Page 88 of Marrying the Nanny

“Oh, did that sting?” She hooted. “You don’t see the irony in being insulted that I would accuse you of something you thought too insignificant to mention was actually happening to me? You’re lucky I believe you.” His cheek hadn’t ticked. “Because unlike you, I would tell Sheryl.” Even if it cost her ever seeing her niece and nephew again.

“You’ve really turned into a spiteful bitch, haven’t you?”

“Where you’re concerned, yes,” she agreed, startled to realize she felt no guilt or shame at the way she was speaking to him, only the relief of shedding a lifetime of shackles. “You’ll get over it. I, however, will never forgive you for being a colossal dick to me my entire life.”

“Because I’m telling you this marriage is a mistake?” If her remark penetrated, he didn’t show it.

“This marriage is already the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I haven’t even slept with Reid and he’s given me more orgasms than Kev gave me in four years. Do pass that along to relevant parties.”

She flipped him off and stormed through to the lounge and up the stairs.

*

Emma didn’t see him as she barreled to the other stairs. Her stomped footsteps echoed over his head.

Reid had tucked himself onto the top stair down to the basement, beside the main floor powder room where he could shamelessly eavesdrop without being seen.

The strange thing was, he had inwardly groaned at the sight of her brother before he’d even known who he was. The stench of arrogance off him had been eye watering.

“The fiancé,” Eddie had said with a smarmy smile of tolerance when they introduced themselves. “Em’s been through a rough time. I’m here on behalf of the family to see what’s really going on.”

Reid had given him full marks for varnishing over exactly what her “rough time” had entailed.

He’d firmly tamped down on the acid that had begun eating at his insides as he brought the man into this house and listened to him try to talk Emma into backing out of marrying him.

Was he relieved her brother hadn’t succeeded? Profoundly. He also wanted to punch the fucker in the face. Which unnerved him. At the first inkling of strong emotion, he reflexively threw down inner walls of six-inch steel, buffering himself from the flames of fury and contempt, and the acute empathy and gratitude that twisted beneath it.

He looked to the bottom of the stairs and thought about heading back to work. This was Em’s business and she had dealt with it.

His body twisted, though. His feet carried him into the kitchen where Eddie held a mug in one hand and the coffee carafe in the other. It only held hot water despite having spat and gurgled the last few minutes.

Eddie set down both as Reid entered. “You’re still here.”

“I am.” Reid reached into the fridge for a couple bottles of beer. “How’d it go with Em?”

“Let’s just say I could use one of those.”

“They’re not twist.” Reid held the two necks in his crooked fingers and scrabbled through the drawer for the opener. “My dad used to give us one sometimes, if we’d had a bad day.” He deliberately paused in opening them as he explained. “We were underage, but when you work with tourists you wind up in tight situations. People insist on bitching you out and you can’t talk back because it’s your livelihood. Word travels up and down this coast faster than the gulls so we only let off steam in the basement. If we’d had to put up with someone truly shitty, he’d say, ‘You win Prick of the Day,’ and he would give us a beer.”

Reid pried the caps off both bottles and set the caps with the opener beside the sink.

Eddie chuckled. “Sounds like my kind of guy.” He held out a hand.

“This is for your sister.” Reid tilted one, took a pull off the other. He let Eddie glimpse the murder that was burning as a cold fire inside him. After a few gulps, he hissed and said, “You should leave.”

Eddie sobered. Fast.

“Now,” Reid advised, letting the concentrated emotion rasp his voice. “Get out of my house, off this island, and leave the country. Em will let you know if she ever wants to see you again.”

*

When the door to her bedroom opened, Emma flung around, prepared to tell her brother to go to hell.

Reid entered with a couple of bottles of beer.

“I thought you left. Where’s Eddie?”

“Gone, if he has any sense of self-preservation.” He closed the door.

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