THE WRONG BROTHER

Charlotte "Did you hear the news?" Kevin's mother asks from across the table, mouth pressed into a thin, disapproving line. "What news?" He asked, mouth full of food. I can't believe he has the guts to ask me to not embarrass him. The hypocrisy. But I guess when you're born with a silver spoon in your mouth and as the heir to a multimillion empire, nothing you do can ever be wrong. "Rhys Van Allen is back. He's in new York at the moment in fact." All conversation halts at the table at her announcement. I can hear shocked whispers all around us. My brows furrow in confusion at the reaction. Even Kevin looks worried and I've never seen my husband look worried about anything. "What is he doing here?" He snaps. "I thought when he left we'd never have to see him again." "I heard he was on an exile from the country." His sister adds, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "Legitimate sources spotted him yesterday at the airport." Mrs. Anders says. Kevin bangs his fist down

Charlotte The banging on the door jerks me out of my sleep. I shoot up in bed, blinking at my strange surroundings. Where the hell am I? "Who the hell is that?" A man's deep voice growls beside me. I jolt in the bed, head snapping to the side to stare at the gorgeous man in surprise. The memories of last night come filtering in slowly. The divorce, heading out to the club and going after my ex husbands's step brother. The man rises to his feet, and my mouth goes dry. Last night, things had been a little murky, but in the clear light of day, I have to admit that the man is built like a viking. Tall, muscled, and large... everywhere. Dear God. He grabs his pants slung over the bedside lamp and drags them on, then marches out to go see who's at the door. As soon as he's gone, I scramble out of bed, flying into the bathroom to see how much damage he had done. I look like someone who's just had a wonderful night. But then again, five orgasms in a row would do that to anyone. Grinn

Charlotte "Finally awake," a deep voice murmurs, low and teasing. I blink, groaning as the white lights of the hospital stab my vision. The smell of antiseptic hits me, sharp and sterile, making my stomach twist. "Rhys..." My voice is a hoarse rasp, barely a whisper. "You're here?" "Of course I'm here," he says, stepping closer, eyes dark, unwavering. Would you rather I send flowers?" I manage a weak smirk despite the slight pain in my ribs. "Hard pass. I like this better." "Mom... is she okay?" My voice trembles. "She's fine. She's awake and stable. That's why I made sure you were checked immediately after the accident. " Rhys says. I let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through me. "I just... I was supposed to see her." My hands clutch at the sheets. "I didn't even get a chance to..."Before I can finish, a sharp knock hits the door. Two officers step in. Rhys' hand subtly brushes mine, a silent warning to let him lead. The older one, stern face, flashes a badge.

Charlotte "Charlotte," he says, his voice too low. "You're shaking."I laugh, short and sharp. "I'm not shaking. I'm thinking.""About what?" he asks, taking one step closer."About how this is a terrible idea," I say, even as I don't move away. "You being here, US, whatever this is."He studies me like he is trying to read between my words. "You don't want me to leave.""I didn't say that.""You didn't have to." His tone softens, almost teasing. "You just looked at me like you would rather fight me than watch me walk out."That gets under my skin. I cross my arms, forcing calm into my voice. "You're imagining things.""Maybe." He smiles faintly. "But imagination is dangerous, isn't it?"For a while, silence stretches between us. Outside, traffic hums, the city moves, but in here, everything slows.I take a breath. "We have work to do, Rhys. Remember the plan? Kevin? Headlines?"He nods, still watching me. "Right. The plan. Which part? The part where you pretend you don't care or the

Charlotte “Come on,” Rhys says quietly, his voice low. “Let’s go back to sleep.” It’s not really a question, and I don’t bother answering. I just follow him. When we reach the bedroom, he drops onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard with a tired sigh. The top buttons of his shirt undone, his hair slightly out of place, the kind of undone that makes him look less like the Rhys everyone else sees and more like the one I shouldn’t want this much. “You look tense,” I murmur, crawling up beside him. He gives a faint smile. “Long day.” “Turn around.” He raises a brow but does as I say, settling in front of me. I slide behind him, knees brushing his sides, and rest my hands on his shoulders. He assists me in pulling off his shirt. I massage his shoulders and his neck and his back and his arms. When I’m finished, I roll off to him and lie down beside him. I’m running my fingers through his hair and massaging his scalp when he opens his eyes. “Char?” He whispers, looking at me