At the sound of my brother’s name, Nate seems to snap back to his normal self — eyes blanking, expression shuttering until his face is an emotionless mask. In a flash, I’m out of his arms and back on my own two feet, toes sinking into the plush carpet. I don’t see him move, but when my eyes locate him again, he’s across the room once more, leaning in the archway of the kitchen, his face cast in shadow.
“No. That’s not why I came.” His tone is empty, indifferent — back to the hyper-controlled Nate I recognize. “I’m discrete — if Parker needed me to check in on you, you’d never know I was here.”
Cocky, much?
Rolling my eyes, I smooth my hands over my dress and shake the too-long bangs out of my face. I straighten to full height — which, granted, isn’t that tall — but with my hands planted on my hips and my spine stiffer than a steel rod, I feel a little more in control.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re a super badass mercenary. I get it.” My voice is ultra sarcastic. “Care to share with the class something we don’t already know?”
He bristles. It’s not so much something I see, since he’s still standing in the shadows, but something I feel — a change in the atmosphere around us, as waves of anger begin to ripple out from his spot in the archway. Something I said clearly struck a nerve. Before I can begin to guess what, he steps closer. The expression on his face makes my mouth go dry.
Holy frack.
I’ve never seen him look so intense. In fact, I’ve never seen anyone look so intense. I can almost see the electricity moving under his skin, waves of energy surging through him like a storm. There should be a 10,000-volt hazard sign engraved on his chest: DANGER! SEVERE INJURY OR DEATH WILL OCCUR!
A warning to those who might be foolish enough to take a man this lethal into their arms.
He’s a live wire on the side of the road — dark, immobile, and seemingly harmless until you step too close and sparks fly out with one fatal snap, killing you where you stand.
He’s brutal. Barbaric.
He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Chapter Three
Let’s just say, I sleep diagonally across my mattress. Every night.
Phoebe West, reflecting on her relationship status.
Nate steps toward me, his expression darkening like the thunderheads I watch roll across the ocean on summer nights from my balcony in Nantucket. When he speaks, his words are a lightning strike.
“Your date tonight.”
Flash.
“Brett Croft.”
Crack.
“You’re not seeing him again.”
Boom.
His declaration echoes for a moment in the darkness, leaving me paralyzed — as though I really have been struck by a bolt of electricity. Volts of confusion whisper through me as I search for words to counter his startling statement.
This — him being here — is about Brett?
Brett?!
As in, the snooze-worthy date I barely spoke to, tonight?
Boo barks again, angry at being ignored, and Nate and I yell at the same time.
“Quiet, Boo!”
With a resentful growl, the small dog falls grudgingly silent and settles on the couch pillows. His shiny, beady eyes never move from Nate and I’m sure, if I gave him the smallest of signals, he’d be only too happy to vault from the cushions, intent on destruction.
I don’t blame him. I myself would like to bite Nate, right now. And not in the sensual, earlobe-nibbling way I typically dream of.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my voice laced with genuine bewilderment. “Why would you give a rat’s ass about Brett Croft?”
Nate takes a step toward me, gaze locked on my face. “He’s dangerous.”
I can’t help but scoff. It’s funny — the most dangerous man I’ve ever met, warning me away from someone like Brett.
His eyes narrow. “Something funny?”
“Brett’s a bored billionaire with a gorgeous face and an ass that won’t quit.” I roll my eyes. “Delicious? Perhaps. Dangerous? Definitely not.”
“For once in your fucking life, would you just listen?” he snaps, striding closer as his hands fist at his sides. “Brett Croft is involved in some fucked up shit. So, I don’t give a damn if you think he’s delicious.” He spits out the word like it’s toxic. “Stay the hell away from him.”
“And if I don’t?”