Page 161 of Morally Black Betrothal
Actually, I sounded like Brendan.
“Youbitch,” Selena spat. “You’ll take my daughter over my dead body.”
But I was done fighting as I turned back to the sink. “Considering how many times you’ve left her with me, I’m surprised you even care.”
Before she could answer, the distinct chime of the elevator echoed through the penthouse. We both froze, then rushed toward the entryway, our argument momentarily forgotten.
The doors slid open to reveal Brendan, his usually perfect appearance disheveled—tie loosened, a few strands of hair falling across his forehead, and a dark spot that looked suspiciously like blood darkening the cuff of his shirt.
But it was the small figure beside him that caused my heart to leap.
“Mommy!” Kylie cried, breaking free from Brendan’s hand and racing toward us. “Aunt Simone! I’m back!”
“Kylie! Baby!” Selena dropped to her knees and gathered her daughter into her arms, although my niece looked a little surprised by the sudden affection. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m okay,” Kylie assured her, trying and failing to push Selena away. “Brendan got me ice cream! Look!”
She held up a sticky hand that still bore traces of chocolate. At that, Selena did release her, clearly wanting to get away from the stickiness.
“Ice cream at eight a.m.?” I looked at Brendan in disbelief, but filled with gratitude. He’d done it. He’d actually gotten her back safely.
“This is for you,” he said, handing me a green pint container with Van Leeuwen printed on the side. “We got them to open early.”
“How did you—” I started to ask, but he shook his head slightly, indicating we’d talk about it later. The tightness around his eyes and corded tension around his jaw told me the story wasn’t as simple as it appeared.
“Mommy, can I watch some cartoons? The bad men wouldn’t let me watch anything but baseball.” Kylie’s lip stuck out.
“Yeah, sure.” Selena was already looking bored by the idea.
“Maybe a bath first?” I suggested. “We don’t know where she’s been.”
Granted, it looked like she’d been treated well, but still…
Selena glared. “I know that. Come on, Kylie, you’re taking a shower.”
“But, Mommy, I want a bath time.”
“Fine,” Selena snapped. “Come on. After that, you can watch TV as long as you don’t whine, all right?”
It took everything I had not to tell her not to snap at Kylie, but Brendan’s hand pulled my attention back to him.
“She’s safe,” he reminded me. “She’ll be all right.”
Suddenly, I couldn’t do anything but throw myself into Brendan’s arms. He smelled like the city—like salty dew from the harbor, concrete, and his indelible musk.
“Thank you,” I whispered against his chest. “Thank you for bringing her back.”
One hand cradled the back of my head, the other wrapped firmly around my waist. “There wasn’t an alternative.”
I leaned back to look at him, to ask him why it was so urgent, how he managed it, what he had to do, exactly, to make these people cooperate in such a short time.
But all my questions melted away as I saw the raw vulnerability in those onyx eyes.
“Simone.” That deep voice shook with need that echoed in my soul.
This time, it wasn’t just him who bent down, and I wasn’t the only one looking for a kiss. Our joint desire was thick enough to slice with a knife. There was only one thing to do.
We lunged.
