His auburn hair was slicked back, his eyes a pair of smoky ambers. Most important of all: the man I’d loved in secret since the first day I’d laid eyes on him. The ointment slipped between my fingers.Ĭillian “Kill” Fitzpatrick stood at the door.Ī stonehearted heir with a face sculpted from marble.Īttainable as the moon, and just as cold and wavering. My jaw slacked as the rest of my words shriveled back into my throat. “Five minutes, Belle.” My eyes were still glued to my blemished arms. I scrubbed the lotion on my skin, pleased with my drunken self, when the door behind me flung open.

“ Bingo.” I tugged a skin-soothing ointment tube from the diamond-studded Hermès. She was a Girl Scout, ready for any occasion, be it a rash, a broken nail, a World War, or a sudden pandemic. She must have Benadryl and antihistamines. I rummaged through it, flicking away Band-Aids, a Swiss knife, and a thumb-size makeup kit. Mentally snapping my fingers, I looked around for Aisling “Ash” Fitzpatrick’s purse, finding it on the bed. I heard my sister’s heels clicking as she left, heading back to the waiting limo. My stomach clenched at the mention of his name. Can you bring Hunter’s ring if his brother doesn’t show up to take it? Technically, it’s Cillian’s job, but he’s probably in the gardens, skinning a female employee and making fashionable coats out of her flesh.” Hopefully not in her hairdo.” I heard the grin in my sister’s voice. “How do you mean?” I shouted back through the suite’s door. Our girl has already puked in the limo’s trash can twice, cursed the groom like a pirate for not eloping in Vegas, and one of her acrylic nails is playing Amelia Earhart.” Well, Belle, I look shockingly similar to a Cheetos, both in color and complexion. “Pers?” my older sister, Emmabelle-Belle for short-crooned from the other side.

A knock on the door snapped me out of my trance.

The villain shen