Chapter One
âOh⦠I thought it was you.â
âWell, it looks like you were right.â Ren smirked through the open door at Michaelâs face. He tried hard not to feel too much resentment at the look of satisfaction in the manâs green eyes.
It wasnât easy. His gut instinct was to hate the bastard.
After all, in a few more weeks heâd be marrying the woman Ren was still half in love with.
âRen!â
Speak of the devil .
She came through the door, a blonde bombshell, a towel barely covering her, her hair hanging in wet ropes down her shoulders. He caught her in his arms, wet and nakedâthe fucking towel, it might as well not even be there.
Her name was Elle. A few hundred years ago, she had lived in a small country. Sheâd fallen in love with a prince, and although no glass slipper had been involved, their story had helped inspire some of the Cinderella fairy tales.
A number of the fairy tales involved people who had actually lived. Many of them still lived. They werenât really people though. Not any more. They were angelsâ¦guardian angels. Or at least thatâs how they ended up.
Will had a rather twisted sense of humor.
Heâs a sick, cruel bastard, doing this to me, Ren thought darkly as Elle tipped her head back and smiled up at him. âWhat are you doing here?â
âHello, princess,â he said softly. A fist formed around his heart, rising to lodge somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. He stroked a hand up her back, remembering to keep the touch as fraternal as he could, considering how precious little she wore.
Fuck me, a towel.
Looking at Michael over her shoulder, he set his jaw and hoped the hell raging inside him didnât show.
The last thing he wanted was for his rival to realize just how much he envied him.
Pride was a bloody cold bed partner, but it was better than no bed partner at all, Ren supposed.
âElle,â Michael said, with just the faintest edge to his voice. âPerhaps you could stop strangling him long enough to let him come inside.â
She laughed, a happy gurgle of sound and gave Ren one last, delighted squeeze before she bounced away, grabbing at her towel before it could start a slow descent.
Ren couldnât decide if he was glad of that or not.
Not that he needed to see those sweet curvesâheâd held that lovely body against his time after time, and the memory of it was emblazoned on his mind. As she moved to lean against Michael, Ren tucked his hands inside his pockets.
Easier that wayâlessened the temptation to reach for her.
âSo,â Michael said, his voice still a little cool, and little too edgy. âTo what do we owe this pleasure?â
Chapter Two
âExactly why did Will send you again?â
Seated on the couch, staring into the fire, Ren heard Michaelâs question, but it took a moment or two to filter inside his mind.
âRen?â
Frowning, he glanced up and looked at the other man, then sighed. âWill. Now, you have met the man, right? You have noticed he doesnât always seem to have reasons for the things he does? Or fathomable ones, at least?â
âSo he sent you here just to say hello?â
âWell, likely not.â He flashed Michael a sharp-edged smile. âBecause the bastard knows Iâm more inclined to tell you to get fucked than say hello .â
âThomâ¦be nice.â Elle scowled at him from a fat, overstuffed chair placed just under a large window. She held a glass of wine in her hand and there was a frown on her face. âAnd yes, we all know Will can do⦠Well, weird things. But if he sent you here, Iâd think there was a reason. I donât like not knowing what it is.â
She shifted her gaze to him.
A hundred years with her had taught him what it felt like when she wasâ¦prying. As he felt that light, deft touch, Ren lifted a brow. âYouâre being rather rude
R. C. Farrington, Jason Farrington