Page 51 of Nothing to No One

“In shame?”

If the man pleasuring her was her actual, supposed fiancé she’d be ashamed all over the place. Not that it would ever happen, unless she was super drunk, mortifyingly inebriated, to the point it would be assault not consent. She shuddered at the thought.

Anyone should be embarrassed to be caught with Roman given the mess of his life. If he wasn’t so damn cocky, she’d say anyone taking advantage of him would border assault too. The guy was strung out all the time. Had to be if Struan kept steppingin to cover his ass. Maybe not on drugs, but Roman Lowe did not have his shit together, not even close.

“I’m going to set,” Roman said. “I’m not unreliable. I’m not letting the world think that I’m up to this kind of crazy shit.” Again. “I bet Struan’s already there.”

“Struan’s already where?” The voice of the man himself prompted her to grab the back of the couch to look over it just as he wandered upstairs from the kitchen. “You guys having a party without me?”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “I’m getting chewed out,” she admitted and slouched against the back of the couch as he came around it. “For being slutty.”

“Whoa, then I missed something, because you were sleeping alone when I checked in on you this morning.”

Oh, now that was hot.

Did he really creep in her room at night to check she was okay? That she was alone? Huh, it was hot until the question: why wouldn’t she be alone?

Did Struan worry his brother, or someone else, would sneak into her room at night? Good to know. Yep, she’d be locking the door from then on.

He dropped onto the couch next to her and scooped up the newspaper. “I didn’t know we still got these.” She stifled a laugh. “What’s the problem?”

Picture down, he discarded the paper. Not because he was ashamed of it, to protect her modesty while sitting in that room with that judgmental pair.

“He can’t be doing shit like this.” Roman marched closer, pointed finger at the floor. “This is not your fucking job.”

“It’s not like you were fighting me for it last night, or the night B and I met. You can’t decide when you want it and decide when you don’t, just pick her up and put her down as you see fit.If she agreed to marry you, you should be a stable force in her life, someone she can rely on, someone she can—”

“Fuck around with in public at parties?” Roman cut his brother off. “Great. We’ve already established her and me are going out tonight. Should I bring protection or are you on the pill, Sugarlips?”

Struan shot to his feet. “If you so much as think about—”

“Everyone calm down,” she said, standing more slowly, threading her fingers through Struan’s, hoping to ease tensions. His focus stayed on his brother. “We’ve upset the status quo.” Seeking answers in any of them was fruitless. “I admit I don’t understand why there’s a problem, but I don’t know this town. There’s obviously something I’m missing. If you need us to apologize—”

“No one is apologizing,” Struan declared, his fingers clamping deeper between hers. “Everyone at that place thought I was you, Ro, and she’s supposed to be engaged to you. What’s the problem?”

“I would never do that,” Roman snapped, pointing toward the inverted paper. “I would never—”

“Please the woman you’re supposed to love? Says a lot about you, brother.”

“Both of you put your tackle away,” Magnus said, finally finding a spot in the middle. Man couldn’t have got as far as he had with the brothers without being used to a little compromise. “It happened, and it’s in the press. No, nobody died. These are not the kind of party boy headlines we need right now.”

That’s what it was? Back in the throes of his hedonism days had he cheated on Sway? Had there been pictures and headlines and scandals falling left and right around the woman? Why would she put up with it?

Her sympathy for Struan was a given. It was automatic. She didn’t know how he kept it up. Always clearing up after hisbrother, but Sway? How did the woman manage to wake up to Roman every single day?

Roman was a nightmare, and as far as she knew, he was sober every time he was in her company. Imagine having to deal with him while he was on drugs, high, spaced out, erratic. She scoffed. More erratic. That was where the wariness came from: his volatility. The air vibrated around him like he was a guitar string wound too tight, on the cusp of snapping. And him, or someone, kept on turning the tuning pegs.

“Bambi’s staying at home today.”

“You’re benching her?” Struan’s outrage was flattering. “You can’t keep her locked up here like a prisoner.”

“Do you want her answering questions?” Magnus snapped. “Do you, Stru? Want the press taking her picture and banging on the limo windows? Screaming her name? Isn’t this why we brought her here? Why she agreed to be here? So we could protect her from that circus?”

Hmm, fuzz, guy had a point.

She swung her and Struan’s joined hands a little toward her ass. “I’ll be okay here,” she said. “If that’s the price for what happened last night, I’d pay it every minute, and you know it.”

His chin dropped, landing his eyes on hers. “So would I.”

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