your brother for a single night.
Yet you’re giving him everything.
What was the difference?
Q might be blood, but Ily…what if she was something more?
