fact, since you’re here early, I insist you both stay the night. I have plenty of room and practice is done for the day, so I’m not going out.”
“I can—”
“Stay here? Wonderful.” Louis’ smile was one that told Dorian he had expected to have his wishes met.
They were escorted inside the cool house, and he was grateful to be out of the heat. There was a reason he lived in the north. He preferred the cold to heat. The winters where they were snowed in, he reveled in. After all his time in the desert, he’d come to hate heat and sand. The purity of snow made him smile.
“Mr. West?”
He snapped back to the conversation at hand. “I’m sorry. Please call me Dorian.”
Louis nodded. “Can I have May get you anything to drink? Water, tea, lemonade, beer or, hell, something stronger, if you’d like.”
Beer was something he wanted, but it wasn’t time. “Tea or lemonade is fine.”
May smiled and slipped away. Louis clapped his hands together and hugged his sister, again.
“We’ll grill out tonight in celebration of you being home. I’d love to know what you’ve been doing for the past two years.”
Even Dorian picked up on the admonishment in his tone. Sakharre merely shrugged and led the way to a living room where she sat on a leather love seat. Dorian took a recliner where he could see both her and Louis. Their drinks were brought swiftly, and he took a grateful sip of the lemonade.
“The grill is heating up so we’ll be grilling soon.” Louis leaned back on his couch. “Tell me.”
αβ
Louis loved his sister—that much was obvious. At the end of dinner, they continued to sit outside, the night having cooled off a bit. Dorian was full of perfectly done steak and sides. Louis manned the grill himself and did a damn good job.
He’d been silent most of the meal while Louis talked to Sakharre. He’d learned a bit more about her over the course of their dinner. May had brought them some chocolate dessert, also amazing.
“I think I’ll go lay down,” Sakharre said, rising to her feet. She kissed Louis on the cheek and nodded in Dorian’s direction. “Mr. West.”
It grated on his nerves that that was how she addressed him. Hell, they knew one another on a personal, intimate level, and she couldn’t use his first name. She sure as hell could scream it to the room. Biting back his response, he replied, “Sakharre.”
She went inside and Dorian reached for his glass and drank more lemonade.
“What the hell happened while you were on your way back here?”
All of Dorian’s protective instincts went into full alert. This tone wasn’t the gentle one the sister got. This was all alpha male who made his living beating up others.
“We ran into a bit of trouble.”
“As in?”
“She was kidnapped by some human traffickers.”
“Why wasn’t I told about that?” Louis flattened the beer can in his hand with the ease of popping a zit.
“We’d resolved the situation and didn’t feel it necessary to divulge to you. No point in worrying you more.”
“This is my sister we’re discussing. Not some stranger off the street.”
Dorian leaned forward. “We know. And she is safe. Was safe. Now, she’s here, and Mr. Dare will have a detail for her tomorrow.”
“What was she doing when you found her?” Louis cracked his neck.
“Working as a bartender and a very good one.”
He sighed heavily. “At least she wasn’t stripping.” He rose and began pacing. “You know her mother was a stripper. Even when she came to be with my father, she couldn’t let it go. She craved the attention it gave her. Loved all the men looking at her. I’d hoped that she wouldn’t follow in her mother’s steps, but I was worried. I mean, she’s not got the body for it, but she’d probably be able to work in a lower-end place.”
Dorian narrowed his gaze. “How could you talk about your sister like that?” Lord, he wanted to punch him in the face.
“She’s not exactly built like a
Abbie Zanders
Mike Parker
Dara Girard
Isabel Cooper
Kim Noble
Frederic Lindsay
Carolyn Keene
Stephen Harrigan
J.P. Grider
Robert Bard