Page 20 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

“Same.” She straightened. “Let’s put on a good show.”

This time, I let the smile go free. I glanced down and Aria’s pretty brown eyes were waiting. They were flecked with honey and sangria. The reds and yellows were so slight, they swirled into the iris, mixing with the chocolate to give it fire. Aria’s fire.

Did Clara have eyes like that? If she did, I hadn’t noticed. Why hadn’t I noticed? We’d spent more time together than I had with anyone else in a decade.

After only hours in Aria’s company, I’d picked up details that I shouldn’t have noticed. Like the pout of her lower lip. The delicate lobes of her ears. And now the mesmerizing color in her eyes.

It unnerved me more than seeing Heather and Alastair after all these years.

Aria gave me a small smile, but as we took another step, it changed. Twisted. The fire in her gaze sparked even brighter. The mischievous woman whose words cut like a samurai sword was ready for the show.

Her hand let go of my arm to slide down the sleeve of my tux jacket. Aria laced her fingers with mine as her other hand snaked up my chest. She inched so close that her scent, floral and sweet, filled my nose.

That intoxicating smell scrambled my brain and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the curls in her shiny hair. I wanted to twist them around my fingers, then take the strands in my fist and—

What. The. Fuck.

This was Aria. A woman who openly admitted she hated me the way I hated her. An enemy. My assistant’s sister.

There’d be no fisting of her hair. No licking of her lips. No nibbling of her ears.

I tore my eyes away and looked up as we took the final step, just in time to see a different head of dark hair. Heather’s hair was as rich and glossy as money could buy. Yet it dulled in comparison to Aria’s.

Heather’s smile tightened. “Brody.”

“Heather.” I nodded. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Her gaze darted to Aria, who pressed deeper, almost indecently, into my side. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“This is Aria Saint-James,” I said, not bothering with a bogus label. Girlfriend. Lover. Date. None were accurate and none mattered.

“Congratulations.” Aria smiled at Heather, then at Alastair.

“Brody,” Alastair greeted with a smug grin. It probably would have been worse had Aria not been on my arm.

My brother was a vain man. He always had his eyes set on whatever shiny toy I had in hand. Whatever I had, he wanted.

Probably why he’d seduced Heather. I highly doubted this was a love match.

“Congratulations.” I reached out to shake his hand.

“We missed you at the ceremony.” The asshole knew I hadn’t been invited.

“That’s my fault,” Aria said before I could speak. “Brody is irresistible in a tux. It took me a moment to put myself back to rights and by the time we made it here, well . . . we really tried to make it on time.”

The color drained from Heather’s face and that grin of Alastair’s faltered.

I bit back a laugh. God, Aria was something. Fearless. Bold. Unpredictable. Qualities that usually pissed me the fuck off, but tonight, she was on my side. And she was here to put on one hell of a show.

I’d play along.

Bending, I dipped close to her neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin with my nose as I dragged in a heady breath.

She giggled and swatted me away. “Brody, behave.”

“With you? Never.” I pulled myself away, something that took more effort than it should have, and I faced my brother again. “We’re holding up the line. Again,

congrats.”