Page 2 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
Gena squeezed her arm. “I don’t believe it. You have a heart of gold—I imagine softer than most of ours or you wouldn’t try to hide it so much.”
That was… generous, and it also hit a nerve. The traumatic events on Scheria Island weren’t the only reasons that Achilles was avoiding her. Her face flushed at the reason why.
“Ah!” Gena pushed to her feet. “There’s Achilles! I knew he’d find us!”
Bris tried to stop herself from swinging around, but then it was too late and she found herself caught by those painfully beautiful dark eyes and trying to interpret the mood against those brooding lips, even as they melted her insides into goo.
Yes, Gena was right! Bris’s heart waswaytoo soft, and now it stretched out like hot taffy at the sight of him.
Achilles was, in a word, exotic, with his dark olive features and hair, and though she was used to seeing him strut around his brother’s yacht with his chest laid bare to the sun like a feral cat, he didn’t look out of place in a tux either. In fact, the richmaterial was like a second skin, gently gliding over the curvature of his muscular back and shoulders.
He’d abandoned his tie, which she knew must mean he couldn’t tie it, and he’d left off a few more buttons at the collar than was usual, so that she could see the strength of his powerful chest heaving with his ragged breaths.
What? Did the guy run a marathon to reach them? She wouldn’t be surprised. He was usually late to everything… in a way, it was endearing. Isn’t that what people called beige flags—neither red nor green, just… cute?
And she stuffed that sentiment all away, just as usual. She’d die before giving away her deeper feelings by sitting too straight or collapsing back in her chair or staring too long… except now she couldn’t tear her eyes away because who was that beautiful blonde next to him?
Achilles turned to the slender debutante and held out his hand. The woman clutched possessively at his fingers.
Yeah, she got it—he was taken. Always. Except he wasn’t. Achilles took none of these women seriously.
Bris shifted in her chair, resentment making her every move prickly. Achilles was always in the company of stunningly gorgeous women, but this time was different. Holding hands? She didn’t want to consider it, but what if this woman actually meant something to him? And why not? After all, today was already chaotic enough, so why not introduce yet another new change in their lives? Bris had mentally prepared for this eventuality since she was twelve and had a crush on a guy that would never see her as anything more than an annoying little sister.
Gena glanced back at Bris, her dark eyes softening with concern. “I didn’t know he was dating anyone.”
Bris shrugged. First off, why did Gena think she cared? And secondly, sheshouldn’t! Her gooey taffy heart was turning colderand more brittle as he neared with his new lady in tow. The fact that Achilles was bringing someone with him to his best friend’s wedding might actually mean something.
Despite mentally preparing for this, Bris wasn’t sure if she was ready yet… and did it matter? With difficulty, she kept herself from hiding under the table as they approached.
“Gena!” Achilles said, and then his voice turned deeper, more stilted, “Bris.”
Bris nodded nonchalantly in what she hoped was just as insulting a greeting, even while she took careful stock of the lady he’d toted along.
The blonde had strings of pearls looped around her neck, but they barely moved the woman was so stiff. In fact, her posture was so good she looked like she’d break if her shoulders relaxed. Her blue eyes were slightly dazed in a dreamy way, though they sharpened on Bris in sudden dislike and… how could this harpy possibly be Achilles’s type?
He quickly introduced them. “This is Charisse Oshear!”
Ah, yes, one of the Oshear heiresses from America. Her family made luxury water toys, like submarines and superyachts. Bris was right when she’d pegged her as a debutante. Her daddy had loads of money that he’d heaped on his two little girls, and Charisse was their baby. Looks like she had her sights set on a new daddy, the “Duke of Peleus.”
“Charmed,” Charisse said, her eyes on Gena. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Wow, Achilles—your girlfriend has a voice that belongs to a twelve-year-old!Petty? Yes. True? Also yes, but that hadn’t stopped Achilles from seeing her finer qualities.
“Happy to meet you,” Gena answered in kind, her usually friendly tone only slightly repressed. Her eyes were on her brother in reproach, likely because he hadn’t said anything about his new girlfriend before now.
Charisse’s gaze alighted on Bris, and she seemed muchlesscharmed.
Ha! What had Achilles told her about the spoiled princess? Nothing good by the way the heiress’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Princess Briseis Mnon Tyndarian, yes? I understand you all grew up together?”
More than that—they’d been inseparable.
Her eyes went to Achilles and, noticing the fleeting amusement at her discomfort before he shuttered it, she turned her dangerous smile on his girlfriend instead. “Please, call me Bris. That’s what the Duke calls me.”
Duke. Princess. All that nonsense of titles and prestige faded away into familiarity in the years of growing up together in a somewhat normal household—as normal as losing more loved ones than they could count and dealing with Bris’s absent father had been.
“That isn’t what I call you,” Achilles said flatly.
She swallowed her discomfort. He called her Prissy… because she was a prissy little brat and it rhymed with Brissy, which also wasn’t her official name.
