Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters #3)(10)

“Not cool,” agrees Declan, shaking his head.

She chews the inside of her lip and glances at the floor.

The hesitation is wildly uncharacteristic of her. She doesn’t stop to think before she answers. It makes me worry. The Sloane I know would’ve already slapped me across the face by now.

Figuratively speaking. With scorn.

Looking at her feet, she says softly, “I’m not leading him on. It’s just so perfect right now, the way things are between us. There’s no way it can get better than it already is. I don’t want to ruin it.”

Declan looks at her with so much need and devotion burning in his eyes, I’m embarrassed to be standing there. Then he grabs her and gives her a passionate kiss.

He pulls away and stares down into her eyes, all burning heat and hunger.

He growls, “Say yes, and I swear every day will be better than the last, you bloody stubborn woman. You have my heart. My soul. My life. I want you to have my name as well, and wear my ring, so everyone who sees you knows you belong to me. I’m so proud to be your man, I want the whole goddamn world to know you’re mine.”

Sloane and I are both stunned and breathless.

This man is just…wow.

I’ll get back to you with an impressive adjective. Right now, I’m speechless.

If she doesn’t marry him within twenty-four hours, she’s dead to me forever.

I push past them into the room, close the door behind me, lean close to it and say loudly, “Great to meet you, Declan. Call me when it’s supper time. I’m gonna take a nap on this bed that’s large enough for ten people. When I wake up, I expect to see a ring on that finger, Sloane. You idiot.”

Then I lie facedown on the bed, feeling sorry for myself that I don’t have even a quarter of my sister’s beauty or style.

I fall asleep fantasizing that I’m a beautiful queen with a harem of virile Irishmen.





When I open my eyes, the sun is setting. Sloane is lying on the floor nearby with her long legs up on an overstuffed chintz chair, toying with a strand of her hair and staring at the ceiling.

I prop myself up onto my elbows and gaze down at her. “Ugh. I hate it that you can look so good when you’re contemplative. When I have deep thoughts, I look like I need to take a dump.”

She closes her eyes and starts laughing.

“You think I’m joking, but I’m not. It’s one hundred percent legit.”

“Oh, I know,” she says, sitting up. Supple as a cat, she folds her legs underneath her and smiles at me. “I remember those faces you make. You take after Dad.”

“He is strangely expressive for a military man, isn’t he? You think they’d have militarized it out of him. All that marching and following orders and whatnot would definitely make my eyes glaze right over.”

“Declan was in the military, and he’s still very expressive.”

As soon as she says it, two faint spots of pink appear high on her cheeks.

I can tell she’s thinking of exactly how “expressive” he is.

Now I’m thinking about it, and I’m getting all flustered, too.

“Yuck. I don’t need to picture my big sister having all kinds of excessively hot sex, thank you very much. Also, oh. My. God, dude. Where did you find him, and how many brothers does he have? I want two, at least!”

“He’s amazing, isn’t he?”

She bats her lashes and sighs like a crazy person. Or at least some other person, some romantic, sweet person with idealized notions of love, not her.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, sit up, and squint at her. “You’re really in love with him, aren’t you?”

“Yes. It’s horrible. I mean, it’s wonderful, but also horrible, because…”

“You’re not in control anymore.”

She nods, cringing. “And I never had anything worth losing before. I never cared before, about anything but myself. Now, I care about everything. I’m one big, sentimental ball of caring. I cried watching the sunset the other day, for fuck’s sake!”

I try not to find her dismay so satisfying, but I do.

I’m a terrible person.

“Anyway.” She waves her hands to dispel that part of the conversation. “We need to do something about your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“It’s hideous. You look like you lost a bet.”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

“What?”

“For a minute there, I thought you’d been replaced by a body snatcher.”

Someone raps their knuckles softly on the door. At the same time, Sloane and I holler, “Come in!”

Spider sticks his head through. “Hullo. I have your luggage, lass. Is this a good time?”

Hot, hung, and polite. I swear, I’m going to find a scientist to clone him and Declan and make me the perfect male.

“C’mon in. You can drop it anywhere.”

He walks inside, carrying my bag and my future children’s chromosomes, and nods a hello to Sloane. He sets the bag on the floor next to the dresser then turns to leave.

“Wait,” says Sloane. “Where’s the rest?”

“That was the only one, madam.”

She makes a sour face. “What did I tell you about calling me that?”