Page 37 of Unstitch

‘I dunno,’ she mutters. ‘He’s skittish, that one.’

‘Get him to the club,’ I order. ‘I’ll take it from there. If he wants to lay a finger on you, he’ll have to do it in front of me.’ I slide my hand around the back of her neck and caress the delicate skin there. ‘And if you, my beautiful little thing, want both our cocks, I’ll find a way to make it happen. I’m extremely good at ambushing people—I learnt from the best. You understand me?’

26

DEX

Ithink you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Who even says that?

Who speaks those words aloud to someone they don’t know, bestows them like a gift, then walks away?

It’s not that the sentiment, coming from the mouth of a woman, is remotely new.

But the context was new.

And the woman was new, and unexpected, and enchanting, that’s for sure. So hearing that sentiment, those words, from her mouth in particular was really quite something.

I’ve been mulling over them all night, just like I’ve been mulling over the way her scent hit me, and the playful way she grabbed my wrist, and how open she was about dancing practically naked for a living.

Unfortunately, every time I allow myself to dip my toe into that deep, warm well of pleasure, my brain reminds me that she bade me goodbye and walked straight into another man’s arms.

The man who’s had the extraordinary privilege of watching her dance naked for him.

Of sucking her neck.

Fucking her.

Max fucking Hunter, that’s who.

‘Easy there, tiger,’ my sister says, gently removing the bottle of claret from my grip with one hand and the corkscrew with which I’m stabbing it with the other. ‘What’s up with you?’

‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘Just tired.’ I look over my shoulder towards the archway that separates my parents’ kitchen from their vast open-plan living space and lower my voice. ‘And already dreading this.’

‘You and me both,’ she says. ‘But you’ve had eight years off. So suck it up.’

That makes me snort. I love it when Belle gets feisty. ‘You were Mum and Dad’s little bitch, so don’t complain to me.’

‘I was until Daddy walked in here and found Rafe pretty much exactly where you were standing, naked as the day he was born.’

‘Don’t.’ I press my lips together to stop myself from losing it, because, the genuine horror of that episode aside, it seems really fucking funny today. ‘The money I’d pay to have been a fly on the wall,’ I say, shaking my head.

‘You’re so awful. You know it was the worst moment of my life.’

‘I know, love,’ I say quietly, nudging her with my elbow. It wasn’t good. I do know that much. The day Dad came home early from a three-month-trip with Mum and discovered that his obedient, virginal daughter had hooked up with the upstairs neighbour was the cause of a huge rift between them.

But it was also the start of a new dawn for Belle, a new era where she put her own beliefs first without agonising about placating Dad and aligning with his incredibly fucked-up moral compass.

Fate forced her hand that day, but it was definitely for the best.

‘Where is he, anyway?’ I ask her, because Rafe is notably absent. ‘I thought he’d be here?’

She sighs as she systematically winds the corkscrew into the cork. ‘He decided to nip over to Windsor—there’s a racehorse he’s thinking of buying a stake in.’

‘Which is code for…’

‘He and Daddy get on best when they don’t see each other too often.’

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