Page 33 of Broken Mercy
“It’s still on my boobs.”
He looks down and seems thoughtful. “Yes, it is.”
“You can let go now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
He releases me with a visible effort and steps back, still looking at my body. I quickly get myself covered and decent again, adjusting my dress with a shiver of suppressed desire.
“If anyone asks, this was your idea.”
“What the hell?” I stab a hand in the general direction of my wedding. “They’re going to think I’m a sex starved lunatic!”
“Good, that’s what we want. Better they gossip about your libido than wonder why we were in this room instead of any other.”
“Why can’t we make some shit up about you instead? Tell them you can’t get your dick hard without playing Mary Had a Little Lamb first?”
He pats my ass before walking back toward the door. “Because we need this to be believable, my lovely wife. Now, are you coming? I mean, are you following? We’ll do that other thing later tonight.”
His exaggerated wink makes me want to puke.
CHAPTER 10
TALIN
“Did we really have to be involved in all this?” Sam lugs a box from the trunk of my new Bronco. “Didn’t you hire people?”
“Yes, but this is the stuff I only trust to the important people in my life.” I give my brother a winning smile.
“So what the hell am I doing here?” he grumbles, following me to the door as Davit and Annie grab two more boxes.
I pause for a moment and look around the neighborhood. It’s a beautiful section of the city, not at all the kind of place I pictured for Brenden. He strikes me as a cheap studio hidden in the corner of a nondescript building on a quiet, beat-up block, the sort of place meant for disappearing.
Not a multi-million dollar townhouse.
The lockbox still has the keys and the door opens without fuss. I stride inside, looking around?—
Only for it to be empty.
“It’s nice?” Davit asks, sounding earnest.
“It’s extremely nice,” Annie confirms. “Look at that molding. And the kitchen’s gorgeous!”
“It’s fucking empty.” Sam dumps his box on the floor of the entryway and peers up at the chandelier. “Though that looks like it’s worth something.”
I punch him in the arm. “Quit it. Why are you always like this?”
He rubs the spot I hit and seems sheepish. “It’s in my nature, that’s all. What did you all expect? Did you really think your thief husband would have this place fully furnished? There’s still a lockbox on the door. He clearly bought it for you. God, you’re such amateurs.” He stomps back outside to get more of my stuff.
But Sam’s right, as much as I hate to admit it. A part of me thought I was going to catch a glimpse into my husband’s mysterious psyche. A person’s home is a reflection of who they are, at least to some extent. Does he keep everything neat? Is he messy and disorganized? Food in the pantry, beer in the fridge? Go-bag by the door and guns beneath his pillow? A physical disappointment rolls through me as I tour the ground floor and find it utterly bare, not a stick of furniture, not an inch of personality.
“At least you get to make it your own, right?” Davit says hopefully. He putters around the kitchen, opening cabinets, knocking on the granite counter tops. “The place has good bones.”
“Beautiful bones,” Annie confirms. “No expense spared.” She takes my arm and steers me toward the stairs as Sam walks past with another box, grumbling to himself. “Imagine what you can do with this place.”
“I honestly didn’t know I was going to have to interior decorate.”
