Page 45 of Forbidden Want

“Yeah, ‘cause that wouldn’t be weird,” he said and shrugged. “I don’t know. You know him better than I do… and have ways of persuading him.”

“Right.”

Which would cross the ethical boundary she was currently straddling, swaying this way and that. Sexual favors would make it wrong. Connel liked wrong. He’d be more inclined to agree if it was naughty.

Just as a frisson of awakening tempted her hormones, memories of the previous night cooled them fast. She didn’t want to fight and didn’t want to ask what happened. Yet she also didn’t want to fall into bed with him like he hadn’t just confused the hell out of her. They were great. Had been great. All weekend. Until he’d spun a one-eighty and taken up with other women right in front of her. Without inviting her. Not that she wanted to participate, but it was supposed to be the thought that counted, right?

“Want me to give you a ride over there?” Strat asked.

“No, I’m skipping Stag tonight.” If she didn’t have security on the street, Connel had his reasons for believing the trouble was over. “I’ll grab a cab home.”

“Why don’t you stay here?”

“Here?”

“You have faith in your boyfriend, great. I don’t. Vex’s in the hospital now—”

“He’s still in the hospital?”

“Yeah, he got into some riot with an orderly or something, tore his stitches, opened the wound… I don’t know what, but he’ll be in the next couple of days. My point was, his people aren’t cooped up in a hospital bed. If they want to strike at you for causing this feud…”

“I didn’t cause anything.”

“Your apartment is the first place they’ll look. I don’t know why you’re avoiding the boyfriend tonight, and I don’t wanna know. I also don’t want you hurt. We’ll get a movie, finish the beer, and I’ll take the couch.”

Strat’s place was safe and warm and didn’t involve traipsing across the city.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll stay.”

“Good,” he said on a nod. “Now go get more beer out the fridge ‘cause mine’s empty.”

They shared a smile. Strat cared. More than her own father. Her friend wanted her safe, happy, healthy. He’d become her rock. She couldn’t even be as honest with Lachlan as she could Strat.

She valued him, their friendship, and would have to find a way to show him her appreciation for his support. Another thing to add to the to-do list.

NINETEEN

NEXT MORNING, the bedroom light went on. “Shit, Dad, I don’t know why you—” Whose voice was that? Was it morning? Squinting into the intrusive light, she tried to get her bearings. “What the hell is this?”

Someone was standing just inside the bedroom door. Someone. Shit.

“Imogen,” she said, holding the covers to her chest as she sat up. “Uh… hi.”

“Hi?” Imogen said, propping a hand on her hip. “What the hell are you doing in my dad’s bed?”

At that, the bathroom door opened and Strat joined them. Wearing nothing but a towel.

“Shit,” she murmured.

Imogen made a sound of disgust. “Oh my God!”

“What you doing here, Immie?” Strat asked. “You okay? What happened?”

Typical that he hadn’t even given thought to what his daughter might assume about the scene.

“She’s younger than me, Dad!” Imogen said, her face scrunching in disgust. “Oh my God!”

Their visitor spun around to stalk out.

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