Page 71 of Bared

“The apeshit radical responsible for financing the Pura into existence.”

“They have always been in existence,” she chided. “But with Kavill’s influence, they had the means to finally level up. One month, they were a few groups huddling in scattered basements. The next, they had uniforms, offices, computers, and stacks of burner cell phones.” While uttering that, she inched her way back toward Brick. Along the way, she wrapped a hand around his calf like it was her life buoy in a flood. “And now they are demanding a seat on the Arcadian High Council.”

“And access to the inner palais through marriage to their princess.”

The second it spilled from him—and turned her gorgeous face into a collection of agonized lines—Brick winced too. Christ on dry toast, had a few years out on Whidbey watered down his aptitude for discretion?

His throat ached as he forced back a growl. No way. This had nothing to do with his skills and everything to do with this woman. How she made him entirely forget himself.

“Damn it,” he uttered. “I’m sorry, Pixie. Talk about dousing the moment in acid rain.”

Jayd shook her head while scooting a little closer. She dropped her hand back into her lap, as opposed to flowing farther up his leg. He should’ve been grateful. Instead, he gulped harder to suppress a string of profanity.

“I think we have enough rain around here already, yes?” she lightly jested. “And you are not exactly dropping a shocker on me, Brickham. To be honest, I was not completely stunned when Trystan barged into Evrest’s office with his sleazy demand.”

He narrowed his stare. “But the intel they dragged in with them…the truth about your true paternity…that had to be one giant dirty bomb, right?”

“No.”

Her gaze, soft and sad, was now centered on his sternum.

“No?”

His reply, terse and stunned, matched the finger he nudged beneath her chin. The woman was unashamed about returning his scrutiny. She even lifted a hand to trace gentle swirls along his knuckles.

“I have sensed, my whole life, that I was different from my brothers somehow. I mean, there are the obvious ways…”

“The very obvious.” He let his touch dip to the valley between her breasts.

Her face warmed in that irresistibly steamy way again, but she schooled herself enough to go on. “While the timing of Trystan’s news was the absolute worst, it was not an absolute blow to me.”

“And to your brothers?”

“Them neither.” Her demeanor grew even more solemn. “Regrettably, as the four of us grew into adulthood, our parents’ wandering interests became clearer to us.”

“Well, that must’ve royally sucked. Pardon the wordplay,” he finished in a mutter.

“Somewhat,” she admitted. “But only that. Ironically, my maimanne’s infidelity was a direct result of our parents’ arranged marriage—an embarrassing element of the antiquated system that the Pura are still fighting for.”

Brick grunted. “That really sucks.”

She sniffed, but the action was more dismissive than miserable. “I cannot even pretend to understand the Pura anymore. The blinders on their eyes are formed of Titanium and then welded onto their minds.”

“Well, there’s an image.”

“And I want to forget it now.”

“Me too.” But no way could they indulge his first solution for that plan, which had his dick already pitching another tent in his pants, so he pushed away and swung to his feet. The only answer to not touching her was getting the hell away from her. “I also think we’ve spent enough time looking backward for one night,” he stated, turning his sights out the rain-soaked window.

“Which means…what?” Luckily, Jayd sounded as relieved as she was curious. The woman was earning the acumen he first gave her credit for, picking up on the same conclusion he had. If they were going to have a reasonable conversation, they couldn’t do it within caressing distance of each other.

“You’ll have to help me out with that answer, Pixie.” He hitched a hip high enough against the windowsill to casually fold his hands over his crotch. “How are you envisioning the rest of this trip playing out?” He absorbed the brunt of her perplexed pout before adding, “You’ve thought that far ahead, right? Past the reunion with your father?”

Which, by this point, stood about a ten percent chance of happening—though he wasn’t about to rattle off those odds. If he was starting to fill out her personality profile right, she’d take those statistics and conclude she could bend them to her will. That might very well mean her bolting out the door before his head finished spinning.

For a long moment, it looked like she’d already jumped on that dizzying ride. She steadied herself by spreading her hold on the edge of the lounger and extending her legs out. Brick wasn’t complaining. Even encased in leggings, the woman’s legs were mesmerizing collisions of curves and grace. But he didn’t fixate on the lust. Not when her face was still plagued with such anxiety.

“Well, I was hoping to stay here for a bit,” she confessed at last. “Not here here. I mean, somewhere in Paris—at least until things blew over, one way or another, in Arcadia. I have already signed a lease on an apartment for a month, with the option of continuing longer.”