Page 40 of Covenant

He’s not the only one either. Harley is looking at Jules just as often. He catches the chef’s eye and winks. Jules turns away in a hurry, blushing furiously.

He doesn’t look back again. A small furrow appears between Harley’s brows.

Interesting.

I turn to Matthias, wondering if he’s noticed the obvious chemistry, but he isn’t looking at them. He’s watching me intently, those dark eyes glimmering.

I force my gaze away and look back at my plate, finishing it off with as much decorum as I can muster. I try not to scrape the plate, but I do it anyway. Then I bring my plate to the sink and begin to wash it, but Jules stops me.

“Absolutely not. We have someone for that.”

I glance at him and bite back a sigh, putting the plate in the sink. I don’t know who is going to wash these, but I don’t want to overstep.

As I move away, Matthias stops me. “Grab a scone, Wy, and then we can discuss destinations.”

“I’m full,” I say.

Matthias arches a brow, but before he can go all caveman again, Harley is there, pressing one into my hand. “You may be, but hell, this will rejuvenate you.”

I stare down at it and then close my fingers gently around it. Just like with Jules, I can’t find it in myself to be mean to Harley. He hasn’t done anything to deserve it.

Not like his brother. “All right. Thank you.”

“Come,” Matthias says softly and that word makes my skin break out in goosebumps. It’s anger, I tell myself. The numbness has receded and I can feel again. That’s all this is.

“You can fight me,” he says warningly when he steps up next to me. “But I will tie you down and make you listen if needed.”

I purse my lips, my jaw clicking as he places a hand on my lower back and leads me forward. I try and resist, my steps hesitant, my movements slow, but I end up in the library all the same. He pushes me gently toward a couch and then nearly folds me onto it. He takes a seat next to me, our knees knocking.

“Now, let’s discuss.”

“I’d rather not,” I say, taking a bite of the scone and watching crumbs scatter across my shirt.

Matthias reaches out, brushing them aside, making my heart flutter annoyingly.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I mutter, taking another bite.

“Fine. No more touching.” He huffs and then sits back, his hand retracting, lips pursed as he surveys me. “You’re far too thin.”

My eyes narrow and I feel my ego deflate a little. I know that. He doesn’t need to point it out. “Gee, thanks. Hadn’t noticed, personally.”

Matthias doesn’t bite. “You’ll fill out in a few weeks. Eat all the scone, that’ll help.”

I don’t respond, but find myself finishing it anyway. Not because of what Matthias said, but because it was too fucking good to waste.

Matthias is silent until I’m done, but the second I am, he’s setting a tablet on my lap. “Swipe right. There are at least ten destinations. You need to pick one.”

I stare down at it, the bright blues and greens waving at me through the screen. I hate that Matthias remembers this about me, that I always wanted to go somewhere tropical. I must have only mentioned it a couple of times, but fuck him for remembering.

I can’t stop my fingers from moving across the screen. I scroll, seeing a variety of destinations. Bali, Hawaii, the Maldives. But when I get to St. Barthelemy, I stop.

I remember reading about this place. The billionaire island—a place with luxurious resorts, designer shops, and amazing food.

A small chuckle to my left has me freezing.

“It’s okay to want this,” he says, and the way his words fall on me makes my jaw lock. It’s almost like a double entendre.

“I don’t want this.”

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