Page 31 of The Wrong Brother

I pour espresso into two cups, mostly to occupy my hands. Emma keeps glancing around the room with obvious curiosity, attention lingering on details I stopped noticing years ago.

The records. The coat thrown carelessly over the chair by my desk.

She’s observing me. There it is again; that certainty that she is more than she’s showing me.

Most women notice wealth first around men like me. Emma notices humanity. The thought settles unexpectedly heavily inmy chest, and I immediately redirect it. I brought her here for one reason only, and it was not to beseen.

“Business,” I say sharply, setting her cup down in front of her.

Her eyes narrow slightly at my tone. “There’s that terrifying personality again.”

“Focus.” Am I directing that to the beautiful young woman in front of me, or myself?

Emma leans back against the couch cautiously. “Okay. Fine. What exactly is this proposition?”

I sit across from her, studying her face for one long moment. Then I decide to enjoy this.

“I want you to accompany me to Colorado.”

“What?”

“To my brother’s engagement party,” I continue calmly. “And the wedding afterward.”

The color drains from her face in real time. I almost smile.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, I am entirely serious.”

Emma actually laughs, but it sounds slightly unhinged. “Absolutely not. No, that is psychotic. And I don’t live there anymore.”

Interesting choice of words, considering the circumstances.

“You were involved with Andrei publicly before,” I point out. “You understand political events.”

“That is not the issue! And…” She makes a choked sound, a flush creeping up her neck. My eyes dip lower; I’m tempted to follow it to where it must surely color her chest, the same way the chocolate did that night I licked it off her.

She rises abruptly from the couch and starts pacing the small office, visibly horrified now. “You want me to walk into his engagement party with his older brother? Are you insane? Do you people not believe in therapy?”

I watch her calmly over the rim of my cup. God, she is beautiful when agitated. Her curls bounce with every sharp movement while outrage flushes warmth back into her cheeks.

Andrei discarded this woman.

Idiot.

My jaw tightens as I picture the blonde fiancée from television again. All polished angles and smiles. A nice enough woman, surely, but who agrees to marry my brother after only three months? Not someone looking for love.

Which makes me feel even more secure in my decision to usethisto bring Andrei down.

Meanwhile, Emma looks alive as she crosses her arms and continues pacing. Soft in the places a woman should be soft. Sharp where it matters. Intelligent eyes. Real reactions. Real fire.

Andrei truly is stupid.

She finally stops to stare at me incredulously. “Why would you even want to do this?”

Because I want to watch my brother realize exactly what he lost.

Because I want to destroy the carefully controlled image he built for himself once he ousted me from my home.