“A coward who killed my father.”

“Maybe there’s another way of getting justice.” She squeezed his hand. “Just … let’s work on that. Maybe there’s another way. Promise? For me. Do this for me.”

It was a long, long while before he answered. But when he finally did, it seemed like a vow. “All right. I hate it … but all right.”

Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around him and felt him hold her in return. “I love you.”

“Oh, God, Paradise … I love you, too.”

They stayed that way for the longest time, embracing each other, saying small things, touching, feeling, kissing.

And then there was a knock on the door.

Yeah, boy, Craeg moved so fast off her bed, he practically slammed into the wall that was farthest away.

She laughed a little. “Yes?”

“It’s Butch,” came the deep voice. “I’m leaving now. Craeg, you gotta come with me.”

“Okay,” Craeg said, heading for the door.

“When will I see you?” Paradise asked. “Tomorrow night’s class is canceled also?”

He put his hand on the knob and looked over at her with hooded eyes. “Answer your phone at seven a.m. and we’ll discuss it.”

With that and a very hot wink, he slipped out and shut the panels quietly.

As Paradise let herself fall back against her pillows, she was grinning so hard her cheeks hurt.

Chapter Forty-seven

One week later …

“Wait, so where does the cumberbatch go?”

As Craeg stood in front of a full-length mirror in the Pit, he was in a panic until Butch stepped in behind him. Naturally, the Brother smiled at him like he was an idiot. Which he was.

“It’s cummerbund.” Butch took the banding and put it around Craeg’s waist. “Damn, son, you’re gonna look tight.”

“How much did this thing cost?”

“Fifteen thousand.” There was some fussing and tugging as things were done up at the small of his back. “And the good news is that you and I are the same kind of stocky, so it fits you like a glove.”

Craeg blinked a couple of times. “Fifteen thousand? Dollars?”

“No, Pop-Tarts,” Vishous said from over on the bed. “And if that makes your nuts shrink, multiply it times all the shit on those hangers over there.”

Craeg glanced at the racks of clothes in the otherwise neat and tidy bedroom. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah, Saks loves him.” V lit up another hand-rolled. “And Neiman Marcus.”

“Fuck you, V.” Butch leaned to the side and picked up a black jacket with long black tails. “Guys like Craeg and me, we have to put on some window dressing for our ladies. That’s how we roll.”

Personally, Craeg would rather have been in his jeans. But he had to admit the starched white shirt with its fancy white knot at the throat and the bright red suspenders and the black slacks with the satin stripes down the outsides was not a bad look.

And then he put the jacket on.

Staring at his reflection, he brushed his newly cut hair back and then shook the stuff out. “I look…”

“Like fifteen million bucks.” Butch clapped him on the shoulder. “Now get the fuck out of here so I can get dressed, too. The misanthrope over there is staying home because he’s too good for this shit, but you and I are gonna have a great fucking time.”

V grunted and got off the bed. “Call me if you don’t, though. I’m always good for a fistfight, and I like hitting pretty boys.”

“You’re just bitter you don’t have a tux.”

Vishous paused in the doorway and looked back at Craeg. Nodding once, he said, “The a-hole is right. You look good. She’s going to be proud to be on your arm. Don’t let any of those fucking morons make you feel second-class—she could pick anyone in the world, and she chose you. Also, don’t offer anyone your hand first. It’ll give them a chance to snub you. You let them greet you, not the other way around, ’kay?”

“Thanks,” Craeg said roughly.

V nodded, and went to stalk down the shallow hall, adding, “I’m going to go sucker punch Lassiter. Then probably play some pool with him.”

“Have fun, honey,” Butch called out. Then he refocused on Craeg in the mirror. “Let me let you down into the tunnel. Wait for me in the parking garage. I’ll drive you out.”

“Okay. Hey … thanks.”

God, that sounded so fucking lame.

Butch smiled, showing off a front tooth that was a little wonky. “I mated up, too. I know what it’s like to be with a female who’s—”

At that moment, Marissa stepped out of the second bedroom and …

Craeg recoiled. The dress … the diamonds … the dress …

The fucking diamonds.

The female literally sparkled white from head to foot, a blinding show of beauty and elegance in her formfitting gown.

Doc Jane jumped out into the hall. “So! How’d we do? Huh? How’d we do?”

Craeg looked over his shoulder at Butch … who was standing there dumb as an ox, looking like he’d seen the second coming of the Scribe Virgin Herself.

“Let yourself out, kid,” the Brother said in a guttural voice. “Like now. I’ll be there in ten minutes—no, wait … twenty.”

As Marissa smiled at Craeg and told him he was handsome, she marveled how one could be fully clothed and completely undressed at the same time.

Then again, with the way Butch was staring at her, she was very clear on what he was thinking about.

“Come on, Craeg, I’ll take you into the tunnel,” Doc Jane said. “And have fun, you two.”

“Go, go, go, go,” Butch muttered to V’s mate. “Before you see way more than you’re gonna want to.”

As the pair left and the door into the tunnel clicked shut and relocked, Marissa did a slow turn in front of her mate. “You like?”

Butch’s reply was to fall to his knees. Like, really … fall to his knees so hard she wasn’t sure whether the cracking was because he’d broken his bones or the floorboards.

Gathering up the skirt of her Reem Acra gown, she hustled over to him. “Are you all—”

He captured her shoulders in his hands, his hazel eyes roaming over her face. “I want to kiss you, but I don’t want to ruin your makeup.”

“So kiss me carefully.”

And he did, brushing her mouth with a gentle stroke. “You take my breath away, Marissa. You’re going to take everyone’s breath away.”

She smoothed his hair. “We’ll see about that.”

“Yes, we will.”

Marissa grew serious. “Havers isn’t coming tonight. It kind of surprised me. He was the one who nominated me to be head of this thing.”

“Maybe it’s his way of putting out an olive branch. Allowing you to shine without the complication of a lot of gossip.”

“Yes.” She thought of her brother by the bedside of the female who had been killed. “It’s almost easier to demonize him.”

“You know, when it comes to Havers, if you can forgive him … well, I’ll never forget what he did to you, but I won’t kill him if I see him. How’s that?”

She laughed. “Deal. And I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to see what the future holds.”

“I know one thing that’s coming,” he drawled, eyes going hooded.

“And what might that be.”

Her mate rose from the floor and circled her waist with his warm hands. Leaning down, he whispered, “I’m going to be the one helping you out of this dress later.”

Laughing, she put her arms around his neck and arched into him. “Does that mean I get to take your pants off at the end of the night?”

“Oh, God…” he groaned. “Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees …”

Chapter Forty-eight

As Paradise descended the grand staircase of her home, she held up the flowing skirt of her pale blue gown. With each step she took, she thought of the night one week before, when she had come down to find Anslam there on the marble, waiting for her as if there was nothing out of sorts, nothing wrong, nothing threatening.

For a split second, her mental wires got crossed and a shimmy of adrenaline shot down her spine.