Chapter 9

Charlotte

In the hours that followed my parents’ death, Imogen and I weren’t allowed to speak to anyone outside our family. Even then, whenever we showed the slightest hint of grief, our nanny would shush us, order us to behave like the future queens of the Isle.

Only neither of us knew how to act. No one had taken the time to explain anything. All we knew is that our parents were dead and we were leaving, if Parliament allowed it, and we couldn’t cry.

We couldn’t show any emotion at all.

My life and my future, along with my siblings’, hung in the balance for those precious hours, hours that seemed like days to a twelve-year-old girl.

Fifteen years later and nothing’s changed. It’s been two hours since we’ve arrived, since he’s been inside me, and I’m still lying about in bed, watching Brooks on the balcony as he smokes and chats on his mobile, pacing back and forth all the while.

It’s the first time he’s done that, and I’m not sure if he’s one of those casual users or if it’s something he’s kept from me.

I frown.

Honestly, I shouldn’t be upset at all because it’s none of my business. We are lovers first, friends second…or at least we were friends. Perhaps only I thought of us as friends.

I shouldn’t have been so candid with him, just like I’d been the evening he took me on a picnic date. But what was I supposed to do? Pretend that it was something that happened every day for me? That I’ve had so many men worshipping at my feet that it was nothing?

On one hand, I shouldn’t be so easy to please, but on the other, I’m not the type to pretend I don’t like something when I truly do, especially when the gift is so thoughtful.

Closing my eyes, I pull the sheet up closer to my shoulders and settle against the pillows. After a while, I doze off, only to awaken to kisses from Brooks. He doesn’t taste of cigarettes but of mint and everything that I associate with Brooks.

Automatically, my arms go around him and my mouth seeks his. I can’t help it, the way he tastes is better than any dessert I’ve ever had in my life.

“Forgive me?” he asks, pulling me to him. He buries his face in my hair. “I had some issues at the office that had to be resolved and didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

“If you’ve work to do, at least tell me so I’m not left wondering if I’ve done or said something wrong,” I say, knowing full well that he had left the bed with the excuse of needing a shower and then didn’t bother coming back at all. The only thing that stopped me from having a full-on panic attack was that I heard part of his conversation with one of his editors and his tone was sharp, not smug or cocky.

“I was an asshole.” He lifts his head and stares into my eyes with his own dark blue ones. “Simple as that and I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be one to me, you know. I’d rather you be honest than leave me wondering and guessing,” I say, refusing to look away from his heavy gaze. I never said what I wanted before, never voiced my opinion on how I wanted to be treated…until now.

Until Brooks.

“I’m not being a very good friend, am I?” he asks.

“We’re friends now?” I ask lightly. While I want to make a big deal about it, I don’t want to act like an idiot. Bad enough I admitted I didn’t have any outside my family.

“Friends and lovers. It’s a good combination.” He smiles at me and I have to restrain myself from kissing him.

“It’s a great combination…if you can handle it properly.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Princess,” he says, rolling to his back so I can straddle his hips. The sheet falls to my waist and his eyes light up. “You have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re only saying that because you want me again.” I move my hips slowly, grinding down on him. He’s hard and long and thick, and I want his cock inside me so badly that it’s downright shameful.

But I don’t care.

Shameful isn’t in a Sinclair’s vocabulary when it comes to what we want and need.

He cups my breasts, sliding his thumbs against my hard nipples, the friction making me writhe. “Hell, yes, I want you again. I want you morning, noon, and night.”

“Hard to get work done that way.”

A wicked grin kicks up the corners of his mouth. “I’m sure I could manage.”

I lean down, kissing him until one thing leads to another and he’s as nude as I am. Grabbing a condom he rolls me over before sliding inside me.

Claiming me with each kiss.

With each stroke.

With each caress of his hands as they wander over my body.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

“I love the way you apologize.”

He tilts his head to one side, his light-colored hair even paler in the moonlight that’s shining through the expanse of windows. “What else do you love?”

“The way you move inside me.”

Another thrust of his hips makes me gasp. “Anything else?”

“The way you kiss me.” I tip up my chin, my mouth eagerly meeting his.

“What else, sweet Charlotte?”

My hands dig into his shoulders, my nails making him hiss in pleasure. “Everything…

“Everything you do to me,” I add, realizing how my answer may sound. Bad enough to admit friendship, but more than that…

He pauses, his hips no longer moving as he stares down at me. The brown that circles the centers of his blue eyes is dark, nearly as black as the pupil. He touches my face, sliding his fingers along my jaw and under my chin, only to glide down the center of my chest. Skim along my side and up my back.

Over and over he does this, until I’m writhing and gasping, and feel as though I’m about to die of want and desire.

I moan when he sucks one of my nipples into the hot recesses of his mouth, then moves to the other. He won’t move his hips, won’t go any deeper than he already is. I lift my hips and widen my thighs, but he shakes his head.

“Just enjoy what I’m doing.”

“What are you doing?” I finally cry.

“Making sure I don’t miss loving a single inch of you.”

My heart leaps in my chest at his words, but I don’t say anything more, too afraid to break the spell we’re both under.

Instead I pull his head down to mine and make sure I don’t miss loving an inch of him.

The next morning, I wake up to a present sitting in the middle of the bed. It’s wrapped in shiny pink wrapping paper and topped with a large silver bow.

“Happy Birthday,” Brooks shouts, throwing confetti into the air. It lands on the bed, in my hair, and on my skin. “Kinda think you’re starting to look like my birthday present.”

“When’s your birthday?” I ask, then blow a piece of confetti off the corner of my mouth.

“July fourth.”

“No.”

“Oh yeah. My dad was a senator when my brother and I were born, so you can only imagine the press he got for it.” He sits on the edge of the bed and hands me the gift. “Enough about me, it’s your birthday and from my research, a national holiday on the Isle of Man.”

I wince. “Please don’t bring that up.”

“First set of twin girls to be born in two hundred years. That’s a big deal, Princess.”

“Not really.” I pick at the bow, swallowing down the misery that always accompanies my birthday. “Imagine being paraded about, like show ponies, every year and with the knowledge that you will always be forced to celebrate like that.”

“Except this year.”

I nod. “Only Gen has to be on display.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Only for her, but I think she likes it.”

He picks confetti from my hair. “Thanks for spending it with me instead.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Open your present.” He sits beside me. “I know you’re going to like it.”

“So cocky.”

“It’s one of my best traits.”

“If you say so.”

“Along with my huge ego—correction, my used-to-be huge ego.”

Laughing, I tear into the paper like a child at Christmas and open the box. Inside there’s…a key? “You bought me a house?” I ask rather stupidly.

“No, that’s the extra key to my house at the beach. I’m giving you access whenever you want.”

“Really?”

He nods. “You said you’d never been to the coast and now you don’t have an excuse not to go whenever the mood strikes you.”

“That’s…I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you is good.” He takes the key from me. “If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to take it.”

Oh dear. I’ve made a mess of things. A sophisticated woman, a woman with a lover, would have simply taken the key and been all nonchalant about it.

My eyes narrow playfully and I snatch the key back, holding it to my chest. “When did you think of this gift?”

“Last night, after you fell asleep,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “I hadn’t gotten you anything, so I scrambled and got some help from my brother’s friend and his wife. He had the key made and she wrapped it up for me.”

“Tell your brother’s friend and wife that I adore your gift and the effort that went into making it happen.” I kiss his shocked face before setting the key back in the box. “Do forgive me for forgetting how to properly react when a gift is given.”

“You’re adorable when you’re so formal,” he says, clearly back to his old self. “So damn adorable that it’s time to give you a birthday spanking.”

He lunges for me and I scream, jumping from the bed. Obviously, he doesn’t want to catch me yet, because he allows me to get away.

I run, stark naked, into the living room, laughing madly. This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.

“Charlotte,” he roars. “Don’t go out there.”

“It’s my birthday,” I shout, looking behind me. “I can do what I want.”

I nearly stumble into the sofa at the sight of Brooks’s twin standing in front of me, wearing a polo shirt and khaki pants. With a stifled shout, I attempt to cover my breasts and mound with my arm and hand.

“Hullo, I’m Charlotte.” I almost reach out to shake his hand, then laugh nervously. “You must be Briggs.”

“Yes you are.” His smile grows wider. “And yes I am.”

“Turn around, you perv,” Brooks says, marching into the room with a blanket in his hands. He throws it around my shoulders as Briggs gives me his back. “I meant to tell you we had company, but I got distracted when you ran around.”

“Naked and up to no good,” his brother chimes in.

Brooks glares at him. “You’re not helping.”

“Didn’t ask me to. You said to be here at ten A.M. and I did as my big brother ordered.”

“Your brother is staying here as well?” I ask, totally confused.

“No, I’m flying with y’all to Wilmington. This place is Hayden’s.”

“Who’s Hayden?” I ask.

“The oldest brother,” Brooks explains. “He had this apartment before he got married and decided to hold on to it. Briggs and I use it when we’re in town.”

“That’s so nice of him.”

“It would be even nicer if you could get dressed, Princess.”

I become acutely aware of the cold, marble tile against my bare feet. “Yes. I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” Briggs calls out, glancing over his shoulder.

“Stop looking,” Brooks says, punching his brother in the shoulder before turning to me and smacking my arse. “Wear something casual. The polo match isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” I say smartly, and Brooks rolls his eyes. I quite like him like this, protective and bossy.

He follows me to the bedroom. “I’m already packed so when you’re done, we’ll grab a bite to eat and head to the airport.”

Rising up on my tiptoes, I give Brooks a lingering kiss. “For what it’s worth, you are definitely the sexier twin.”

“So are you.” He winks at me, then shuts he door.