Dangerous Temptation (Dark Dream Duet #1)(31)

Dutifully, I followed Tilda to the back of the store where the changing rooms were. Ezra had taken Brando to FAO Schwarz to buy some new toys so that Tilda and I could “take our time” picking out the right outfits for me. The first one she thrust at me was a floor-length gown made of shimmering oyster silk and feathers.

“When am I ever going to wear this?”

She smiled, waving a hand through the air. “Oh, this and that. You never know. Tiernan isn’t exactly Mr. Social, but you might be called to represent the family at some gathering or other. Everyone is expected at Thanksgiving, the Christmas Ball, Bryant’s birthday party, and the like too.”

“And it’s acceptable to wear feathers to some of these occasions?” I asked weakly as one of the feathers tickled my nose, making me sneeze.

Tilda laughed lightly. “Definitely. Trust me, I have an eye for these things. You’ll look like a dove in it. Innocent and beautiful.”

My reluctance evaporated in light of her comment. There was no one left to call me “dove” or “dovey,” now that Aida was gone, but the bird and its symbolism would always mean everything to me.

My father had given me the nickname when I was four. I could still remember him telling me I was his dove not because I was fragile and innocent, but because I brought him peace.

As I slipped into the changing room, Tilda continued to chatter away.

“Of course, Tiernan hates to attend any of our gatherings and you can’t really blame the man. None of his immediate family even talk to him, outside of his parents, and they’re…well, everyone knows what they’re like.”

“I don’t. What do you mean?”

It was too good an opportunity to pass up, prying sweet and pretty Tilda for more information about the guardian who seemed more like my captor at that point. I wanted answers to any of the innumerable mysteries he presented. Maybe if I understood him more, I would be less fascinated with the enigma of him.

“Well, it’s common knowledge in the family, so I don’t suppose I have to keep it secret from you now that you are family,” she mused.

“I won’t tell a soul,” I promised as I shimmied into the slithering material and felt it slide like rainwater down my curves.

I stepped out of the room to do a lame little twirl for Tilda who gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, eyes wide as she took me in.

“Exquisite,” she breathed. “How old did you say you were?”

“I didn’t. I’m seventeen.”

“Ah, you’d better be careful, Tiernan or his dad will have you married for political gain in a nanosecond looking the way you do. Especially in that dress.”

“I’m not even eighteen yet,” I repeated horrified by the idea of being married off like some fifteenth-century bride with zero autonomy.

Tilda shrugged. “The age of consent in New York State is seventeen. Besides, it’s the way of the wealthy, darling. With great money comes great manipulations. If they can use you, they will.” Her eyes narrowed, a shrewd intelligence flashing in their depths. “How did you say Tiernan discovered you?”

“I didn’t.” I took a page from Tiernan’s book and didn’t offer anything further. “You were mentioning something about why he doesn’t go to social gatherings.”

“Oh, he isn’t invited to many,” she assured me. “He’s the black sheep of the family, which is saying something. His older brothers are basically psychopaths and, in my humble opinion, Tiernan is the only one with any heart left after their father tried to beat it out of them.”

“He beat them?” I echoed, frankly shocked by the idea that anyone could hurt Tiernan.

I’d seen him fight in the ring, the powerful grace of his trained body like a weapon arching through the air. Then again, even Tiernan had been a child once just like Brando, young and tender, in need of protection.

“That’s the story,” she murmured as she handed me a blouse and skirt combination, obviously preoccupied with my wardrobe. “That scar on his face? His father gave him that.”

My fingers flew up to my cheek, tracing the path of Tiernan’s angry scar on my own flesh.

Lane Constantine hadn’t been perfect. He was a married man with a family and an entire life separated from Aida, Brando, and me, but he had only ever protected us. Only ever loved us. Even at his most terse, in the weeks leading up to his death, Dad had catered to our needs before his own. An image of him at the dinner table, his cheek pressed to my open chemistry textbook as he slept soundly, having fallen asleep after checking over my homework, flashed into my mind.

If I brought him peace, he brought me safety. I knew no one would ever hurt me or at least, never get away with it so long as my dad was alive.

It seemed Tiernan had grown up with the opposite sentiment in his home.

“A belt,” she continued as she pushed me into the changing room again. “The buckle pierced his cheek and cut it open from ear to mouth. I wasn’t there, but his sister, Sophia, told me you could see his teeth through the gap in his flesh.”

A shiver tore down my vertebrae like a sticky zipper.

“Obviously, he doesn’t see him anymore,” I surmised, needing Tilda to validate it for some unknown reason.

She stared at me for a moment, her lips pursed as if around a sour secret. “He works for him, actually.” When shock broke open my face, dropping my mouth into a wide “O,” she sighed. “When you’ve been abused all your life, it’s the only thing you know. You come to expect it, to believe that you deserve it.”