All at once Thorne, Briony, and Angela shake their heads or roll their eyes, fully unsurprised by Daphne’s words.
I, however, am very surprised. Daphne can’t lie?—
Well, I suppose Ihavetouched her butt, when I woke up with her in my arms at her apartment. It may not have been just now, but it’s technically true.
Yet that means Daphne was aware of it.
My pulse rackets.
“Really, Monty?” Briony says. “Can you not be lecherous for one weekend?”
Daphne puts her hands on her hips, nodding along with Briony’s words, a note of taunting in her eyes. She’s clearly enjoying this.
Thorne claps me on the shoulder. “I suppose this is a good time to take Monty away and allow you ladies some peace. He is my best man, after all, and I have a stag party for him to organize. It’s tonight, so you have…six hours.”
“Six hours?”
“If you wanted more time, then maybe you should have arrived earlier. Or, I don’t know…replied to my fucking—pardon.” He winces, giving an apologetic look at Tilly. “Mydarnletters.”
Good God, daddy Thorne is adorable.
“I suppose I can plan a party in six hours,” I say with a sigh. “I was once a tour manager, after all.”
“Don’t get too carried away,” Briony says. “I want him coherent tomorrow.”
“What about your hen party?” Angela asks. “Is that tonight as well?”
“It is.” Briony turns to Daphne. “You’re more than welcome to come. We’ll take a tour of the hotel, stopping for dinner, dessert, and drinks followed by?—”
“Please, no,” Daphne says in a rush, then grimaces at her own words. “I’m so sorry, that sounded rude, didn’t it? What I mean is…” She shifts from foot to foot.
“What Daffy Dear means,” I say, lifting a hand to the side of her face only to realize I haven’t a clue what the fuck I was about to do. Tuck her hair behind her ears? Touch her cheek? I correct course and give a playful tug to a lock of black hair, a gesture to which she responds by biting at my fingers. “—is that she prefers to settle in at the hotel by much quieter means tonight.”
“In that case,” Briony says, “I’ll take her to the ballroom.”
Daphne presses a hand to her chest. “I get to see the ballroom now?”
Briony gives her an indulgent grin. “Monty sent a telegram informing me of your desire to sketch it. So I arranged for you to have access anytime today, as it’s not in use.”
Excitement glitters in Daphne’s eyes, all traces of the anxiety she showed upon meeting Briony and Thorne gone. I suppose art and poking fun at me are two ways to soothe her nerves. She looks to me, either for reassurance or comfort or maybe just to share her joy.
I wink. “Have fun.”
“Lesson One,” she says with a nod, and I’m reminded that we’re supposed to use this weekend for my case study.
My stomach sinks.
“You, on the other hand, don’t have too much fun.” She pokes me in the chest with her forefinger. She does it again, grinning as if enjoying the firmness of my pectoral.
Before she can poke me a third time, I capture her finger and link it with my own. “Worried about me, Daffy Dear?”
She lifts her chin and slides her finger from mine. “More like worried you might be a bad influence on a soon-to-be married man.”
I give her a coy look. “When have I ever been a bad influence?”
Angela speaks up. “Didn’t you bring your two authors from The Heartbeats Tour to an orgy?”
“Why does everyone bring that up? I had nothing to do with the voyeurism room. I was high on the roof all night.”
