Page 29 of Samhain

Still, it pleased me to see family, and I liked Edward when he wasn’t being a righteous shit. I gave him a hug and a kiss on each cheek. “She sent in the artillery, huh?”

“Please.” He rolled his emerald eyes. “I was overjoyed to get away from that cesspool for a few days.” He picked at my plate of hors d’oeuvres, selecting choice bits of cheese and charcuterie to eat. Then he set his stare on me and smiled like a cat that had cornered a mouse, now deliberating the most entertaining way to torture it. “I heard a rumor about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” I took another sip of wine. “What’s that, love?”

“You’re sleeping with some American knob,” he said. “The staff talk from here to Kensington and back again.”

“It’s nothing serious,” I lied. It was everything serious. It was my last link to the greatest love of my life. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Gran thinks it is. You know how protective she is of her princess.”

“You’re here to drag me home by my slutty little pigtails, is that it?”

He barked out a laugh and straightened, snatching the glass of wine out of my hand before gulping down the last sips of it. “Eventually.” He put the chalice down and gestured to the bartender to bring me another one.

I pursed my lips and scrutinized him like a proverbial little sister. “I figured you’d be elbow-deep in blondes by now.”

“Who says I wasn’t?” He flashed that charming grin, the one that made the ladies swoon. “But a party is a party, darling.” He trailed his eyes over a cute brunette that passed and put his hands in his pockets, the hunter officially on the prowl. “And you know I live for free booze.”

I took a moment to admire his features. He’d inherited the same genes as his father and our grandfather, the same slope to his nose and the same set to his dark eyes. His elder brother, Arthur, had always looked more like their mother, something everyone in the family had seen as a blight after she’d released a tell-all documentary about our deepest, darkest secrets once the divorce had been finalized. Arthur may have looked the most like his mother, but Edward acted the most like her. He threw a big finger in the face of our traditions and dared anyone to do anything about it. I’d always admired him for that.

I caught Carter across the room, laughing as he charmed a group of strangers he’d probably just met.

“So that’s him, is it?” Edward’s gaze followed mine, and he leaned back on the bar. “Is he wearing my suit?”

“Oh, please,” I said. “That suit’s been at the beach house for so long, you forgot you owned it.”

“He sleeps in my room,” Edward teased. “He wears my clothes.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”

He shrugged. “It looks better on him, anyway.”

“He’s trying to break into the film industry. I’m helping him.” I straightened and grabbed my new glass of wine when the bartender set it down. “Roxy’s taken him on as a client.”

“Roxy’s involved?” Edward shook his ginger-colored head at the mention of our estranged cousin, a fellow black sheep. “Are you trying to see what it’ll take to make her put you on lockdown?” He meant our grandmother. “She sent me to bring you back; now I understand why.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“My little cousin moves in with some American nobody, and you’re surprised I came to sort you out? And here I thought you were the smart one.” He wrapped those giant arms around me and pulled me into a bear hug the way he used to do when we were kids, lifting me off the ground while I struggled.

“No.” I tried to squirm away. “No, no, no!” It got tighter and tighter and tighter.

“Say mercy,” he said. “Say mercy!”

“Let. Go. Of. Me!” I elbowed him in the ribs, and he dropped me.

“God love ya, little coz.” He gave me a pretend punch to the chin and winked. “Okay, now say your goodbyes to your Hollywood heartthrob. I’m going to find someone to suck my cock, yes? And then we’ll head home.”

“What? Right now?”

I couldn’t leave now. It was too soon. I hadn’t gotten my greenhouse started. I hadn’t had my fill of Carter. I hadn’t?—

“Yes, right now,” he mocked. “Gran’s got that debutante dinner thing tomorrow night. She insists you attend.”

“Ugh.” Despair coiled through me, lining my stomach with dread. “I’d rather cut off my right foot.”

“When it’s time to go, it’s time to go.” He repeated Gran’s favorite phrase before winking and disappearing into the crowd.

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