Page 58 of Cruel Ice

Royal coughed. “Hate to say it, but you literallydidjust remind him.”

Marley swung toward him. “You.”

“Me…what?”

“You.You stop talking about strippers and poles and focus on the fact that someone is after you and Declan! Someone wants you dead! This is not a joking matter.” Her hands rose angrily into the air before falling back to her sides. And fisting.

Royal’s gaze slowly left her and returned to Declan. “He’s the one who brought up strippers.”

How had such a sweet two-year-old turned into such a pain in the ass? “Burn the money if you want. I don’t care,” Declan retorted. “But you’re getting it. Deal with the fact.”Stop being a shit about it.

“You want me to have it because it’s blood money?” Ever so emotionless. Royal began to poke around the den as he strolled around the room. He paused to peek out the curtains and peer at the terrace. “I did some more digging on the family tree. Turns out we’re fucking diabolical. Twisted as hell. And with more than a slight murderous streak.” He let the curtains fall back into place. Royal turned toward Declan. Took a step forward.

Declan didn’t speak.

Marley did. “Declanisn’tdiabolical.” She moved in front of him, putting herself between him and Royal.

Oh, sweetheart, I am definitely diabolical.

“He’s not twisted!” she denied. “Why would you say something like that?”

If she only knew the things he wanted to do with her. Absolutely twisted. Having her in his office? Fucking her on the deskandagainst the wall? That had just been a prologue. He had so much more in store for her. If he had his way, he’d fuck her for hours. Days. Until neither of them could move.

He wanted to be so imprinted on her that she could never, ever be free of him again.

He wanted her to beg. To moan. To scream. To never be satisfied again unless he was the one driving between her legs.

Really, was that too much to ask? Declan thought not.

But…

“And he doesnothave a murderous streak!” Marley slammed her fisted hands on her hips as she faced off with Royal. “Who the hell goes around saying things like that? What is wrong with you?”

Royal looked at her. He cocked one eyebrow. “Ah, Declan. I see that you went out and found yourself someone just as protective as my Violet. The protective streak is awfully hot in a woman, isn’t it?”

“Who is Violet?’ she demanded. Then caught herself. Her shoulders stiffened. “Wait a minute. Hold up. Are you talking about Violet Murphy, the ballet dancer who was abducted in Savannah a while back?” She glanced over her shoulder at Declan, and he could see the confusion in her eyes. He could also see what appeared to be a few dots connecting in her mind. “I followed the story. The Ice Breakers were involved. I remember—dammit, of course,Royal. You were involved. You—” She swung her attention back to Royal.

“I was the man who originally pulled her out of the trunk of the car before the sadistic freak who’d taken her had the chance to hurt my Violet.” There was nothing flat or unemotional about his voice now. Rage underscored each word. “I’m not really one for heroics, so consider it a very unusual deed for me. But Violet was special. She will always be special.”

“You work with the Ice Breakers, don’t you?” Marley asked.

“I do now,” Royal conceded. “They think I bring a rather…unique…skill set to the crew. I can’t say that they are wrong.”

I should have told her about my link to the Ice Breakers before. I didn’t. What the hell is she thinking now?

“What skill set would that be?” Marley asked in an ever-so-careful voice.

Royal laughed. “Don’t think you want to know.” A careful clearing of his throat. “Don’t think I trust you enough for you to know.” A clarification. “Though a bit of digging has told me that you’re a new Ice Breaker recruit, too. How funny is that? Isn’t life a bitch?”

She drew in a shuddering breath.

“The Ice Breakers are growing by leaps and bounds,” Royal continued. “And we’re all working on different cases. Cases that others in our bloodthirsty group know nothing about.”

Another shuddering breath.

That one eyebrow quirked again. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak privately with my brother. Not that I trusthim,either. But I’d really like to get back to the little matter of someone trying to kill us both. And, fuck me, is that a Van Gogh?” His eyes had locked on the wall to the right. A framed painting waited, with a little light underneath it to show the art off to the best degree.

While Royal investigated—and got side-tracked by the painting—Marley spun to confront Declan. “You know the Ice Breakers.”

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