Page 26 of The Wrong Bride


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My cheeks heated anew. “Kind of perfect, thank you. Definitely good enough to go riding.”

He held my gaze a moment longer before easing forward. His loafers thumped against the tile floor, reminding me of a war drum. “Let’s go.”

Wait. “We’re doing it? We’re going riding?”

“We are not.”

Oh. “Then what are we doing?”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Be in the foyer in ten minutes. Donna make me fetch you, Isobel.” That said, he left as quickly as he’d come.

“Elle,” I called. Oh, how I hated her name on his lips when he referred to me.

At first, I remained in place, my mind whirling. What did he have planned? To oversee my B and E punishment off site? Take me to another party? Perhaps one of those famous clan meetings? Couples counseling?

I knew from experience Callen would do as warned if I failed to comply with his orders. A glance at the clock on myphone told me nine minutes and sixteen seconds remained on the countdown. If I wanted to shed the dirt I’d acquired on the floor of the maze, I needed to clean up now or forever hold my peace.

I trudged to the bathroom, where I brushed my hair and teeth, used the facilities, showered fast, and changed into a too tight blue dress. The only blue garment on the racks. Which was a shock, considering how much Callen adored the color. I strapped on the lowest heels available.

Though Isobel owned a vanity filled with makeup, I went with a minimalistic approach. Mascara, a dusting of blush, and lip gloss. I kept her smattering of freckles on display. She might be the moral equivalent of a bog troll, but those marks were cute.

Thora returned to the room just as I swiped up a purse and loaded it with anything I thought I might need. The cell phone. A handful of rings and bracelets the body snatcher had laying around; pieces I could sell, if an opportunity arose. A notepad, pen, and a pair of tweezers to use as a lockpick or weapon.

I headed out, telling the fluffy beauty, “If your father doesn’t return with me, I expect you to seek hardcore vengeance. Like, bodies in your wake, rivers of blood levels of stuff. That’s what real friends do for each other.”

She yawned, and I almost liquefied at the adorableness.

“Fine. Live a long, happy life in peace and harmony instead,” I told her. “But you had better not forget me. And okay, yeah, I don’t actually think Callen plans to kill and bury me. He’s not terrible most of the time, and he did patch me up. But he has enemies who could target me.” Had the shifters hurt his ex and father? Hmm. That thought had legs.

Another yawn met my words. I better go before Iwhipped out my phone to take photos of her and accidentally ran out the clock.

No guards waited outside the door. As I made my way to the castle’s foyer, several servants loitered here and there, looking me over while exuding a measure of glee. Um, did they know something I didn’t?

Lifting my chin, I descended the steps. Callen stood near the door with Buzz and Ponytail.

“Right on time,” he acknowledged, glancing at his wristwatch. Then his icy blues roved over me—and heated.

My pulse thudded. The way he stared at me. As if seeing me for the first time, and he liked what he saw. Except he wasn’t looking at me, was he? He liked the look ofher.

I ignored the flare of disappointment. “Where are we going?” I asked at his side.

Rather than respond, he cut his attention to Buzz and Ponytail. “We won’t be needing you today.”

Both men bowed their heads and retreated. A tinge of sickness invaded my stomach. No witnesses?

Callen pivoted and waved to the front door. “After you.”

Though nervous, I strode past him without complaint, exiting the castle. The same driver waited near a new car. A fancy red one I’d seen in the garage.

The forest outside the stone wall beckoned. Part of me wanted to kick off my shoes, dash off, scale that wall, and dart into the trees. But then, berserkers were known as the fiercest warriors to ever engage in battle. Just how far could I get? A couple of feet?

“Good morning, Mrs. Bruce,” the driver said, his gaze averted.

“Morning. I’m withholding a descriptor until I’ve had breakfast and I’m clued in about what’s going on.” I eased into the vehicle under my own steam.

My phone buzzed as Callen settled in beside me. I checked the screen and spied my own number. Isobel had unblocked me!

I turned from my companion, hiding the device, and read her text.

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