“Whatever scheme is running through your head is wrong,” Oliver reminded through clenched teeth. “She’s engaged.”
The truth sat on the tip of his tongue, but Callum couldn’t risk telling his brothers. If he did and Oliver crooked a finger in her direction, would she choose his eldest brother? Would she prefer Rory’s intelligence? Or would she actually saddle herself with a past-his-prime bloke who’d only ever been really good at kicking a ball into a net?
Callum didn’t like his odds.
“I’ll handle that, too.” He walked out, his good mood gone.
He might be a bastard, but she was the prize. And he intended to win.
CHAPTER THREE
Tori stared down at the grand ballroom and wondered if she was doing the right thing. Not about the fundraiser. The event itself seemed to be a very elegant success. The money was rolling in. As an added bonus, the Thurston-Hughes brothers all looked lip-bitingly hot in their tuxedos.
What she really wondered was whether she should have given in so easily and agreed to stay in London. Seeing the three brothers every day made it far too likely she’d keep fantasizing they were her men. What if, one day, imagining herself surrounded and beloved by them was no longer enough?
She winced. She should probably quit before she did something stupid she couldn’t take back, something that would leave her with a shattered professional reputation and a broken heart. If she’d been smarter—if she could have managed to want the three of them less—she could have used that dumb fight yesterday as the excuse to hand them over to another publicist. If she’d pushed a little harder, they would have given in. If she’d cried about how much she missed her fiancé, Oliver would have bought her plane ticket himself.
Instead, a wave of relief had overtaken her when she realized they had no intention of letting her leave. She was trapped here by that contract she really should have paid more attention to. Yep, she was a glutton for punishment.
From the balcony above, Tori swept her gaze around the ballroom and saw her sister in Talib’s arms on the dance floor. A wistful feeling overtook her as she watched them waltz in perfect time. Her sister’s beauty and happiness was an almost palpable thing. Who could have guessed how well her seemingly ill-fated business trip to Bezakistan would turn out?
“Hello, little sister,” a deep voice said. “You look lovely tonight.”
She smiled at her brother-in-law. Rafiq al Mussad was a gorgeous man with pitch-black hair and eyes a girl could get lost in. She held out her hands in greeting. “And you look dashing as always, brother.”
Tori loved having family again. For so long, she and Piper had struggled to make it on their own, and now she had all these amazing men to count as brothers.
Rafe took her hands in his and shook his head. “Do you have a guard? I don’t like the idea of you running about London in that dress. Piper saw it on the runway two weeks ago, and I feared if she wore it that she would start a riot.”
Tori laughed and gave Rafe’s hands a squeeze before turning back to the ball. “I don’t think I’ll be starting any riots, but the fundraiser seems to be doing well. I can’t thank you enough for the generous contribution.”
“We do what we can.” He settled in beside her. “I’ve been thinking.”
“That is a dangerous thing.” Tori was only half-teasing. Rafe thinking usually meant some plan to move her into the palace where he could keep his whole family under the watchful eye of the royal guard. Talib and Kadir would naturally concur.
“The world is a dangerous place. I think you should come back to work for us.”
She sighed. “The royal family doesn’t need my services. You’re not bad boys. You’re all family men and model royals.”
“Sabir and Michael are complete hooligans.”
She laughed. “I’m sure my nephews get terrible press because they don’t pick up their toys or poop when you want them to. Call me when they’re teens. Then you might need my services.”
Rafe leaned against the banister, studying her like she was a problem he must solve. “I worry about you. So does Piper. From a security perspective, you’re the weak link in our chain. Some radical factions out there would love to strike at Talib and would think nothing of hurting his family. Piper and the children are surrounded by tight security at all times. But you’re living here in London with no one to watch over you.”
“The building I live in has security.” Though lately, she’d had the oddest feeling someone was watching her.
“Rented guards who don’t make enough to truly put their lives on the line for you.” Rafe rolled his eyes. “We’d prefer you at the palace, but at least allow Dane to assign you a competent security detail while you’re in London.”
The idea horrified her. The one thing she couldn’t stand about palace life was the lack of privacy. She loved her family. She adored spending holidays and vacations in Bezakistan with Piper and Alea and their husbands and kids, but sometimes she felt as if she couldn’t breathe there. She wasn’t allowed to leave the palace without a guard. Even when she walked around the gardens, someone was watching to make sure nothing dangerous occurred. Tori knew the guards watched her for security purposes, not to spy, but she couldn’t live that life.
“No, Rafe. I have to be able to go where I want, when I want. I need to make my own way. I love London and I love my freedom. I can’t enjoy either in Bezakistan or with your rent-a-cops breathing down my neck.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “Is that truly your objection? I’m thinking it is more likely that a man keeps you in London. Or several.”
She pretended to misunderstand. “I’m not being kept. Didn’t that whole antiquated mistress ritual die out decades ago? I work a challenging PR job for every dime I make.”
Rafe waved a conciliatory hand. “I don’t mean to insult you, sister. Forgive me for wanting to protect you, but I must say that the Thurston-Hughes brothers are trouble. I dislike the way they watch you. I’ve looked into them, and I don’t think they’re worthy of you.”