9

Lily woke to an empty bed that morning.

The sheets still held Damien’s scent, and the deeper musk of sex that clung to her skin. She stretched feeling the deep, satisfying ache between her thighs. Every movement of her legs reminded her of how thoroughly he had taken her the night before. Stretching her and keeping her full of him, until she drifted off with his hand still cupping her cunt like he owned it.

A small, private smile curved her lips.

She slipped out of bed, and padded to the bathroom. The hot water of the shower cascaded over her shoulders, washing away the dried evidence of the night while the soreness pulsed as a reminder of what she and Damien shared. She stood under the spray, fingers drifting between her legs just to feel the tenderness, then forced herself to stop.

When she stepped back into the bedroom wrapped in a towel, she looked around for a dressing gown that she could wear to the guest room for her clothes.

But instead, on the armchair near the window lay a neatly folded set of soft loungewear (dark gray leggings and an oversized cream sweater that looked expensive and lived in). Damien must have pulled it from somewhere in the house and laid it out for her. The simple thoughtfulness of the gesture made something tender flutter in her stomach. She smiled at the unspoken fondness.

She dressed slowly, the soft fabric sliding over her still sensitive skin. The sweater smelled faintly of vanilla and something floral. She hugged her arms around herself for a second, then forced her hands down and left the room.

As she reached the top of the stairs she caught the unmistakable scent of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Her stomach growled so loudly. She hadn’t eaten properly since the leftovers the night before, and the night itself had burned through every calorie.

Damien and Dax could barely heat leftovers without setting something on fire. So a private chef must have come around today. She felt relieved. At least she wouldn’t have to pretend to enjoy Dax’s burnt toast.

She rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead.

At a stove, a woman stood flipping pancakes with one hand, while checking the bacon with the other. She was efficient and graceful. Pretty in a polished, grown woman way. She was probably around forty to forty-five, with dark hair pulled into a low ponytail. She wore a simple blouse and jeans.

But that’s not what stopped her. It was the fact that Damien stood behind her, his chest pressed to her back, one arm loosely around her waist while he pressed slow, open mouthed kisses to the side of her neck.

The woman giggled a light, girlish sound, then swatted at him with a spatula. “Stop it, you menace. You will make me burn the pancakes.”

Damien only hummed against her skin and stole another kiss, eyes half lidded. He was the picture of lazy contentment. He reached around her for a piece of cooked sausage and took a bite, still pressed against her.

On the island sat Dax and Liam, looking like hell. Their eyes were red rimmed, their hair messy. The unmistakable greenish cast of a brutal hangover coated their skin. A glass of tomato juice sat in front of each of them, along with dry toast they were forcing down under the woman’s watchful eye.

Lily’s feet rooted to the floor.

She had never seen this woman before in her life. Not once. Not even in passing. Who was she? A sharp feeling started in her stomach and climbed fast, lodging in her throat like a fist. She couldn’t swallow past it.

Dax noticed her first. He blinked blearily and managed a crooked smile. “Hi, babe.”

Liam lifted a hand without much energy. “Hey, sis.”

Damien stiffened the second he registered her presence. The arm around the woman’s waist dropped. He stepped back a full pace, putting distance between them.

The kitchen suddenly felt small.

The woman turned, and her face lit up with genuine warmth. “You must be the niece. Lily, is it?”

She crossed the kitchen in a few confident strides and pulled Lily into a friendly hug that smelled of vanilla and something floral. Lily stood rigid inside the embrace, arms hanging useless at her sides.

Damien cleared his throat. “Lily, this is Edna. Edna, Lily.”

From the island, Dax’s voice came matter of fact. “Edna’s Dad’s girlfriend.”

The words felt like a punch to the stomach.