Page 8 of In Case You Didn't Know

“After midnight?” West looks skeptical. “What the hell are you going to do that late?”

Review the security tapes for the Ivory Rooms from the last few months to see if Francie is a regular. “It’s been a long day,” I tell him. “I’ll be sleeping. Alone.”

And I absolutely won’t be thinking about long lashes and innocent eyes.

“Well you’re about as much fun as your brother,” he says, wrinkling his nose at Hudson.

“Keep me out of this.” Hudson shakes his head. “I’ve had enough headaches today, thank you. Did you know Eden lost her passport in Peru?” He glances at me, clearly pissed. “I had to pull some strings to get one urgently provided at the consulate.”

I roll my eyes, because that’s so like our youngest sister. “Yeah, I heard.”

West frowns. “Wait, is she okay?

Hudson gives him a sharp look. “Yeah, she’s fine. Why?”

West shrugs, too casually. “Just making conversation.” But he takes a slow sip of his whiskey, like he’s hiding a smile.

“Anyway,” West says. “I’ve bigger fish to fry. Like how to deal with an extra woman coming to my hotel room.” He lifts his brow at me.

But my gaze meets Hudson’s. We both try not to smile because that doesn’t exactly sound like a problem for West.

And that makes me think of Francie again. Of the way she looked in that tight white dress, her dark hair cascading down her back, her hazel eyes large and full of desire.

When the hell did she grow up? My mouth feels dry as I try to remind myself that she’s ten years younger than I am. But all I can think about is the way she looked at me through those thick, long lashes.

How soft her skin felt against my palms.

I blink that thought away. She’s off-limits. And I don’t need any more problems right now.

Especially not ones involving my little sister’s best friend.

FRANCIE

Hysterical laughter echoes down the phone as I recant the sorry tale of my night at the Ivory Club to Charlie two days later. It’s midnight here, which means it’s only nine o’clock in L.A., and my cousin is getting ready to go out to a bar, that requires clothing.

I, on the other hand, am right out of the shower and ready to get into my pajamas because I’ve spent the last two days in a writing whirlwind, despite my complete embarrassment at my confrontation with Asher Fitzgerald.

I’m stupidly annoyed with him. But I have to submit these chapters to Alice soon so I need to buckle down and write them. So rather than letting my fury fester, I decided to throw myself into the new world I’m creating.

The anti-hero, the annoyingly sexy War Legate Thane Arcor, is all iron muscle and battlefield calm. One quiet ‘Enough’ and entire battalion obeys him. He blocks onslaughts with his shields, drags the heroine behind him to protect her, despite her annoyance, and then growls at her for being reckless.

He’s controlling, overprotective, and maddeningly hot. He’d be perfect if every time I write a scene with him I didn’t see Asher Fitzgerald growling at me to ‘stay safe’.

“Why didn’t you just tell him you were there for research?” Charlie asks me, sounding delighted at the turn of events. I’mglad I’m entertaining him with the most humiliating night of my life.

“Because he doesn’t know I’m a writer,” I remind him. When I first started self-publishing I made the decision that I didn’t want anybody except my closest friends to know. That’s why I chose a pen name and swore to never tell my big brothers about it.

“So you’re just going to let him think you’re a deviant?” Charlie asks. “Oh this is so delicious. No, sweetheart,” he says. “Ten minutes.”

“Are you with somebody?” I ask him.

“Just a friend. It’s all good.” He lowers his voice. “Are you going to tell Autumn about this?” he asks.

“No.” I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. The towel becomes loose and I have to tuck the end back in. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because then she’ll know her brother goes to sex clubs.”