Sinful Ever After - Vivian Wood Page 0,19

door. She is wearing pants and a tied up pink tee shirt that shows an inch of creamy bare skin above her waistline.

She’s heart stopping, even this early in the morning. For some reason that makes me frown.

“Carter, I—” She sees me and pauses, her cheeks going pink. “Aiden! You’re here. Have you two met?”

“We have,” Carter replies evenly. He moves a little closer, which makes Olivia turn faintly red. “I suppose I don’t have to introduce you?”

Olivia licks her lips as looks at me, her blue eyes shining. “No. I’ve known Aiden since we were kids.”

Carter smiles blandly. “How nice.”

Olivia shrugs a shoulder. “At least I’m not staying in the servants’ quarters with a total stranger. What’s more, Aiden is going to help me move those huge stacks of papers and books around in the library.”

I raise a brow. This is news to me.

Carter doesn’t skip a beat, though. He leans closer to Olivia and intones, “Are you sure you don’t want my help instead?”

I grit my teeth, my fists clenching. That sounds like a line I would use on her, if Olivia weren’t absolutely off limits. Somehow the thought that Carter is allowed to hit on her if he wants to doesn’t register for me at that moment.

I can feel a growl gathering in my throat. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

Carter scoffs. “Like what? Like a pretty girl that I’d like to know better?”

Olivia flushes again, her blue eyes wide as she looks between us. “I... I think I should go inside. I’ll be in the library whenever you two finish… whatever this is.”

Ducking her head, she slips away, disappearing back into the house.

That leaves Carter and me standing outside, frowning at each other with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t know if I like you,” Carter says calmly.

“And I don’t like the way you talk to Olivia,” I spit back.

He cocks his head. “Is she spoken for?”

I snort. “It’s 2019, dude. Get enlightened. A woman doesn’t need to have a boyfriend in order to not be harassed.”

Carter takes a second to process that. He seems a little disbelieving. Fair enough, as they aren’t my words; I’m just repeating what an angry girl in a bar said to me about her drunk friend a couple months back.

He settles for avoiding another argument. “I should go.” He looks out across the yard. “And it looks like you have a ton of stuff to do here…”

No shit. I lift my chin and stalk to the front door, my mind whirring. If Carter is indeed my brother, that meeting could have gone better. Then again, when was the last time that I met and got along with another guy?

“I’ll have my eye on you,” Carter says, just as I’m almost through the door.

I freeze for a second, my temper flaring briefly. It is basically taking everything in me to just let that comment slide. I’m here for a reason, not that he knows that. My fists clench tightly and my heart rate speeds up.

I’m practically spoiling for a fight. But I’m not ready to pick one with a guy that could be my blood.

Not yet.

I lumber inside the house, shutting the door hard on Carter. I stop and sip my coffee, looking around.

“Aiden?” Olivia calls.

I move toward the sound of her voice, skirting the large staircase and heading toward the right. She pokes her head out of a doorway a little down the hallway. She looks relieved as I walk toward her.

“There you are. Margaret has already gone to town on an errand this morning, but she agreed to lend you to me today.” Her head disappears as I get closer. I’ve never been further than the front sitting room, so when I see the library it is a complete surprise.

The ceilings are two stories high and vaulted, daylight pouring in the room from several skylights. The walls are lined with books; before me are piles of books and papers reaching up half the wall. It looks a little like something out of “Hoarders”.

I cough at some of the dust that’s in the room. “Jesus.”

Olivia doesn’t look daunted or put off by the clutter. In fact, she looks excited by the prospect of it. She pulls her hair into a high ponytail, her arms lifting to show off that section of toned midriff again.

My fingers itch with the need to reach out and trail them across the exposed skin.

Ripping my eyes away, I scold myself. I know better than to look at Olivia