My brother nods, and it drives me insane to watch him lean against the desk, ankles crossed as if we’re shooting the breeze on a Sunday morning.
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
I suspected as much, but suspecting and knowing are two separate things. I round on Oliver. “And now you want something, is that right?”
“I want you, Novalee. Every month.”
“In your kinky room?” I invade his personal space, arching my neck to glare into his eyes, but I’m unprepared for the glint of yearning I find there. The memory of what went on behind that locked door burns between us. “Is that where you want me, Oliver?”
He quirks a knowing smile. “It’s whereyouwant to be, sweetheart.”
Fury has me by the throat. Still, the pull toward him leaks through, a traitorous need in rebellious places I can’t help but despise. His gaze drops to my mouth, and then I’m back in that hallway, replaying the way he kissed me.
Like a starved man staking his claim.
Oliver straightens to his full height, yanking my mind out of forbidden territory.
What just happened?
My gaze tears from his and finds Liam. Even though he’s staring at his shoes, I know the color of his anguish, the way it leaches the warmth from the umber of his eyes.
He’s as unable to face the truth as I am.
“Hello!” Ford’s voice cuts through the tension from the other room. “Anyone home?”
Loud footsteps follow, and then he and Vance fill the doorway. Ford takes one glance at Liam’s stiff posture, sensing the live wire about to spark, and that lazy grin slides across his face anyway. “Looks like we’re late to the party. Someone forget to send the invites?”
“Sitting room. All of you,” Liam says, slipping back into his natural role as chancellor.
He herds us out of his office. I’m the last to move, my feet heavy at the threshold as his hand presses against the small of my back, setting my teeth on edge. I keep my expression blank anyway, pouring ice over the fire raging inside me as I steel myself for battle.
The sitting room wraps us in marble and gray winter light. Arched windows face the cliffs where the sea gnaws at the rock face below. Hugo wanders to the glass and stares out at a slate sky heavy with the threat of snow.
His quiet is disquieting.
I have no clue what he’s thinking.
Did he catch on to the loaded questions tossed around back there? Questions that I’m only now realizing might pique his curiosity.
Landon pours himself a drink at the sideboard. “Anyone else want one?”
“It’s not even noon.” Ford flops onto the leather lounge and flings an arm across the back. “I mean, not an issue for me, but whatwillyour wife think, Astor?”
“Shut it, Stryker.” Landon thrusts a glass into Ford’s hand before claiming the spot next to him. There’s something obscene about watching my own brother settle in with a bourbon while he casually decides my life.
Vance takes one of the armchairs while Oliver joins Hugo at the windows.
“Maybe you should take a seat, my sweet girl.” Liam clutches the back of the remaining chair.
“I’ll stand, thank you.”
Silence descends for only a moment before Landon picks the conversation back up. “The issue is, we’re short a vote, and Oliver is the only one who can fill that gap.”
“But not without something in return.” Liam folds his arms. “Isn’t that right?”
My brother lowers his attention to his drink. “I guess it’s a good thing he wants something, then.”