Marry Screw Kill(4)

Slightly breathless, and guilty my orgasm took an eternity to materialize, I slip on my robe and return to my normal breakfast routine. James brings his laptop to the kitchen table and opens it to catch up on work before he leaves for the hospital.

No one would guess he’d had his head between my thighs a minute ago. Everything is back to normal as usual—James, the handsome doctor, planning his day, and me, the dutiful fiancée, tending to her man.

I pour him a cup of coffee, plate the now cold scrambled eggs I’d cooked to perfection, and place them down in front of him. Taking a quick glance at what James is working on, I see an open email on his laptop screen. I sit down at the table as he takes a bite.

“Fuck.” He drops his fork onto the plate and I raise my hand to my throat.

“What is it, James?”

“It’s Sinclair.” He pounds away on his keyboard and curses again before shutting his laptop in a huff. He looks up at me with anger in his eyes. “He’s not coming tomorrow.”

“I thought his clerkship at The Clinic started on Monday.”

“He’s coming tonight and I’m needed at the hospital until later in the evening. Dammit, you’ll have to meet him at the airport.” He pushes his plate away, stands up, and peers down at me, his jaw stretched tight.

“Sure. It’s not a problem.” I stand up next to him and rub his arm soothingly, although I don’t understand why this would upset him so much. “What do you want me to do? Just tell me.”

“I haven’t seen him in years, so I don’t want you alone with him.” His possessive side shocks me. He usually saves this display for his friends at the country club when they become too flirty with me. I’m surprised he feels this way with his own nephew. “Sinclair took a year between high school and college, a gap year. He lived up to his nickname, Sin, during that time. I don’t trust his womanizing ass for one second.”

“James, really, I’m sure it was just a phase. Look, he’s going to med school now.” He runs his fingers through his hair and gathers up his laptop. “Where should we go then?”

“God, I don’t even know.” He stuffs his laptop into his case, throws the strap over his shoulder, and pushes the chair back under the table, anger rolling off him with every movement.

He turns around toward me, his fists balled at his side. I understand him not trusting the forward, sometimes handsy men at his club, but the same reaction to his own nephew seems over the top and unwarranted.

“Don’t bring him back here for f*ck’s sake. I need to get a read on him first.”

“Okay.” I nod and wonder what will happen if he doesn’t trust Sinclair. I thought James would let Sinclair stay with us during his time here, but now I’m not so sure. There are several hotels downtown, or maybe James’ apartment, but I was excited about having a guest here with us. It gets so lonely in this ten-thousand square-foot house by myself.

James glances down at his watch and looks at me. Stress shows in his stormy blue eyes. “Hell, I’ve got to run or I’ll be late for my first rounds.”

“What about your breakfast? And Sinclair?”

“I don’t have time to eat anything else.” I blush, knowing he means our diversion on the counter. “I’ll have my assistant pick up something from the cafeteria.”

“I’m sorry.” I run my fingers under the lapel of his suit coat. The hard muscles of his chest defy his true age with their strength.

“You can be so distracting, Harlow.” He shakes his head and glides a finger across my cheek. “Pick Sinclair up at seven. He’s flying American and connecting in Chicago. Take him to that new place downtown called Rogue. It’s two minutes from the hospital. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I suppress a smile and the desire to jump in excitement like a child. I’ve been dying to go to Rogue—or any place that isn’t the stuffy country club.

James’ idea of a night out consists of dinner and drinks at the country club with his friends. I hate going there with him. The women whisper behind my back, calling me a gold digger. The men leer at my body and make sexually charged comments when James isn’t paying attention.

I end up drinking too much to drown them all out, which makes James livid. He says I seductively smile at the men when I’m tipsy. I tell him nothing could be further from the truth. I leave out that the men make me sick because I’m afraid of James’ reaction, but they do.

“One request.” His so-called requests are well-mannered demands. “Wear your red Jimmy Choo heels and the new white dress I bought you from Dior.” The smile on his face spells trouble.

“That seems a little flashy for Rogue.” James places a finger under my chin and tilts my face up. His eyes scold and unnerve me. He doesn’t like me contradicting him, but I was only sharing my thoughts. “What did I do?”

“You, my darling, didn’t do a thing. God created you as every man’s temptation. I want to see how Sinclair reacts to you. And it better be as his future aunt, no matter how close you are in age.”

“But I am not a carrot you can dangle.” He pulls me into a forceful kiss before I can protest further. The thought seems twisted and doesn’t make sense if he’s worried about me being alone with Sinclair in the first place.