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“My days of screwing around ended years ago, Ethan.”

“Pity for you. Women love a man in a uniform. Maybe I can borrow yours sometime.”

“Not going to happen.” I scoffed. The stains of war somehow incongruous for a playboy. “Why is it every time we chat, the subject of women comes up straight away?”

“They’re nice to talk about and look at and to undress. You haven’t turned, have you?”

“Nope. Hot-blooded pussy man. I’m just not chasing.”

“Since when have you chased women? They generally throw their panties at you.”

I laughed at that ridiculously exaggerated version of my former days of hooking up with whoever, wherever.

“There’s a dinner here next week. Cleo keeps asking after you. In fact, half of the chicks I run into ask about you. You’re one popular dude.”

“As are you,” I said. “Being rich helps, I guess.” Our conversation reminded me of the luxury that awaited me now that I was back to my former life. I should have been excited, but instead I felt flat. “I’m back in Bridesmere tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait to see you,” he said. Unlike some brothers, we weren’t competitive. If anything, we were close. “So much has been happening here. I might bring in the cameras. I’m thinking of signing the family up for a reality show.”

He liked to play on the fact I guarded my privacy. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

He laughed. “I knew that would rev you up.”

“How’s Dad?” I’d only just caught up on sleep, and I needed that week to acclimatise to being the billionaire son and not dealing with crazy situations involving jaded soldiers, distressed civilians, and negotiating with men who may or may not have wanted to blow me up.

“Dad’s hardly here.”

“Still?” It was no secret that my mother and father didn’t get on. There were whispers of a divorce, but with so much money at stake, they fought instead.

“You’re a decorated soldier, I believe.”

My brow contracted. “You know about that? How?”

“You were on the news. We have a hero in the family.”

My brother was one of those dry-delivery types, I couldn’t tell if he was ribbing me or patting me on the back.

“I was only doing my job.” My shoulders gripped.

“You saved a fucking school from being blown up, Dec. Come on, wear the accolade. You earned it.”

I can’t do this now.

I remained quiet.

“It’s good to know you’re back for good. I missed not having you to spar with.” He chuckled.

I released a breath, grateful for the switch in subject. Crazy family shenanigans I could do.

“How’s Savvie?”

“She’s in Paris.”

“What’s there? Apart from shopping, of course.” My twenty-seven-year-old sister was your typical rich heiress who flitted through life in designer clothes and changed boyfriends as often as her hairstyles.

“Probably a garçon,” he said. “Speaking of younger men, Will’s hanging around a lot.”

“He’s Dad’s partner. There’s nothing strange about that, is there?”

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