Page 30 of Cruel Dynasty

Spencer rocked into me, grunting, his own pace increasing to match his brother’s. “Now.”

I spilled over as I watched Beatrice contract and shake, my orgasm matching hers. But in the dark and secret cover of night, mine lingered, releasing wave after wave as I watched her sag against the glass, watched Holden withdraw and brush himself along her folds, watched him turn and pull up his pants. One last moan slipped from my mouth as he left her there, used and spent against the window to return to the bar.

Spencer stilled behind me, waiting a moment before he withdrew. He released my hair and a second later, I felt the lace of my underpants brush against my sore sex.

“Bit of a mess,” he said in a tone rich with amusement as he cleaned me up. He helped me to my feet, pulling up his trousers before reaching for mine, still crumpled on the ground. He shook them, then eyed them thoughtfully. “I think they’re okay, but these are soaked.”

He balled my lace knickers up and shoved them in his pocket before he helped me finish dressing. He studied me, tucking an escaped strand of hair behind my ear. Something dark glinted in his eyes, impossible to hide even in the shadows. “Perfect. So perfect.”

I ran my eyes along him, a strange but familiar sensation taking hold. Before he could see it on my face, I bent and brushed the knees of his trousers. I didn’t know what to make of it. It was like deja vu. For a moment, I’d looked into the face of a stranger. When I straightened, I found Spencer waiting for me.

“Shall we?” he asked, crooking his arm.

I took it, slipping back to my place at his side. As we walked toward the conservatory, I saw that Beatrice had gotten dressed. Holden stood near the bar with a drink in his hand, his back turned away from her—from us. He didn’t turn around when we entered. Beatrice glanced up, not a hair out of a place.

“I thought you two had gotten lost,” she said with a knowing smile.

“We stopped to talk,” Spencer said smoothly. “Drink?”

I nodded, not caring what he brought me as long as it was strong. He moved to join his brother at the bar and Beatrice patted the seat next to her.

“Join me.”

I did as she asked, arranging myself carefully and wishing I’d gotten a chance to check my appearance in the mirror.

Beatrice leaned closer, speaking in a low voice. “I’ve been dying to get a minute alone with you.”

“Me, too,” I lied. Time alone with Beatrice was the last thing on my wishlist right under dying in a fiery plane crash and getting bit by a venomous snake.

“I have to say I’m surprised,” she whispered.

I raised an eyebrow at the cryptic revelation. “About what?”

“You and Spencer.” She shrugged. “Also, I hope you don’t mind if I shag Holden.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from retorting. It was so magnanimous of her to ask after she already did that. “Why would I mind? Although, I thought you hated him.”

“Oh, I do,” she said, snorting slightly as if hatred was a silly objection instead of a hard limit. “But I guess you really are over him.”

“Over him?” I blinked. Maybe it was the endorphins still flooding me, but I couldn’t quite process what she was hinting at.

“Don’t be coy.” She giggled and batted my hand. “You two never hid it well, and remember, I caught you two kissing at Queen Charlotte’s Ball or was it at the Royal Ascot. Nevermind, it hardly matters. I’m just glad to see you chose the right brother, Kerrigan.”

She looked over her shoulder at the brothers, whose heads were bent together in quiet conversation. I couldn’t think of a thing to say. Kerrigan and...Holden? It couldn’t be true. Someone would have told me. Holden would have told me. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut any other time. But, despite all the reasons Beatrice had to be wrong, I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut that she was telling me the truth.

But I hadn’t picked. Kerrigan hadn’t picked. We’d done as we were told, or, at least, I had. As I stared at the brothers, I couldn’t help asking myself: if I was Kerrigan, which brother would be the right one?

14

“Kerrigan.” Soft fingers brushed the side of my face, and I blinked, feeling fuzzy, to discover the room was dark.

“What time is it?” I croaked. It felt as though we’d just gotten home from Beatrice’s dinner party moments ago. Sleep clung to my limbs, and I had to rub my eyes to get my brain to process the things coming out of Spencer’s mouth.

“I should be back soon.”

I sat up, realizing I missed a few important things. “What?”

“I guess you’re actually awake now,” he said dryly. Sighing, he launched into a repeat of whatever information he’d just delivered. “Grandfather took a fall. The doctors say he’ll be fine, but mother is panicking and there are matters that need to be addressed.”