Page 31 of The Wrong Husband (The Davenports #6)

Connor

I can’t believe she agreed. Everyone seems taken in by her. Including my least likely to be charmed brother.

"You and James' sister?" Brody eyes me as he takes a sip from his coffee cup.

Since when did my brother take such an interest in my personal life? Did something in my expression give me away? Do I look as shaken as I feel?

Has she undone me so thoroughly I can’t hide how she’s turned my world on its head?

Lunch was mercifully without event. Then, the family adjourned to the library. Those with kids, including my brother Nathan and my friend Sinclair, left.

"Didn’t expect to see Toren and Viktor here." I glance toward where the two of them are deep in conversation with James. All three are sprawled in armchairs in the far corner of the plush room.

“All three are family friends. You know how Arthur loves stacking these ‘family’ occasions with people he thinks he can wrangle a deal out of.” Brody lifts a brawny shoulder like none of this affects him.

But I’m not fooled.

No matter how much we Davenport brothers have carved our individual ways in this world, we’ve never managed to stay completely unaffected by Arthur’s machinations. It’s an unspoken worry that we’ve learned to watch out for, so we can deal with the fallout.

"What is he planning?" I scratch my jaw. Why does Arthur want to consolidate his relations with the Hamiltons, Whittingtons, and the Royal Family of Verenza? It makes business sense, of course. And the old man never misses a networking opportunity. But having these three men over, and at the same time? I’d love to get an inkling of what he’s thinking.

"Arthur’s not going to share anything." Brody sets his jaw. "He prefers his little reveals.”

That, Gramps does. Normally, it has to do with getting us brothers married off. But given it’s only me and Brody left now, I wonder if he’s not looking at fresh pastures. "Maybe, he thinks the three of them need help with setting down?" I chuckle.

Brody shoots me a disbelieving look. "Like they want Arthur meddling in their personal lives?"

"Have any of us?"

The two of us exchange a smirk.

Brody’s phone vibrates. He pulls it out, reads the message, and chuckles—low and deep. A sound I’ve never heard from him before. Then he taps out a quick reply, still grinning like he’s got a secret, and leans back in his seat with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“What was that all about?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

His expression flickers, the smirk vanishing so fast, it’s almost comical. He schools his features into bland neutrality, as if I’ve caught him with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. "Just making sure my assistant’s staying on her toes.”

“You mean, making her life a living hell with enough work to drive three people into burnout?” I scoff.

He lifts a shoulder. “Actually”—a furrow appears between his brows— “she’s the only one who hasn’t quit on me. She’s lasted the longest of any assistant I’ve had. That’s saying something.”

His tone is off. Curious. Like he’s trying to puzzle something out and doesn’t quite like how close he’s getting to the answer.

“Maybe, instead of testing her endurance, you could try not weaponizing your to-do lists?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he murmurs, but there’s a faraway look in his eyes now. “Her eyes spark when she’s annoyed. And when she bites back—she’s quick, wicked-smart. Challenges me. Doesn’t flinch. It’s…exhilarating.”

I stare at him. My eternally grumpy brother, who scares interns with a single glance, sounds almost dreamy. Like he’s replaying some particularly enjoyable verbal sparring match and wishing it weren’t over.

“Careful,” I say, voice low, “you sound like a man who’s starting to enjoy the chase.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” I tilt my head. “You’ve never noticed the color of your assistant’s eyes before. Let alone, commented on how they spark.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he gives a derisive chuckle.

But there’s color rising on his neck. He wears the ‘I’m too late to hide it, so I’ll bury it under sarcasm’ look.

Classic Brody.

“I’m just saying”—I lean back, let my words land—“watch out. You keep playing with fire, you might trip into it.”

He snorts. “I’ve never lost control of a situation in my life.”

And yet, from the way he glances at his phone again—like he’s hoping for another message—I’m not so sure.

"What are you two cackling about?" James, who’s broken away from his trio, approaches us. "You seem like you’re up to no good."

"Not us." I nod in Arthur’s direction. He’s holding court on the comfortable settee which has been pulled up close to the fireplace.

It’s a balmy summer evening, yet he has the fire on inside the library.

Arthur beat the Big C recently. Still, he looks healthy, with glowing cheeks.

And when he looks at his girlfriend Imelda, there’s a look of contentment on his face.

Right now, she’s talking with a man I don’t recognize.

"Who’s that?" I nod in his direction.

"You don’t know Adrian Sovrano?" James asks, surprised.

"He looks different, almost unrecognizable." Man must have been working out, for he’s put on some serious muscle.

"He’s been away, traveling. But with Michael having returned to Italy on a temporary basis to take care of his children, and the rest of the Sovranos busy with their families, they needed help running their family business." Brody shrugs.

Since having lost his wife, Michael has retreated from the business world. “What about these rumors that Karma is alive and that he faked her death to keep her safe from his enemies?”

I'm not one for conspiracy theories, but… Michael’s the former capo of the Cosa Nostra, turned business tycoon. Everything he does is of interest to the business world—and the underworld—which puts him on my radar.

“I usually steer clear of gossip, except…” James pauses long enough for the silence to bite. “He never held a funeral for Karma. Which makes one wonder if there's some truth to these persistent rumors.”

“Wonder why Arthur invited Adrian.” I drag my thumb under my lip.

“He must be interested in Adrian’s plans for the Sovrano’s businesses,” Brody offers.

“I'll wager; he wants to remedy Adrian’s bachelor status.” I purse my lips.

"You’re referring to his machinations where he tries to marry off you lot?" James turns to me with a glint in his eyes.

“It’s just Brody and me left. The rest of our brothers are married. I wouldn’t be surprised if Arthur wants to turn his attention to you and the other single guys here—and find brides for the lot of you.” I grin at him.

James pales. "And here I thought this was simply an afternoon with my quasi-family. Considering my parents are away, traveling at the moment."

Brody and I exchange another look.

"Arthur loves having his family around, simply so he can lord over them.” Brody raises a hand.

"Maybe I’m being a bit uncharitable. Arthur does care for his family.

And he does believe that he’s doing his best for them, but that translates into getting involved in our business and being confident that he knows what’s best for us when, really, all he’s doing is being intrusive. "

"To give the old man his due, it’s thanks, in part, to his schemes that our brothers and our uncle Quentin are now married to the loves of their life, so?—"

"So, you’re okay with him getting involved in getting you married off?"

It’s my turn to stiffen. "He doesn’t have a say in my personal life." I jut out my chin.

Brody’s expression turns incredulous. “This is Arthur we’re talking about. If he’s not scheming to get one of us married, he’s not happy.”

And if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have proposed to Fever.

James narrows his gaze. "Is this why you asked my sister to marry you?"

"You asked Phoenix to marry you?" Brody bursts out. It just so happens, it’s during a lull in the conversation, so his voice echoes around the room.

Every single face in the room turns toward us. I glare at him.

"Oops." He smirks, not looking very sorry.

Phe turns to us, her eyebrows twisted. She wears an expression of confusion.

"Remember what I told you?" James leans into my face. "If you hurt her, you’ll have me to contend with."

"This has nothing to do with you," Phe snaps as she approaches us.

"On the contrary. I ask him to watch out for you, and he betrays me by coming onto you.” James scowls.

“About that”—Phe glares at him—“I haven’t forgotten you asked your friend to run surveillance on me,” she whisper-shouts.

The others have gone back to their conversations, thank God. The last thing I need is the rest of my family weighing in with their opinions on the matter.

Fact is, we wouldn’t have met if not for James’ request to me.

I don’t say that aloud. It’s only going to piss off Phe further. For now, I enjoy watching her take down my friend.

James widens his eyes at his sister. “I understand it upset you, but I apologized. My intentions were only to make sure you were safe. I can't help but worry about you.”

She makes a rude noise. “What you are is overly protective.”

“It is one of my faults.” His features soften. “And I truly apologize that it made you feel like I was intruding on your life. But Phe, you’re our only sister. And it’s natural for me… And for all our brothers to feel like we should take care of you.”

She begins to speak, but he holds up his hand. “And before you can complain that they haven’t been in touch because they’re in different corners of the world, I promise you, they reach out to me for regular updates.”

“You’ve become the central node for intra-family communication.” She gives a theatrical shudder. “Trust me, I’m not envious at all.”

“Does that mean you forgive me?” James asks, voice soft.

“I’m thinking about it.” Phe tosses her head.

“That’s all I ask of you, Little Sister.” He holds out his hand. “At least let’s shake on a temporary peace?”

"Don't be such a doofus." She rolls her eyes and smacks his shoulder then opens her arms.

James pulls her into a tight hug, the tension easing from his shoulders. "I really am sorry, Phe. You know, I love you."

"I know. I love you, too. Just… Try to give me some credit, will ya'? I'm an adult."

"You're right." He grimaces. "I overstepped."

“And just so you’re aware”—he shoots me a sideways glance—"I give you permission to court her.”

She opens her mouth to chew him out, then notices the teasing glint in James’ eyes.

“Ugh, stop it.” She scowls at him.

James laughs.

"You’re courting her?" Arthur booms out.

I’m not surprised he’s getting into the conversation. In fact, I wonder what took him so long. Also, it’s Arthur. And I do want him far away from me and any discussions to do with my future.

"Come here, boy, and bring your woman with you."