Page 12 of One Night in My Rival's Bed

‘I guess we’d better go in and get this over with,’ he said, blowing out a breath of resignation.

‘I can’t say I’m looking forward to bursting their bubble.’

‘But it has to be done. Ethan can’t get married to a woman he has only known six weeks. I won’t allow it.’ The gritty determination was back in his tone, reminding me he was not going to change his mind in a hurry.

‘Does he need your permission to marry? I mean, I know you’re his custodian but he’s an adult.’

‘No, but I control the bulk of his trust fund.’

‘Will you?’ I asked, with a querying arch of my eyebrows.

‘Will I what?’

‘Make things difficult financially?’

A pleated frown pulled at his forehead. ‘Not unless I have to.’

‘So I guess Shakespeare was right inAMidsummer Night’s Dream,’ I said. ‘“The course of true love never did run smooth.”You do realise by discouraging them it might backfire? Sometimes when we prohibit someone from doing something, the desire to do it is all the more fervent.’ I was definitely speaking from experience—recent experience. I had a fervent desire to touch Grayson Barlowe and I didn’t know how to quell it.

His eyes flicked to my mouth and back to my gaze, but his expression was mask-like. ‘That’s a risk I’m prepared to take.’

I followed him into the hotel a short time later, wondering if I was prepared to risk spending time with him in the quest to put the brakes on my sister’s relationship with his brother. It was dangerous being around Grayson Barlowe. Dangerous and exciting and thrilling. I rubbed my left hand over my right where the skin was still tingling from his touch. He had set the boundaries down but I wondered if that was for his benefit rather than mine. Or was I being a fanciful fool for thinking he might be remotely interested in someone like me?

CHAPTER FOUR

GRAYSONGOTAsecurity pass from reception to gain access to the lift that went to the floor where his brother and my sister were staying. His expression was grim as he came back to me with the security pass. ‘They’re in the honeymoon suite.’

The honeymoon suite? I chewed at my lower lip, wondering if Niamh and Ethan had consummated their relationship. Niamh knew the mechanics of sex because I had talked to her about consent and bodily autonomy even before she hit puberty. But she had never had a boyfriend before Ethan. I wondered if she was adequately prepared to deal with Ethan’s physical limitations. But perhaps they were waiting until they got married. After all, six weeks wasn’t a long time to wait. Maybe that’s why they had decided on a short engagement. But...the honeymoon suite?

We got in the lift and Grayson swiped the pass over the keypad and pressed the floor to the appropriate floor.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked with a deep note of concern in his voice.

I hadn’t realised I was frowning, and I tried to straighten out the creases on my forehead. Unfortunately, I could do nothing about the hot colour I could feel pooling in my cheeks. ‘My sister hasn’t had a boyfriend before, so...’

‘I’m sure Ethan would’ve been sensitive and put her needs ahead of his own.’ His tone was calmly reassuring.

I disguised a swallow, feeling a fool for being so embarrassed at discussing our siblings’ sex life with him. Seriously, I was behaving like an innocent Regency heroine instead of a twenty-first century career woman who’d once been engaged to be married. ‘That’s...erm...good to hear.’

‘Ethan is a partial paraplegic in that he can still walk a few steps.’

I wasn’t sure why he was filling me in on that detail, other than to assure me his brother was not as disabled as I had first thought.

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘He had a stroke following the accident. A brain bleed took out his right side, but he worked hard at rehab and got a bit more movement, apart from his right hand.’

We arrived on the honeymoon suite floor and the lift opened with a whooshing sound. We stepped out of the lift but by tactic agreement stood in the wide corridor while the doors closed again behind us on another whisper.

‘It must have been a harrowing time for you both, and, of course, your parents.’

A shadow passed over his features like clouds scudding across the sky. ‘We could so easily have lost him. It still gives me nightmares about how close it was.’ The gravity in his voice reminded me of my own visits to the ICU where Niamh was hooked up to a ventilator for weeks on end. The uncertainty was torture, each day unfolding with a new hurdle, a new drama to face. Then a flicker or two of hope, only to be dashed the following day.

‘I understand. I know lots of people say that, but how can they if they haven’t stood by a loved one’s bedside, wondering if they would be alive the next day?’

Grayson’s eyes held mine and I found myself unable to look away. ‘What happened to your sister?’

I let out a ragged sigh. ‘A head injury when she was seven. She fell off a swing and fractured her skull. She was in a coma for a month. When she finally woke up, she had no memory of the accident. No idea of how close we were to losing her.’ I swallowed tightly and added, ‘It was my fault.’

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