Someone is watching me.
I track the sensation of being watched upward. My gaze lands on the woman standing at an upstairs window. Long, wavy blonde hair frames her beautiful face. I meet her big brown eyes for two beats, then I pull my gaze from hers and get up from the table. And I walk inside, not giving her another thought.
Torin shuts the office door behind him, the last one to enter after Archer and me.
With a desk, chair, and two leather chairs facing it, there are two bookcases and not much else in the room. My dad's interior designer decorated it, like most of the house, to fit his wants and needs, so we don't use it often. This house is nothing more than a cage he uses to hold us.
The only room we took the time to decorate was our scent match’s nest. We wanted to surprise her with something special to welcome her into our lives, spending hours choosing the softest cashmere cushions and silks to make it cozy. What a waste of time.
Torin is holding a glass of whiskey. It’s eight in themorning.
I raise my eyebrow. “Really?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t. Yesterday was like a dream. Today it’s a fucking nightmare. I need a drink.”
Archer makes a sound of agreement from where he’s leaning against the wall beside the one window in the room, eyes pointed outward.
Veronica will be out there cleaning the mess I made on the grass. I regret not being there to enjoy the view. Butat least while she’s out there cleaning, she can’t be near us, eavesdropping.
“She seemed confused when I confronted her.” Torin takes a sip from his glass, makes a face, and sets it down on the desk. I don’t know how much of that he’s had, but clearly, he’s reached a point where it’s no longer helping to make a terrible morning any better.
He slumps into one of the white leather desk chairs as I ask him, “Do you want to risk Lottie’s life on the possibility that the whore my dad picked out for us is a better actress than we were expecting?”
“Are you sure she’s not an innocent caught up in this?” Archer asks quietly, pulling his gaze from the backyard to reveal a furrowed brow.
It’s no surprise he’s the one asking the question. He wants her to be like him. Just someone caught up in this mess.
“What do you think?” I ask him.
The bleakness in his gaze fades as bitterness chases away his doubt. “There are no innocent spies. If they are, they don’t stay innocent for long.”
“My dad makes sure of that,” I mutter more to myself than to him. I turn to Torin. “What did she say?”
Getting to his feet, he wanders over to the window beside Archer. I can’t blame him. All I keep doing is standing up, pacing, and sitting down again.
Nothing has gone the way it should have with our scent match. Not one thing.
After peering out of the window for a second, Torin turns to look at me. “She didn’t deny having spoken to him at the ball. And we all saw how much fun they were having in the garden.”
“Where is she now?” I ask him.
“Upstairs. I waited near the stairs to make sure she stayed up there.” Torin shakes his head, lips twisting. “If we hadn’t come down early, we would have missed it.”
“She was a virgin,” I say, voicing a thought none of us have brought up yet when we must all be thinking it. I don’t know why a part of me keeps wanting to believe this isn’t a trap we all know it is.
“It isn’t like whores don’t sell off their virginity to the highest bidder,” Torin says. “It was a trap. You know it, and I know it. The less we have her in our lives and our beds, the better.”
“Your dad wants her,” Archer says, and I wish he hadn’t.
I keep trying not to think about it, but my thoughts keep swinging that way anyway.
Torin is back to peering out of the window.
Archer stares at the floor.
I bounce my gaze between them. “Part of me thinks we should give her to him.”
But she’s ours.
