Rogue Beast (The Rourkes #12) - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,38

He knocks on his head.

“That’s just because of the high testosterone levels with so many men,” Josie says with a laugh. “It’s all evening out now that more women have joined the family.”

“I’m thrilled you did,” Sean says, giving her a kiss.

I sigh. I’ve seen Sean and Josie together these last five weeks at work, and they seem so perfect together. Always laughing, talking, and being affectionate with each other. I envy her the easy confidence and trust she has in Sean. They met before she was famous, and she knows he loves her for her, not for what he can get from her. I guess if I married my boyfriend from when I was fourteen—Levi did a fine job escorting me to the eighth-grade dance while following all the rules General Joan laid out—I could have the same. Ha. Funny but not. I don’t wish away my success, but it would be nice to be able to trust in a guy like that, knowing we had something real.

I’m pulled from my angsty thoughts by Josie’s unexpected question. “Harp, you want to do our song after dinner is served? This crowd would appreciate it.”

I freeze. Josie and I both like musicals—her voice is like a dream—and sometimes we sing “For Good” from Wicked, a beautiful song between sisters. But that’s just when we’re hanging in one of our trailers. I need to prepare for a performance. And my voice can’t come close to hers. There’s a reason I never auditioned for the New York theater scene. I love musicals, but I know I’m not at the top tier of professional singers.

“Harp?” Josie asks, waving a hand in front of my face.

“Maybe just you,” I say. “Your voice is so beautiful.”

She cocks her head. “But it’s a duet. And you sound good too. It’ll be fun.”

I lick my dry lips. “No, thanks.”

“Come on, you’ll be great,” Josie coaxes.

Garrett pipes up, “My friend here is a hard no on the after-dinner show tunes.”

I turn to him, surprised he spoke on my behalf. His hand goes to my throat, his smoldering gaze sending a rush of heat from my throat all the way to my toes. “Terrible case of laryngitis.”

I’m so enthralled I’m speechless, gazing into his eyes.

He drops his hand. I swallow and stare at the table, shaken by how much I want him. I didn’t know how much until he touched me. What could’ve felt like a vulnerable position—his hand at my throat—turned me on. No warning sign of danger flashed through me. Only raw lust.

“Smoking heat stole your voice,” Josie quips. “Got it. Carry on!”

Dinner arrives, and I belatedly put my napkin in my lap in a daze.

Garrett’s voice rumbles in my ear, sending tingles down my spine. “Okay there, lamb chop?”

I nod woodenly, not willing to risk another look at the enticing man.

“She means well,” he whispers.

I turn, and we’re so close I see his eyes dilate. My voice comes out breathy. “I know.”

“I mean well too. Just so you know.”

My gaze drops to his sensual lips, a longing to get closer drawing me in.

“Would you mind passing the butter?” Wyatt asks.

Garrett straightens and passes it to him. Moment over. Was I about to kiss him at a table full of people? I know better than to add to the gossip about me and the secret prince of Brooklyn. What happened to all my good defenses? My gut check? The warning signs fizzled in the rush of lust.

I’m in trouble.

10

Harper

At the end of the night, Garrett walks me out. It’s just the two of us with Joe trailing a few feet behind. We stayed for a while, talking to Sean and Josie, so we’re one of the last to leave. The museum is quiet and nearly empty.

“This place reminds me of Amalie Palace,” he says. That’s his family’s palace in Villroy. I may have looked into the royal stuff.

“Do you visit often?”

“Not a lot. The reconciliation between our families is pretty recent. I’ve been there for two weddings and the last two Christmases. They have a Regency-themed Christmas ball. You probably would like it. Kinda like a historical movie set.”

Sign me up! I would love to visit a palace and go to a ball. “Do they regularly hold themed balls there?”

“I dunno. They do for Christmas. It’s because of my cousin’s wife Alice. She’s a Regency romance author.”

I suck in air. “Alice Segal?”

“Yeah.” He shakes his head, his lips twisting into a wry smile. “She even gave us a