Page 86 of The Unwanted Wife

"So, you had no idea you were going to meet me that day?"

"I did. I had been determined to keep my distance from you, but when I saw you face-to-face, I knew I couldn’t let you go… Not without finding a way to help you."

"And now?" She searches my features. "Do you feel the same way?"

"I’ll never feel differently about you." Not even when you come to hate me for what I did and decide to leave.

The car pulls up in front of the 7A Club.

I release her hand, get out of the car, then walk around to open the door for her. I help her out, then kiss her forehead. "I love you. Don’t ever forget that."

"Anyone know why the old man asked us to meet here?" Knox drawls from his position by the window. Of course he’d be by the window. My half-brother isn’t the kind to want to be anywhere near the rest of his family if he can possibly keep away. He’s positioned himself so his features are in shadow while the evening sunlight slants in and over his body. Those scars of his are probably enough to give him a complex. Probably enough to make him want to hide his face from strangers. Even the people at the office don’t look directly at him when they speak to him. Except for the Davenports, who, to give them credit, never let on that they notice his disfigurement.

"Has he ever asked to meet us at the club instead of his home?" Ryot stands by the other window in the room. These Davenports, always on alert, always making sure they have their exits mapped. And I’m one of them now. Only in name. To ensure I bring them down and take revenge for how they abandoned my mother. Only, I didn’t count on meeting a woman who’d deflect me from my focus.

Meeting Starling, marrying her, thinking of a future with her; it’s changed me. The need for revenge is not as strong or as important as it once was. I haven’t forgiven Arthur for turning his back on my mother… But my future lies with Starling. My wife. And for the first time, the fact that the Davenport fortune could benefit her is making me reconsider my purpose.

Tyler, Connor and Brody stand in another corner. The three of them seem to have a bond which Knox and Ryot don’t share. For that matter, Knox and Ryot don’t seem like they have a bond with each other, either. Loners that they are, Ryot being the most unsocial of them.

The one thing they do share is their mistrust of me—the usurper, the one who came in from the outside to take over the role as CEO. Not that Arthur has confirmed my position yet. I should be getting impatient, but for the fact I’ve been too focused on my wife. On enjoying her cunt, her lips, the touch of her fingers on my skin, the feel of her fluttering round my cock as I come inside her. Without a condom. Jesus, what was I thinking? Or not thinking, as the case may be. Since seeing her at the bakery and realizing I could help her, I’ve lost sight of the goal that has driven me this far.

I take a step away from the settee, where she’s seated with Mira, Edward’s wife. They returned from their honeymoon yesterday, and as I watch, Ed reaches down to touch her shoulder, as if reassuring himself that she’s real. Mira looks up and beams at him. Ed lowers his head and kisses her. A kiss which seems to go on and on, until Connor clears his throat.

“Maybe you two came back from your honeymoon too soon? Weren’t you supposed to be gone a few more days?” he quips.

“Damn right, but Arthur called. And while I did, at first, tell him to fuck off?—"

Connor coughs. "You told him to fuck off?"

"Or words to that extent, but he insisted we return."

"Hmm." Knox rubs his chin. "Anyone else get the feeling we’re being set up for a big reveal?"

Tyler grunts in assent.

Brody nods.

Ryot’s glower deepens.

Connor looks between us. "Let’s cut the old man a break, shall we?"

I snort. "He’s far from a helpless old man."

"Granted. Arthur’s the most Machiavellian person I’ve ever met. But his intentions are good."

I exchange glances with Edward.

"If it weren’t for Arthur, I’d never have met my wife, so I can’t completely disagree with that statement. But I’m not sure his manipulating our lives is something I condone, either." Edward sits down on the edge of the settee and wraps his arm about Mira’s shoulder.

"No fucking way is he arranging my marriage," Brody growls.

Ryot raises his middle finger, making his opinion of the topic at hand clear.

Connor holds up a hand. "All I’m saying is?—"

He breaks off as a man walks into the room. A stranger, who’s tall and broad enough to indicate that he either works out a lot or has the kind of job that involves being on the move and carrying out a certain level of physical activity daily. The jeans he wears are worn at the knees, and the sleeves of his beaten leather jacket stretch across his biceps. His scuffed military-issue boots give away his profession, as does his erect bearing. There are hints of grey at his temples, and while his hair is still short, it’s not shorn as close to the scalp as it would be if he’d come off active duty. The shadows in his eyes hint at the action he must have seen, while the lines on his face indicate he’s older than the rest of us in this room.

He pauses at the edge of the informal circle we’re scattered around in. There’s no hesitation, as much as wariness in his stance as he surveys the group. Silence descends, but from the ripple of awareness that runs through the room, I realize the others know who he is.

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