Page 43 of The Billionaire's Christmas Bride

My face reddens. "That’s it; I’m hanging up now."

"Hold on." Damian pretends to wipe the tears from his face, "You haven’t told us what you intend to do with her?"

"What’s it to you?" I growl, "And don’t talk about her."

"So, it’s like that, huh?" Arpad snickers. "You seeing what I’m seeing, Rockstar?" he asks Damian.

Damian stares at me, then shakes his head, "My, my, the doctor who had his arse splashed all over the internet for making a sex tape has met his match, huh?"

"It’s a damn fine arse," I grumble, "and if you don’t have a sex tape to your credit, you technically are persona non grata in the online world."

"But does she know about it?" Damian asks.

My neck heats and my heart begins to thud. "Why would it matter to her?"

"It would matter if you didn’t tell her," Arpad points out, "Hold on, I'm adding the Father to our chinwag, so he doesn't feel left out."

"What the fuck?" I growl as Edward's face appears in another window on the screen.

"Hey Doc, how’s it going?" Edward asks.

"It was going all fine and dandy until you lot decided to intrude."

"Sorry to cut in on your alone time with your lady—"

"Not my lady," I grumble.

Damian snickers.

Arpad chortles.

"What the fuck are you jokers laughing at?"

"You, arsehole, and how you’ve been played."

I scowl, "Fucking Saint."

Damian nods.

"He double-booked me with her. Wait until I get my hands on the dickwad; I’m going to throttle his neck.

"Victoria won’t like you getting your hands on her husband."

"Man," I rub the back of my neck, "not that I begrudge them their happiness, not after everything they’ve been through... But he could havenotintruded in my life," I grouse.

"Jace, then Sinner, and Saint," Damian drawls. "You’d think it was catching…all that happiness."

"Bull-fucking-shit." I sink into my chair, tip it back. "I’m not falling for whatever madness possessed those knobs to get hitched."

"Just make sure you give me enough notice," Edward pipes in.

"Notice?" I crack my neck, "The hell you going on about Father?"

"If you plan on getting hitched—"

The two front legs of the chair land on the ground with a thump, "Hitched? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Your last-minute plan that you don’t know about yet." Edward stabs a finger at me, "If you’re planning on doing it, I need a little notice. I have a life too, you know. I can’t always drop everything and put in an appearance to marry you guys, you know—?