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“Have you got feelings forhim?” He jerked his head towards Brady as if he was some unimportant object.
My breath caught in my throat and my heart thudded to a stop. How could he put me on the spot like that? “I...”
“So what if she has?” Brady said.
Ben’s eyes flickered back to Brady. “You telling me you have feelings for her?”
“This isn’t a conversation for you to be involved in.”
“Where it concerns my fiancée, I think it is.”
“From what I understand, she’s no longer your fiancée. I think we all know the exact secondthatended.”
“You really think you’re something, don’t you, Cowboy? Think you’re the expert on mine and Sophie’s problems, think you can try and sweep her off her feet, steal her away from me—it won’t work. She knows where her bread is buttered.”
“From my experience, you can’t steal something that doesn’t want to be stolen. Happy people don’t stray.”
Brady’s words struck a chord with me. He was absolutely, without a doubt, right. Should I be taking some of the blame for this situation of me and Ben? If he’d been totally happy with me, with us, he wouldn’t have even looked at my sister twice.
So lost in my thoughts, I missed where their frosty exchange was going until Ben gave one final provocation.
“I bet you really want to hit me, don’t you, Cowboy? Teach me a lesson, show Sophie how macho you are by beating me to a pulp, hmmm?”
Brady smiled and took a step back. He grasped my hand, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed the back of it. “I’d love to teach you a lesson. However, not only has Sophie seen enough violence for one day, but I’d rather spend my energy on making sure she is ok rather than ruining good clothes by staining them with your blood.”
Brady’s cool, calm, collected demeanour only added to the certainty of his words. He turned to me, his comforting warmth seeping back through his eyes once more.
“Are you ok?”
“Yes,” I replied, tingles beginning to sneak through my bloodstream once more. “Are you?”
Kissing my hand once more, he nodded. “If you’re ok, then I’m ok.”
I stifled a whimper at his words. How could he create such a stir inside me? Then the realisation hit me. I was trusting another guy. A guy I barely knew. Would I ever trust Ben like this again? To comfort and protect me? Seek him out for reassurance and solidity?
Ben walked towards us, a deep scowl settled on his face. He stopped a few feet from Brady, a hint of resignation settling in his eyes.
“You used to look at me like that,” he said, looking at me.
A pang of guilt stabbed at my heart. I dropped my eye contact before catching Brady’s eyes. There was something there in those chocolate eyes of his that clicked something into place for me. This wasn’t at all anything to do with Brady—this was about me and Ben. Brady was just a captivating complication.
“Ben, this isn’t about me and Brady, this is about me and you. If I never see Brady again after leaving here, that isn’t going to change the problems between me and you, and the jumbled-up mess you’ve made me. I honestly don’t know if I can, ifwecan, ever be the same again.” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and put my big girl panties on. “But, yes. I do have feelings have for him.”
Brady squeezed my hand and turned his face away. Had I said something I shouldn’t have? Had I overstepped the mark?
Ben pursed his lips and his shoulders slumped. “Ok,” he said. “Thank you for your honesty. We obviously need a deep conversation. I’ll be back in your room when you’re ready to talk.”
He turned around and walked back inside my cabin, his whole body sagging in obvious defeat. Guilt gnawed at me. Panic began to edge its way in. Had I just officially severed the last ties?
Turning to Brady, my cheeks flushed with heat. “I—”
“It’s ok,” he said. “You didn’t think I’d let any old riff raff wear my sister’s clothes, did you?”
I giggled. “I don’t know. Could be a trick to get us English girls into bed.”
He chuckled. “I’ll let you in on a secret—I hate English girls. But you—” he moved a hand to my cheek, stroking my skin with such a gentle touch, it sent shivers running through me “—you I could make an exception for.”
“And me.”
A sugary sweet English voice cut through our moment like a hot knife through butter. I startled, glancing down the path to see a tall, slim blonde beaming at us both. Her clothes, hair, and make-up all screamed perfection whilst her attitude was one of pure confidence. She walked towards us, her high heels clicking on the concrete walkway with an important statement. Her hips swayed in her tight pencil skirt with a seductive tilt.
“Well, hello, Mr Lancaster,” she said. She stood in front of us and reached a manicured hand out to Brady’s cheek. “How is my dear husband?”
