Work was going utterly mad for me, and the busier I got, the more stretched my focus became on the job at hand and less able to watch out for her safety. The past two weeks had been good for Brynne and me, and our relationship, but not without worry. The worry would never go away. I’ve been in the security business long enough to know that when things seem most in order it’s not the time to let down your guard. She was still very vulnerable and the thought made me insane.
“Sorry, E. Lost track of the time and all that,” Ivan interrupted, plopping down across from me.
“Nice of you to show up. For the appointment that you made, I might add. And don’t sit there. Brynne’s with me.” I pointed to the next chair. “She’ll be back in a moment.”
Ivan moved to the next chair over. “Something came up and I got waylaid.”
“Yeah,” I snorted. “Your c**k got waylaid. Who were you in bed with this time?”
“Bugger off, it wasn’t that. Damn reporters dogging me—say I need something more substantial than that.” He eyeballed the wine and motioned for a waiter, the hollow look of pain showing for just an instant before he masked it away from prying eyes.
I let him be. My cousin had his faults but then everyone has. It didn’t mean he’d deserved the lot he’d gotten either. Yeah, Ivan was just as f**ked up as the rest of us.
Brynne made her way back to the table a few moments later, her expression unreadable, but if I could guess, I’d say she had something on her mind. I wondered what it was.
I stood and reached for her hand, kicking Ivan’s chair leg in the process so he’d get off his arse. He jumped up and widened his eyes when he saw her. I wished I’d kicked his leg instead of just the chair’s leg.
“Brynne, my cousin, Ivan Everley. Ivan, Brynne Bennett, my very beautiful, and I might add, very taken, girlfriend.”
“Enchanté, Brynne.” He took her hand and offered a kiss that barely passed as neutral in my book, but then did I expect anything different from him?
Stupid rhetorical question.
She smiled beautifully as always, greeting Ivan politely as I seated her and then myself. Ivan just stood there like a dimwit.
“You can sit now, cousin. And put your tongue back in your mouth,” I said.
“Well, Brynne, I was prepared to ask you how you managed to snag Ethan but now that I’ve met you finally, I think the better question is for him.” Ivan made a show of looking at me. “How in the hell did you capture such an exquisite creature as this, E? I mean, just look at her! And you? Well, you are so dull and surly all the time.” He focused back to Brynne. “My dear, what do you see in him?” He made a face of mock interest and rested his chin on his hand propped up by an elbow.
“God, you are such an idiot, Ivan!”
Brynne laughed and made a comment about how determined I’d been to get her out on a date with me. “He was very persistent, Ivan. Ethan never gave up on me, and I finally went out on that date.” She took a sip of wine and winked at me. “The two of you are so very different. Have you always been this close?” Brynne asked.
“Yes.” We both answered her at the same time. Ivan met eyes with me and we had that communication for an instant, but then turned it off just as quickly in the next instant. That conversation was for another time. This was social.
“Close to killing him!” I smirked at Brynne. “No, seriously, I keep him alive and tolerate his many annoyances, and Ivan is dutifully grateful, isn’t that right, Ivan?”
“I suppose…it’s better than wanting me dead,” he answered.
Brynne laughed. “Who wants you dead, Ivan?”
“Lot’s of people!” Ivan and I spoke again at the same time.
We both laughed at a bemused Brynne and then the waiter showed up to do his thing, so it was few minutes before I was able to explain about my very eclectic cousin.
“Hmmmm, where to start?” I paused for effect. “Our mothers were sisters and we’ve been around each other since…forever. Without the blood connection I doubt we’d ever have met though. Ivan is aristocracy, you know. In heredity and in the eyes of the World Archery Federation.” Ivan scowled at me. “Brynne, you are looking at Lord Rothvale, thirteenth Baron or some rot, or Lord Ivan as he’s called among his sporting compatriots.” I gestured with a flourish. “In the flesh.”
It was Brynne’s turn to look shocked. “Rothvale…as in the gallery where I conserve paintings?”
“Well yeah. That’s my great, great, great grandfather it’s named for, but I have no connection to the Rothvale Gallery,” Ivan said.
“But you do at the National,” I reminded him.
Brynne looked at me incredulous and then back to Ivan. “You are on the board of directors at the National Gallery, Ivan?”
He blew out a huge sigh. “Well yes, my dear, but not by choice. I’ve inherited the appointment and can’t seem to get rid of it. My knowledge is pretty weak I am afraid. Not like you, an expert at restoring paintings E tells me.”
“I love what I do. I’m working on the most lovely Mallerton right now.” Brynne looked at me and reached for my hand. “Ethan helped me solve a mystery of the title of the book the woman in the painting was holding.”