I don’t bother to tell him that if I’m forced to spend a lot of time with Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, a whole different kind of shit is going to go down, and he won’t like it any more than the kind he’s talking about.
“Lucky, then.” I volunteer my youngest brother.
Priest shakes his head. “He’s got shipments coming. We’ve had some recent delivery problems, and he needs to keep a close eye on everything.”
I sigh. “Why me?”
“Because you’re my right hand. When I’m not there, you’re in charge. Because I trust you.”
A sharp prick of guilt stabs through me when he tells me he trusts me. I don’t like keeping what happened between Isla and me from him. We’ve never had secrets from each other. In this world, if you don’t have trust, you don’t have anything. I’mbreaking the code between us. But I don’t see that I have much choice. This is a complication none of us needs.
“Fine.” I blow out another breath, annoyed. “I’ll get her set up with security and have them give her a code. But if you think I’m babysitting her, you’re wrong. I’ll be too damn busy to watch over her.”
“She’s capable of taking care of herself,” Priest says.
I think about her leaving her purse behind at the reception last night. The way she took a wrong turn.
“Sure.”
“Hey, you two looked like you were getting along fine last night,” he points out.
His stare is hard. Penetrating. I know my brother well enough to understand he’s testing me, waiting for a reaction.
So I’m careful not to give him one. If he finds out I hooked up with Isla and then kept it to myself, there will be hell to pay. It’s a violation of my oath of loyalty to him, to the family. Even if I’m doing it for his own good. It won’t matter.
“She seems nice enough,” I say coolly. “For a nerdy chick.”
“Watch it,frattore mio. My wife is a nerdy chick, and for the record, I think it’s hot as fuck.”
Smart women are a turn-on for me. And Isla is definitely intelligent. She’s also like an adorable kitten in the wild, about to be eaten by an apex predator.
In this scenario, that predator is me.
I hold up my hands. “Easy. I mean no insult. She’s just not my type.”
Jesus, what a lie. Isla is more my type than any woman I’ve ever met, and that’s why I have to stay the fuck away from her. Why I need to be as cold and ruthless to her as possible. I’m not like my brother. I don’t believe in love and happily ever after and all that sentimental shit. For him, yeah. It’s great—he needed to marry Luna to unite the families and end a brutal turf war.Bonus, they’re wildly in love with each other, and they’ll have a shit-ton of the cutest kids imaginable.
For me, that kind of commitment is a hell no.
I’m married to my job.
“Damn right she’s not your type,” Priest says, a note of warning entering his voice. “She’s off-limits.”
“Noted.”
“Good.” He nods, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “So it won’t be a problem, then? You’ll handle everything and see that Isla gets safely to the penthouse. Give her the lay of the land. And if she needs anything, you’ll be her first call.”
Shoot me now.
“Let’s hope she doesn’t fucking need anything,” I grumble.
“She might. She might not. Apparently, she’s going through a rough patch, from what Luna told me. Her fiancé cheated on her, and she dumped the bastard.”
Holy shit.
This is news to me. Isla was engaged? And the piece of shit stepped out on her with someone else? He deserves a nine millie between the fucking eyeballs for doing her dirty like that.
I let out a low whistle. “She’s better off without him.”
