Evan focused those hypnotic gray eyes on me, obviously considering the comment. “Is that what you are?”
I froze, stunned by the question. Grace had always been the princess to my jester. But now that she was dead, I’d slipped on the mantle even though it was an awkward, uncomfortable fit.
He was watching me—his gaze holding steady on my face as I floundered for a reply, and for a moment I thought that he saw the girl beneath the facade and the family name. I thought that he saw me.
Then he smiled, all casual and false, and the spell was broken. “It’s just that in the stories, the princess is always dragonbait.”
I had no idea how I was supposed to respond to that, and my discomfort made my temper flare—and then explode when Tyler and Cole both guffawed and Evan shot them a cocky I’ve won this round grin.
“Don’t worry about me,” I said coldly. “I won’t ever be dragonbait.”
“No?” He looked me up and down, and it took every ounce of my self-control to stand still as his eyes raked over me. “I guess we’ll see,” he finally said, and then without another word, he turned around and walked away.
I watched him leave, feeling itchy and unsatisfied. I wanted something—something big and wild. Something like the sizzle and pop that Evan’s slow, heated gaze had made bubble up inside me.
Something? Oh, please. How much bullshit was that? I knew exactly what I wanted—or more accurately, I knew who I wanted. And he’d just flat out left, as uninterested in me as I was enraptured by him.
As I bit back a frown, I saw my uncle watching me with an odd expression, and for the first time I feared that he knew my secret: I had more than an innocent schoolgirl crush on Evan Black. And somehow, someway, I was going to do something about it.
I released a long-suffering sigh, my eyes still fixed on the almost-magical image of Evan in his tux. I didn’t know if I was charmingly optimistic or sadly pathetic. All I knew was that despite the years that had passed—and despite the lack of any interest on his part whatsoever—my fascination with Evan Black never waned.
For just a moment, I allowed myself the luxury of a fantasy. His finger crooked under my chin. The gentle pressure as he lifted my face to look into his eyes. His touch would be gentle but firm. His scent masculine and heady. “Angie,” he’d say. “Why the hell haven’t we done this before?”
I’d open my mouth to answer, but he’d cut me off with a kiss, hot and open and so desperately demanding that I would melt against him, our bodies fusing from the electricity zinging through me, all of it focused between my thighs, making me squirm. Making me need.
“And there she is.”
I flinched, yanked from my reverie by the caramel masculine tones. I turned to smile at the two-hundred-plus pounds of perfectly proportioned male that made up Cole August. At first glance, he was intimidating as shit, despite being empirically gorgeous. All muscle and power and hard edges, with the kind of air that warned away anyone who might want to fuck with him. He’d been born and raised on Chicago’s rather scary South Side, and the rawness of his heritage still clung to him despite the tailored suit and other trappings of success.
His mixed-race background had blessed him with creamy dark skin that boasted a golden undertone, and his eyes flashed a deep ebony. It was in those eyes that you really saw the man. Massive and intense and just a bit menacing. But also fiercely loyal.
He held out his arms and I went willingly into them. “How are you holding up there, Dragonbait?”
“Not great.” I sighed, his scent reminding me of Uncle Jahn, a musky male scent that probably came in a bottle but seemed to me to be part and parcel of those men I adored. “I’m glad you’re here. I thought you were out of town.”
“We came back, of course.” By we, I knew he meant himself and Tyler Sharp. “We had to be here for Jahn,” Cole added. He pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. “And for you.”
“Is Tyler hiding in the crowd somewhere?” I didn’t mention that I’d already honed in on Evan.
“He was right behind me. But he was snagged by a limber blonde thing who looked like she wanted to wrap herself around him.”
I had to laugh. Even at a funeral, Tyler was a girl-magnet.
Cole grinned. “Yeah, well, don’t hold it against her. I got the feeling she’s been self-medicating her grief for hours.”
“I know how she feels.”
He looked hard at me, the humor all but erased from his face. “You need anything, you ask.”
I nodded, but stayed silent. The only thing I needed was to let myself go a little wild. To shake off the weight of my grief, cut loose, and get lost in an adrenaline haze. It would work—I knew damn well that was the best way to take the edge off the pain and loss I was feeling. But no matter what, I wasn’t going to go there.
Beside me, Cole called out a greeting to Tyler. I inched away from Cole and watched as the third of Jahn’s knights approached. Where Cole was burly, Tyler was lean and athletic. He had the kind of good looks that could sneak up on a person, and the kind of charm that could make people do whatever Tyler wanted, and be absolutely certain it was their own idea all along.
He reached out for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Tell us what you need.”
“Nothing,” I lied. “Just you two.” I lifted a shoulder. “Really. It’s better just having you guys here.”
“Where’s Evan?” Tyler asked, and though the question was directed at Cole, I turned to look, too. But Evan had disappeared.