by Jane Cousins
“You know where to find me if you need any help.” Nico offered generously before departing.
“So?”
Devon looked up from her fish to see Fredrik contemplating her, likewise he was digging into his meal, a chorizo and basil frittata and ignoring his brothers.
“So?” She repeated back to him.
“Just between you and me, who is the leading bridegroom contender so far?”
Devon swallowed a small bite of fish. “You have money riding on the outcome, don’t you?”
Fredrik just smiled.
“Aren’t you all a bridegroom contender?” She’d been wanting to ask one of the Merrow this question since she’d first worked out they were avoiding her. “Your father made fourteen betrothal contracts. I rejected Chase, so he’s been snapped up. Once I’ve made my decision, aren’t you at all concerned the twelve remaining clans will swoop in? You can’t honestly believe that you’ll be the spare, the one who isn’t chosen?”
Fredrik shrugged. “At least seven of the betrothal contracts are for spawning rights. I’ve already proven I’m a breeder so I could be in an out of a marriage before the ink dries on the contract. I’m pretty sure my sons will prove difficult enough to discourage the other five clans from choosing me. After all, you take me, you take my kids and they can be a… handful.”
“And me? Why does everyone avoid me like the plague? Is it because of the ten year clause?”
Fredrik shook his head, sending his brothers an annoyed look as they continued to squabble. “Ten years isn’t that long, not when you are as long lived as our races are. I suppose it boils down to the tales our father told us about the Makura when we were growing up. This race of proud spiteful she-devils who never met a man they didn’t want to wring the life out of. Humourless. Straight-laced. Temper driven. Killing you just to win an argument or to take control of the remote…”
“Wait, you think I’ll end up killing one of you?” Okay, she had thought about it, joked about it. But she wasn’t her grandmother, mother, or any of her flash tempered cousins.
“Can you unequivocally promise you won’t?” Fredrik asked with a pointed wary glance at something just over her shoulder.
Devon followed his look to find several of her raven glossy curls were following each of the brothers, like cobras waiting for a chance to strike. Embarrassed, she flicked her locks back over her shoulder, commanding it to behave. They were in public for Yami’s sake. And okay, none of her dinner companions was Liam, but her hair was just going to have to get used to the idea that Liam was a temporary anomaly in their lives. That they couldn’t go around threatening every Merrow prince just because they weren’t Liam.
“So what you’re telling me is that you are all cowards?”
Fredrik flinched almost imperceptibly though his smile remained in place. “Coward is kind of a harsh term, instead let’s say our father instilled in us a strong healthy sense of self-preservation. What it comes down to is that we’d rather live a long life with an ugly wife, than be married to a Makura who will slice and dice us if we so much as put our feet up on the coffee table.”
Devon took another sip of wine, thinking that if the Merrow King had drummed cowardice, or as he preferred to call it, self-preservation, into all his sons, then he’d failed when it came to Liam. The man had been racing to the Southern Sanctuary to warn her of the assassination plot when he’d had his accident. He’d shielded her with his own body when her car exploded, even though he knew from previous experience that the green fire burned through his water form.
Damn Liam thrice, he was a confusing man with his easy dimpled smile, endless patience and that seductively tempting twinkle that lurked in his aquamarine eyes.
Perhaps he was different from his half-brothers because he spent his early years with his mother, but he was still a Merrow, still five years younger than she was and still crystal clear about the fact that he wasn’t interested in marrying her.
“Why are you so sure I’ll kill one of you?” Devon questioned Fredrik who gave her a quick incredulous glance before flicking his attention to Hugh and Francis, whose conversation had now devolved into who got better marks at school.
“You’re the smarter one.”
“No, you got that science award.”
Hmmm, perhaps the man had a point.
* * *
Liam stared at the shadows on the bedroom ceiling. Contemplating the fact that he was lying in bed, wide awake, waiting for Devon to get home from her date. He wasn’t jealous he assured himself, just concerned for her safety. After all, there was a killer out there who could breathe deadly green fire.
He wondered what she was doing right that second, perhaps deciding to marry the guy she was having dinner with or she could be in danger. Yeah, in danger of making the biggest mistake of her life, as if any of his scumbag half-brothers was good enough to marry Devon.
Not that she seemed to have any choice in the matter, determined to honour the betrothal contract. So she’d have to marry one of them. Which meant he’d have to put his own plan into effect. He’d have to pursue the girl being offered from the Nanatsu clan.
The women of the clan resembled whales in the water and weren’t considered much more of a prize in their human form, unless you were a fan of huge women with facial hair. They were a notoriously shy race but really fertile, and since the contract was purely for spawning rights he’d just close his eyes for one night and think of… Devon.
Damn it, he kept coming back to Devon. And the more he thought of his cunning plan, the more it started to taste like ash in his mouth. It sounded like something one of his half-brothers would do.
It was all this recent talk of his mother, her determination to keep him safe, to keep him from his father. Could he really relinquish all rights to a female child and leave her behind. And what if it were a boy? His father would never trust him to raise a son and pass on the traditional Merrow values.
Liam found himself smiling, thinking of his father coming face to face with Devon if he ever tried to take a son of hers. Now there was a woman who would protect her children come hell or high water. And they’d be high maintenance kids, snarling spoilt princesses with long flowing raven hair, and rascally, up to endless mischief, blonde haired boys. It would take two strong willed parents to keep them in line.
Whoa, he did not like the direction his thoughts were headed. He was a free spirit. Moving where the work and his artistic muse took him. He wasn’t a tied to one place guy.
Sure, if he had a woman like Devon in his corner, it wouldn’t matter if his father knew where to find him. He doubted the man would seek him out to harangue him for not living off his criminal Merrow wits with Devon in the vicinity, glaring at the Merrow King, whilst she sharpened those killing nails of hers.
And woe betide any of his half-brothers who attempted to steal his identity or cause havoc in his life just for shits and giggle. They’d be hog tied by Devon’s hair before they could open their lying mouth to try and weasel their way out of having been caught red handed.
Once Devon gave you her loyalty she would honour that vow to the death, he was sure of that. Just as she would honour the ten year clause of the marriage contract. And there came the rub. Absently he scratched his bare chest. Having gotten to know Devon, like her… fuck, be a man, you’re in love with the Princess, he wasn’t sure he would be able to watch her walk away from him.
Ten years together would be a gift but when she walked out the door, she’d be ripping his heart out with him when she went.
Who was he kidding, he was going to be just as gutted in the very near future when she married one of his supposedly more suitable older half-brothers. But whoever Devon chose, it wouldn’t be him. He didn’t habitually swan about in pricey three piece suits. Or print out business cards claiming to be some high flying professional wanker who could take your money and triple it within three months.
He wasn’t the type of guy to buy an expensive car because he
cared what kind of image he projected. He wasn’t interested in fine dining unless the food was guaranteed plentiful and identifiable. He didn’t hook up with women because they had a staggering trust fund.
And above all else, he wasn’t the type of guy who, when he decided to sign up for marriage, did so for only ten years because some bloody contract somewhere stated there was a time limit involved. He was an all or nothing kind of guy, single or married. When you made a commitment to someone you upheld it until your last breath. His father may have no morals, his half-brothers may be cut from the same cloth, but the only thing he had to call his own since the moment he joined the Merrow Court was the sense of right and wrong instilled in him by his mother.
He tensed as he heard a car pull up and then drive away. It seems Devon’s police escort had dropped her off for the evening and clocked off duty. He listened to her open the front door and make a concerted effort to creep down the darkened hallway.
“How was your date?”
“Yami.” Devon paused in the doorway of her bedroom. “You scared the hell out of me.” She issued a soft relieved chuckle as she moved across the shadow filled room to the wardrobe, dropping the shoes she was carrying before heading for the bathroom.
“Sorry.” He really wasn’t. She shouldn’t have been surprised to find him waiting for her. “So, the date?”
“Hmmm…?” Devon was distracted by the sight of Liam in her bed, obviously naked except for the sheet covering the lower half of his body. Filtered moonlight playing over his muscular body in a most distracting manner. Damn, she’d deliberately stayed out late hoping that Liam would be asleep when she got home, preferably in his own bed. The man was just too… tempting, and she needed all her wits about her at the moment, she needed to stay focused. Speaking of which, what had he asked her? Oh, her date tonight. “Fun, I had fun.”
Liam frowned as the bathroom door closed behind her. Fun? What the fuck did she mean by that? Had she met her perfect match tonight? The future Mr Doctor Patel? Just which one of those assholes had managed to pull the wool over her eyes? It was all he could do to wait patiently whilst she finished brushing her teeth and returned to the bedroom.
Devon had come up with a plan whilst she was in the bathroom. It basically involved finding her oldest t-shirt to wear to bed and ignoring Liam’s presence completely. As she left the bathroom however, her hair seemed to have other ideas, as it pulled down the zipper of her dress and yanked on the material, dropping it to the floor.
Devon clasped her hands over her bra, but she was fighting a losing battle with only two hands versus a multitude of curls intent on getting her naked as soon as possible. Two curls snaking down her body lightning fast to hook around the edges of her black lacy knickers, wrenching them down, sending them puddling to the floor.
Rivers and Lakes, this was so embarrassing. She prayed the room was dark enough that Liam didn’t realise she was playing tug of war with her hair over her bra… and losing. She had to bite down hard on a gasp of exasperation as her bra went sailing across the room. Damn, the man probably thought she was doing some sort of sexy come on strip tease.
Except, now that she came to think about it, Liam who had sat up in bed, was giving her not a grateful anticipatory grin, no, if anything the man was scowling thunder clouds her way. What man, this man in particular, didn’t enjoy a strip tease? Even one as fast and as awkward as she’d just performed.
“Problem?” She sidled two steps over, grateful to find the black satin short robe she’d left on the hook at the back of the door. Getting into it though proved difficult as her hair was actively fighting her.
“So which asshole did you allow to lech all over you tonight?”
Devon’s back instantly straightened at the sound of contempt lacing his words, her hair stopped fighting her and the robe was quickly on and the belt tied. “Excuse me?”
“This fun, you had tonight. I was just wondering which of my half-brothers managed to ingratiate themselves into your good graces?”
“Well, if you must know, I had dinner with Francis, Hugh and Fredrik. They were quite the comedy act.”
“Three at once?”
“I decided to take your advice and play by my own rules when it came to the obligatory meet and greet requirement. You’ll be happy to hear I have the final four scheduled for lunch Saturday.”
“Then you’ll make your decision?” Liam felt his gut clench at the knowledge that the deadline on his time with Devon was ticking down a lot faster than he’d realised.
“There won’t be any point in putting it off, the sooner I get married, the sooner my ten year anniversary will come around and I’ll be free again.” Devon let out a small gasp of surprise, Liam was suddenly looming over her, backing her against the bedroom wall, one of his large warm hands resting on her satin clad hip.
“So we don’t have much time then.”
Devon swallowed, even in the shadowy bedroom she could see the heat in his eyes and something else… a seriousness, a desperation that she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Liam express before. No, she had to be imaging it.
“We…” She bit back a moan as he lowered his head to nuzzle the side of her throat, her traitorous hair shifting over to allow him better access. “Probably… shouldn’t be doing this anymore.”
“What?” He trailed kisses down her throat, his hand moving from her hip to the tie at her waist and pulling on it slowly as his other hand came up to push back the satin from one shoulder. “This?” He licked the madly beating pulse at the base of her throat. “Or this?” He was now nuzzling the exposed skin of her shoulder.
Devon couldn’t find the right words, she should be saying no, pushing him away, except one of her bare feet was sliding up Liam’s taut calf and wrapping around the back of his knee. “Wouldn’t it be better… smarter… if we…” Her eyes practically rolled back into her head as he kissed his way down to her breast, capturing a nipple in his mouth. “Finish this… now.”
“I still want you.” He let go of her nipple and palmed her breast, squeezing it gently, enjoying the feel of her fullness in his hand.
Devon buried her fingers in his thick hair. Staring into his shadow darkened eyes, seeing something in them that made her stomach churn and her knees mysteriously weaken. Her code was to always tell the truth, but if she said the words, this time, she might be the one who got hurt. But she was no coward. “I want you too.”
“Then let’s not talk it to death, or overthink what we’re doing. We have from now until the weekend. What do you say, Princess?”
For her answer she pulled his head down, planting her lips on his.
Chapter Sixteen
Devon gripped her pager tighter as it continued to emit a loud insistent beep. Automatically she picked up her pace. She could hear Zeke McKenzie, her police escort for the day, close on her heels as she raced down the stairs. Code black in the emergency room. That translated to multiple traumas in-coming, all hands on deck.
Damn, she’d been ten minutes from leaving early for the day. On the other hand, knowing this district it was bound to be some challenging magically induced emergency that would test her skills and hopefully keep her mind off the countdown clock ticking away in her head.
Her date with the remaining four Merrow Princes was scheduled for tomorrow noon and then on Sunday she had an appointment to meet with Alma. After which she would make her final decision. It was a looming unspoken deadline. She and Liam couldn’t continue on… together, not after she made her final choice.
Devon could only pray that they would be heartily sick of one another by that stage. So far, it didn’t seem to be working, despite the fact she spent every waking moment she wasn’t at the hospital or the adjoining clinic with the man.
The problem was, the more time she spent with Liam, the more she seemed to crave him. Not just the sex, but sharing meals together, and the fun debates they’d had on a surprising array of topics from how to cure world hunger to why really bad
horror movies were surprisingly addictive.
She hadn’t laughed so much in… well, forever. And whilst she’d expected to be climbing the walls without her daily swim in the river, she found that spending time with Liam relaxed and relieved her tension just as well, if not better. Both yesterday morning and again today she’d awakened feeling sated, languid and surprisingly refreshed given the little amount of sleep Liam had allowed her each night.
Pushing through the trauma room double doors a wave of sound hit Devon. Her training allowed her to catalogue a number of factors. Six beds were already full, the ambulance bay was empty, the patients were arriving via the translocator system. Even as she watched, the nearest supply closet door swung open, and two of what she assumed were members of the District Enforcement team stepped out carrying a limp form between them.
Devon used her tersest Doctor’s voice to get their attention. “This way.” She pointed to a vacant bed.
Her patient was a large male, awake but dazed. His face was a mask of blood, shards of glass erupting from his flesh. One dangerously near his eye, but more worrisome Devon noted, was a smaller shard jutting out of the side of his neck. “Nurse!” She glanced at one of the men who’d been carrying her patient. “What happened?”
Pushing back dark red hair with a bloodied hand the tall broad stranger watched Devon closely as she checked vitals and studied the extent of his fallen comrade’s injuries. “We’re not sure yet. Either a water heater or an air conditioner over heated and exploded. There was a group of us duelling… fencing, and the viewing wall just exploded.”
“At the fitness centre?” Devon glanced up in shock. Yami, Liam! Was Liam in one of these beds? She forced her shoulders to relax, the doctors here were all professionals, if he was here he was being well looked after.
A nurse bustled up, edging away the blood stained enforcer in the ripped jeans and t-shirt. “Doctor?”
