Page 86 of Winter’s Fire

“Uh-oh. Am I going to like this?”

Probably not. Her brothers took the concept of protectiveness to scary lengths—little wonder that she’d been a late starter when it came to dating.

“Don’t assume—you might.” A woman could hope.

Sam’s grunt spoke volumes. “You’ve pulled a stunt like this more than once before, and I never have. Come on then, spit it out.”

Lucy forced a bright smile into place. “You should be happy—I finally decided what I want to do for a career, and now I have the chance to do it.”

She gave him the short version, explaining why she’d wanted the secretary job with Sir Guy, and how it was connected with her decision to volunteer for the mission.

Sam’s reaction lived up to his prediction, rather than her hope. More than lived up to it, in fact, but what Lucy hadn’t counted on was the real fear reflected in his gaze. “Sam?”

“I think we’d better go downstairs. You need to tell the family about this now, sis.”

Her parents and other siblings didn’t take the news about her career change any better than Sam had. However, Lucy wasn’t prepared to back down without a fight and an attempt to win them over to her side.

“You all talk about the good your work does, all over the world—is it so wrong for me to want to do the same? All of you have taught me so much, and I want to use what you’ve taught me to do the right thing too!”

“And you think you’ll do that by getting yourself killed?”

Adam—the oldest, biggest and baddest of her brothers, who could intimidate a rogue elephant when he was in full flow. Lucy took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm. “Of course not. All four of you taught me everything I know, and I’m going to have training to fill in any gaps. The stuff I learned from you… that helped all three of us to survive the traffickers—”

In a split second, a combination of fear and horror froze five of the faces around her. Sam, however, was looking at her with grim resignation, and remained silent when the fear and horror erupted in a barrage of urgent, almost angry questions.

It was Rachel Winter’s quiet voice that cut through all the masculine bluster with laser accuracy.

“Lucy, I think you’d better tell us exactly what’s been going on, and why Samuel looks almost as guilty as you do.”

A pin landing on a bed of feathers would have echoed in the overwhelming silence of expectation that flooded the room.

It was going to be a long evening…

Chapter 23

Lucy cradled the mug of hot chocolate between her palms. Unable to sleep, she’d tossed and turned for hours before coming downstairs to make a hot drink. No sign of even a yawn so far, so she continued to huddle in front of the Aga, basking in its gentle warmth. The chill that had settled in her bones owed little to the early hours of a semi-autumnal morning.

What a car crash of an evening. Even though she’d gone into more detail about the assignment, she still hadn’t told her family the whole story about the true nature of the resort, how she’d come to feel about Logan, or his previous connection with Diana. Sam knew more, of course, but not everything. The omission had led to some strongly worded advice once they were alone to come clean. He’d then joined her other siblings in one of the barns, no doubt for their own council of war. They still hadn’t returned to the house, and Lucy wasn’t entirely convinced they weren’t on their way to London, ready to take a scalp. Or worse.

One thing she hadn’t mentioned—and never would until her dying day—was the whole D/s aspect of what had happened with Logan, and what she’d discovered about herself. She needed to talk to someone, to unburden herself of the full truth about her relationship with Logan. It wasn’t something she could discuss with any of her friends, but maybe she could talk to Sam. Like all her brothers, he was an experienced man of the world, and given the courteous, protective way they were with the women they’d dated, he might understand the D/s thing at least a little.

Or maybe not, given the surgery he’d already threatened to carry out on a certain part of Logan’s anatomy. Besides, she had enough inner conflict going on as it was. Her fighting spirit had taken a leave of absence when she’d walked away from Logan like a whipped puppy, but now it was back and spoiling for a rematch. She wanted to fight for the man, but logic asked a vital question—what would be the point?

Pick your fights, and only fight if you can win. Her brothers had drummed that into her years ago.

First of all, who exactly was the enemy here?

Logan, because he preferred another woman? No one could control whom they were attracted to, she’d said it herself, so many times.

Diana, then. Yes, go on, start a catfight with the woman he loves, and see how far that gets you.

Logic didn’t stop there, either. It also insisted that life wasn’t fair, and she wasn’t a special snowflake. She needed to get over herself and move on. Logan had made his decision—he wanted Diana, and there was nothing Lucy could do about it.

Enough.

She could live without having that stupid ass of a man in her life. If he wanted the witch, let him have her. Lucy’s dream job had been handed to her on a plate, and all she had to do was accept the offer.

And yet, every paradise had its snake, and in this case, it was her memories of Logan, of being with him in the most intimate way a woman could be with a man. Could she really work alongside him after that? It was a whole boiling mess of conflict, and the only way to avoid it was to walk away from her dream.