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“I will kill, Summer,” Raeg whispered against the top of her head, holding her, vowing what Falcon knew both of them felt. “Understand that, baby, believe it. If even one man dares to lay his hands on you in my sight, I will kill…”
Because she belonged to them. She was theirs, and they were far more possessive than even they’d suspected. They might share her with each other, but never, not at any time, would they’d willingly allow another to touch her. Not and keep their sanity.
Chapter
FIFTEEN
Friday came far too quickly, yet time seemed to drag in slow motion, each second filled with so much emotion, so much pain, that she didn’t know how she survived it.
The fitting for her dress was quiet, absent of the laughter and teasing she, her sister, and their friend and dressmaker, Trina had shared during the other meetings. The beautiful gown no longer filled her with excitement, or with a sense of beauty.
Steven arrived, and that afternoon she sat in the beautician’s chair, staring blankly at the mirror as the older man slowly, methodically straightened the curls and waves of her hair.
Steven was a little older than her father, she guessed, at least in his early sixties, though like her father, he carried his age very well. Easily six two, his shoulders still broad, his body toned, he was the least likely beautician in the world. Yet, he was a master. She rarely allowed anyone else to fix her hair.
“So much hair,” Steven stated, his voice a bit hesitant as he spoke. “You are the belle of whatever ball you arrive at, my dear.”
There was a curious, questioning gentleness to his voice as his hazel eyes met hers in the mirror.
Summer stared at her hair, knowing it wouldn’t be this long once Raeg and Falcon left.
“I’m thinking about cutting it,” she said hollowly. “It doesn’t seem worth the effort anymore to keep it so long.”
Steven paused, his expression reflecting his surprise.
“Why would you do such thing my dear?” he asked softly as he sectioned off another portion of her hair, combing it carefully, then laying the straight iron to it before drawing the iron slowly down the long strands.
“It would be better short,” she answered, fighting the trembling of her lips, the pain that was only building.
r /> Raeg and Falcon had barely spoken to her since the day before. And they hadn’t slept with her. They’d stayed in the guest rooms, though like her, she doubted they’d slept much.
“Shall I assume this has something to do with those two young men waiting outside?” he asked somberly. “Have they broken your heart, sweetheart?”
The gentleness in his voice was filled with fondness and years of friendship. He knew things about her that no one else was aware of, secrets he’d never revealed nor gossiped about. He was one of the nicest men she knew, and sometimes he seemed to understand so much more than his words ever said.
“I must say,” he continued when she didn’t answer him. “I’m not really surprised to see them here. I had the pleasure of shaping Alyssa’s hair just after you left. Raeg seemed rather put out when I inquired about you at the time, more so than usual. Shall I assume he and Falcon are the reason for all that pain filling your eyes? Should I take them to task for wounding your tender heart, sweetheart?”
Tears filled her eyes, because she knew he was serious. He was very protective of his clients, and he always swore she and Alyssa were his favorites.
“No,” she whispered as he continued to work on her hair. “It’s complicated.”
“Love is very simple my dear,” he disagreed. “It’s the reasons we fight it that can become complicated. Usually far more complicated than they need be if I know those two.”
There was a question in his voice. Of course he’d want to know why they found it complicated. She did as well.
Summer could only shrug. “They won’t tell me why.”
“Do you ask?” he questioned her curiously.
“Falcon would tell me if he could,” she admitted. “I think it’s complicated.” She frowned. “Maybe it’s me, Steven,” she whispered. “Maybe it’s like Caleb said about the heart he broke. Maybe they just care so much that it hurts, but they know they don’t love me the way they should and it will hurt me less if they walk away.” She stared at his reflection in the mirror, needing someone to explain this to her, needing some way to make sense of why they would walk away from her.
His brow furrowed, his hazel eyes meeting hers before he turned his gaze back to his task, perhaps considering what she’d just asked him.
“I’ve known Raeg and Falcon, albeit distantly, for many years now,” he finally answered. “You know when Raeg was about twenty, there was a young woman he was enamored of, one who preferred not to have his brother in their bed. The brothers went their separate ways for a while. The young woman was murdered in their bed while he was meeting his brother for drinks one night.”
She stared back at him in shock.
“That’s not in his CIA file,” she said, not in the least worried about revealing her status as an agent. Steven had been referred to her by Margot Hampstead, the senator’s first wife, just before her death. He was an agent himself, though he claimed to be retired.
