Free My Best Friend's Brother (A Bashir Family Romance Book 1) by Unknown

a properly arranged marriage, I’m certain. Our families are very close.”
    I wasn’t sure what he getting at. Beneath the table I clenched my paper napkin tightly so my feelings wouldn’t show on face. Just come on out and say it, Dev.
    “I’m happy for you. Shyra is very pretty.”
    Dev shifted in his chair uneasily. Suddenly he understood.
    “I’m not dating Shyra. We’re just friends.” He paused. “Is that why you stopped talking to me?”
    What could I say now? He hit it square on the nose. To admit to it would be to show him my hand…to admit I was jealous and that I liked him. I decided to retain my poker face.
    “No, of course not.” I forced a smile and then started to clear the table. I brought our plates into the kitchen.
    He followed me in. While I was washing them, I asked him about something that had been on my mind.
    “What happened to Rhett?” Have you seen him since…Thanksgiving?”
    This was the first time either of us had brought up that day. I knew Dev had promised I would never have to think about him, but I still wondered.
    His face tensed up. “Rhett is back at school. His father cleaned up his mess, I suppose. We don’t talk anymore, for obvious reasons.”
    He took a long sip of coffee, that haunted look returned.
    “And do you still hope to get a job with that bank…Franklin Bank?”
    He thought about it for a moment before answering.
    “Gerald Franklin is like a… father to me.” He laughed sardonically as if at some cruel inside joke. “If I wanted a job with him, I’m sure I could get one pretty easily.”
    I turned around to face him.
    “That’s great news. I thought I messed everything up for you.”
    “You’re joking, right? Bringing that monster here—I’ll never forgive myself. If he ever tried to interact with you again, in any manner, I promise I will make him regret it.”
    He spoke as if he cared for me, and it made me want to fall into his arms again, my face against his chest. We looked at each other, the memory of that day shadowing our faces.
    He walked out of the kitchen in a hurry, as if suddenly remembering something.
    “I have something for you.”
    I followed him over to the family room and sat on the couch near the fire. He brought over the red and silver wrapped box and handed it to me.
    “I thought you would like this.”
    I looked at him suspiciously and then carefully unwrapped the box. Inside, I found a book. Not just any book, but a very old hardcover of Gone With the Wind.
    “It’s a first edition, signed by Margaret Mitchell. Open it.”
    In a giddy daze, I opened the book. Written on the inside cover was Margaret Mitchell’s flowery signature.
    It was the best gift I had ever been given.
    “Dev…this is amazing.” I rubbed my finger delicately down the gold-rimmed spine.
    “I’m pleased you like it.”
    He tenderly brushed a long golden tendril away from my eye and tucked it behind my ear. It was the most sensual touch I had ever felt.
    “My hair…it’s always a mess.” My heart was pounding.
    “It suits you.”
    I felt the heat rise in my body. I shifted away from him. I needed some breathing room.
    “Dev, do your parents know you’re here…at home, with me?”
    He smiled, devilishly, and leaned back into the couch. “No, they think I’m in New York interning over the holidays. I met them in London for a day and then flew straight here.”
    “They must have been disappointed you didn’t go to the wedding.”
    He laughed. “Are you kidding, Scarlett? My mother’s heart grows a little every time I announce I have an internship…or an interview…or any business prospects.”
    “Is that what you really want to do?” I inquired. I always thought business was his passion, but then I didn’t know what it was like to feel the parental pressure to be successful. Hell, my dad was happy enough that I graduated from junior high.
    “I love business and banking…and money. It’s in my blood.” He laughed to himself