Page 46 of Covert

“There’s no chance of that. My dorky brother is absolutely crazy for you. Are you sure you want to become part of our insane family?”

To her amazement, tears glistened in Ebony’s eyes. Her friend rarely cried; Sam could count the number of times Ebony let emotion get the better of her.

“We’re already family, and don’t you forget it.”

Sam hugged her best friend and blinked back her tears, knowing if she let them fall now she’d never stop.

Since her return from Melbourne and in the privacy of her room each night, she’d cried enough tears to fill the Pacific twice over and she’d be damned if she let her heartbreak spoil Ebony and Pete’s wedding day.

Ebony released her. “Time to get this show on the road. There’s a chapel down the road where my charming prince is waiting.”

Sam chuckled, unable to associate the brother who had put frogs in her bed with Ebony’s version of a charming prince.

“If you say so. Though personally, I think that guy’s a fable, ranking alongside that gingerbread house I spent years searching for in our local rainforest as a kid.”

“They’re not all like Dylan, you know,” Ebony said, fixing her with a pointed stare.

Sam shrugged, wishing her friend hadn’t brought up the man she’d been trying desperately to forget.

“It’s not his fault. I lied to him. It’s natural he’d jump to conclusions about the rest.”

“That’s BS. If the guy had half a brain in his head he would’ve followed you here and given you a chance to explain. Don’t you dare defend him.”

Sam squeezed Ebony’s arm and led her to the door. “Calm down. It isn’t good for the bride to get this riled before the ceremony. Besides, Dylan Harmon is history. Let’s focus on more important matters, like getting you married.”

Thankfully, Ebony dropped the subject, leaving Sam to wonder how long it would take before she believed her ownpropaganda and relegated the memory of the one man she loved to past history.

34

After a week of endless business problems, Dylan had finally managed to arrange a flight to Brisbane.

He had to cancel the trip several times, leading him to believe that perhaps he wasn’t destined to sort out the mess with Sam.

However, he couldn’t get her out of his mind, and he knew he owed it to himself to find closure, one way or the other.

He wanted answers to several puzzling questions and Sam was the only woman who could provide them.

Striding to the front door of the Popov mansion, he took in the sweeping river views, the manicured lawns, and the impressive façade of the entrance with its marble tiled verandah, towering columns, and double wrought iron door, wondering for the hundredth time why a woman with this much wealth would want to work for him.

Despite what he’d learned in his investigations—that Samantha was in fact a princess—he still couldn’t shake the feeling she’d set her sights on him in the matrimonial stakes.

Why else would she have said it when he’d overheard her on the phone?

There had to be more behind her scheme in working for him and he wouldn’t leave Brisbane until he had answers.

He thumped on the door, out of his depth for the first time in years, and not relishing the feeling one bit.

As the door opened, he smiled when Peter, Sam’s brother, stepped toward him. But before he could say anything, Peter glowered at him and clenched his fist.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

35

Dylan held out his hand, hoping the other man wouldn’t punch him in the nose, which is exactly what he looked like doing.

“Hi, Peter. I’m Dylan Harmon. We met at the airport in Sydney, when your sister was working for me?”

Peter stared at him like he was pond scum and ignored his outstretched hand. “I remember. Now answer my question. What are you doing here?”

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