“I need to leave,” I hear her utter underneath her breath, not bothering to turn around to face me, nor giving in to the fact that she wanted to be here.
But with Bobby.
It takes everything in me not to dwell on my dick being inside her earlier and my brother’s name, a breathy moan off her lips. Where she said she loved him when I was balls deep inside her, about to lose my fucking mind.
I’m only a man with limited patience and even less tolerance for bullshit. What she sees in my brother is beyond my comprehension, but I’m a betting man who says she won’t be a fan by week’s end.
“You have questions,” I quip to her. “You wantto know why. You wish to know why I would do such a thing when you’re already engaged to my brother of all people, and what for? You think we’ve never met, but indeed, Daydream, we met. And we met first.”
Slowly, she turns around, donned in a simple pink little number that does nothing but send my imagination a hundred different ways of how I could rip that dress and have her scream thecorrectname.
But I rein it in.
I know her as her.
Meirna doesn’t know me as me.
“The Stonehaven Tree planting was where we first met,” I impart to fill in the silence and her racing mind. “You dropped a bag of red mulch. You looked at me from underneath those long eyelashes, thanked me, and I carried every single one of those bags for you that day. Eighteen. We shared a water bottle, and you coerced me to drink some because you said I was dehydrated and couldn’t afford a passed-out body. That you needed the landscaping done, not have females fawning over me. I meant to?—”
“How do I know Bobby didn’t give you this information?”
She scowls at me. Her body is heaving in uneven breaths because her adrenaline is pumping, and she’s in a room with a strange man.
A man who almost looks exactly like Bobby.
Except I have darker hair and lighter green eyes.
I’m aware she didn’t mean to call me anything but a fake, but it’s a low blow. I amnothinglike Bobby. Even though Meirna and I had short periods of time together, I’m in awe that she never put two and two together.
“I haven’t been in New York society since I was sixteen.”
“So?”
“So, I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say no one has mentioned me.”
Meirna presses her lips together, then huffs, “No. They haven’t.”
She takes a step forward, showing that she’s not scared of me.
But she’s about to be.
“I could almost blame myself for you lasting as long as you did with my brother,” I convey evenly. “You did always like me better, Daydream.”
“What does that you even mean?”
“I think that’s enough storytime for one?—”
“I want to go home.”
Knew she’d say that.
It’s a typical response when someone doesn’t want to mentally deal with something and goes on the retreat.
Too bad that’s not happening.
“I’ll give you space, Meirna,” I hedge. “But you’re not going anywhere without me. You’re my wife. I take that roleveryseriously.”
“Why?” she balks. “Because you trick women into marrying you, and this is some sick hobby?—”
