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“I guess Oliver told you I’m investigating a story about children that went missing some years ago.”
My skin itches, and I’m barely able to keep from lunging at Declan.
He must sense it and releases her hand. “Oliver mentioned you when we spoke. I’m sorry our other brothers aren’t here. They’re on holiday.”
“Why didn’t the two of you go with them?” She’s using the voice she tried when she first questioned me. It must be her reporter voice, serious and stern.
“We don’t like to leave the house empty, and I had business in New Jersey.” His tone is easy and not bothered.
I’ve always admired the way Declan fits into any situation.
“What do you do, Mr. Montgomery?”
I cross my arms over my chest and grin. “Yeah, Declan, what do you do?”
She looks confused for a moment. “I never did ask you what you do, Oliver. Would you care to try some truth after the story you told me?”
“Story?” Declan asks.
“I explained my nature, but of course, Britta doesn’t believe me.” I meet her gaze. “I write software for several tech companies.”
Declan’s grin is wicked. “I’m a reaper, Miss Daniels. As such, it is my nature to ease people into the afterlife.”
She looks from my brother to me. “Is this some kind of joke or skit you guys do for reporters?”
Laughter rolls from Declan. “Generally, we keep our natures to ourselves.”
She cocks her head and twists her pursed lips. “Fine. I’ll find out the truth with or without your help.”
“I have no doubt.” Another chortle. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to unpack and get some rest. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Daniels.”
She nods. “Britta, if you please. I wonder if you would meet me for breakfast, Mr. Montgomery?”
Is she trying to drive me insane? “You want to have breakfast with him?”
She nods. “I have questions.”
Holding my tongue, it takes all my resources not to rage at the idea of her sitting down for a meal with another man.
That wicked smile of Declan’s is back. “I would be delighted to answer all your questions. Shall I meet you at Mable’s at nine?”
“Perfect.”
Declan goes up the stairs, and Britta steps outside.
I follow her into the midday sun. At the end of the walkway, she gets in her Jeep.
Leaning in the door before she can close it, I take another deep breath of her. “Don’t fall in love with my brother.” It comes out as a growl.
Her breath is fast and shallow. “I won’t.”
My body responds to her in ways I can’t deny or control, and I am always in control. My canines extend, and I run my mouth along the pulse at her throat. “Forgive me, Birgitta. You drive my monster to the brink.”
The most sensual moan hums from her. “What is it about you?” She grips my shoulder but doesn’t push me away. Her other hand slips over her breast.
“I find it very difficult to let you go, and even more difficult to keep from dragging you up the stairs to my bed.” I slide my tongue over her pulse and then nip her earlobe without breaking the skin. For that, I’ll need permission. Not even my longing will change the rules I live by.
“Did you drug me?” She runs her hand down my chest and up again.
