Page 74 of Stepbrothers

Then she would resume an entirely platonic relationship with her new stepbrothers. She’d see them at family events, Christmas, maybe if one of them married, but nothing other than that.

One of them married?

That thought didn’t bear thinking about. She didn’t want Parker or Hugh to be with another woman.

Walking swiftly, she shook her head, trying to rid the image of a nameless, faceless woman staking her claim on them.

It seemed Wendy had tried with Parker. Dropping him messages, filthy no doubt. Good for him that he told her no, that he was seeing someone.

And that someone was her, Clarice.

Chapter Fifteen

Ten minutes later, the apartment block came into view. Using the key Hugh had given her, she let herself in, then waited for the elevator.

With a bit of luck, Parker would still be out playing golf and Hugh would be asleep after his nightshift.

That way she could sneak out. Oh, she was sure they’d call round later, when they realized she’d gone. But she wouldn’t let them in, wouldn’t answer the door. In fact, perhaps she should go out, snap out of this ridiculous line of thinking that there could be something real between her and her stepbrothers.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Clarice,” she muttered, stepping into the thankfully empty elevator.

She rode to the top floor, then stomped down the corridor, her footsteps echoing. Once past the large frondy plant, she stopped and let herself into the penthouse suite.

All was quiet. For a moment she stilled, took a few deep breaths, then she gingerly checked the living area. No one.

Hugh’s bedroom door was still closed.

No evidence of Parker being back from golf.

Good.

Quickly, she went into Trig’s room and threw her things into her bag. There wasn’t much. After retrieving her phone charger from the kitchen area, she had one last look at the gorgeous view, then slipped toward the front door. Her heart ached. Leaving was hard. But it was the right thing to do.

“Where are you going?”

“What?” She spun around.

Hugh stood just ten feet away. His hair awry, and dark-green pajama bottoms hung low on his lean hips.

“I…er…out.”

A frown marred his brow, and he ran his hand over his stubbled jawline. “Out where?”

She gulped then inhaled a ragged breath. She couldn’t tell him the truth. Instinct told her he’d try and stop her. “Just out. To see friends.”

“With your holdall?”

“I might get changed. Stay out.”

“The hell you will.” He took a step closer.

She resisted the urge to turn and run. “Why shouldn’t I? You don’t own me.”

“Never said we did, little girl.” His eyes turned steely. “But we care about where you are and who you’re with.” He paused. “Whether or not you’re safe.”

“I am capable of looking after myself.”

“We can debate that.” He jerked his head at the kitchen. “Over a coffee.”

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