“Oz,” he said, practically picking Lucian up. “You dick. No word in months, and all this time, you’ve been hiding away in paradise.”
Lucian let out a strained ghost of a laugh. “So you decided to invade it, huh?”
“Didn’t leave me much choice, did you?” The man’s smile was still in place when he let Lucian go, but it was strained now. And I knew he was unsure of his welcome. A pang went through me, because it was clear this man thought the world of Lucian.
His blue eyes glanced over at me and paused. “Hello . . .” I was treated to another tilted but charming smile. “And you are . . . holy shit.” His booming voice cracked. “You’re Emma Maron, aren’t you?”
Instant spotlight on me. I felt it every time. My smile automatically wanted to go into public-relations mode. I resisted the urge. This was Lucian’s friend. “Yes.”
Lucian grunted, then inclined his head. “Emma, this lummox is Axel Bromwell. We call him Brommy.”
“We hockey players love our nicknames.” Brommy extended a bear paw for me to shake. But he lifted my hand and kissed the air over my knuckles. “Princess Anya. It is a pleasure.”
“Emma, please.” It was awkward enough with Lucian stiff at my side.
“Jesus, Brom, cut it out,” Lucian grumped. “She’s not her character.”
Brommy rolled his eyes. “I know that. You stored your stick up your ass, didn’t you?” He didn’t appear to be bothered by this notion, though, and took my hand to link our arms. “Sorry about that, Emma. Momentarily starstruck is all. I’m okay now.”
I snickered, and he winked, eyes bright. “But feel free to pull out a whip if I misbehave again.”
Princess Anya had been handy with a whip.
Behind me Lucian growled an unintelligible curse. Ignoring him, Brommy led me to the table, where two other newcomers waited. I noticed the man immediately. How could I not? He was a slightly washed-out version of Lucian—same basic bone structure, though his nose was slimmer, more elegant, and his face a bit narrower.
His hair wasn’t the rich, bittersweet-chocolate tinged with cherry highlights but was medium brown. He had green eyes under straight brows, but whereas Lucian’s and Amalie’s were stunningly pale like frosted-over jade, his were a warmer grape green. Beautiful in their own right and calculating.
The worst of it was he noticed my study of him and liked it. I had the idea that he assumed I was interested. I wasn’t. The man was gorgeous, but I didn’t feel a glimmer of attraction. It didn’t stop him from rising and kissing my hand as Brommy had done. But where Brommy made me want to laugh, this guy had me wanting to snatch my hand back as soon as possible.
“Hello, lovely,” he said. “I’m Anton.”
“Are you Lucian’s brother?”
Behind me Lucian made a noise that I interpreted as “As if.”
Anton’s smile was sly. “First cousin. I got the good genes.”
“Hmm.” My attention moved on to the woman who stood and was practically hopping from foot to foot with impatience. She was probably a few years younger than me and cute as hell.
She, too, had brown hair, although hers curled in a bouncy halo around the oval of her face. And those grape-green eyes.
“Tina,” she blurted out, shoving Anton to the side. Either she was strong as hell, or he was used to her pushing him out of the way. Probably both. “Anton’s sister and Luc’s cousin. And oh my God, I’m going to be a dork like Brommy, because I just love, love, love Dark Castle, and I can’t believe Mamie didn’t warn us you were here. I’d have worn something cuter, gotten my nails done, something, anything, to mark this momentous occasion—”
“Breathe, Tiny,” Lucian cut in, amused.
She immediately let out an expansive breath and wrinkled her nose. “Shit. I am such a goober.”
Laughing, I shook her hand. “No, you’re wonderful.”
Tina grinned at that. “I’ll calm down in a second, I promise.”
“Good, I wouldn’t want to get my whip.”
Lucian grunted—the one I knew meant “Lord help me.” I shot him a side-look, but his expression remained bland. He stood fairly close, just to the right of me, but it was as though his entire body leaned toward the pool house. He wanted to escape. Badly. But he was rooted to the spot.
I felt for him. Especially when everyone took their seats, and Tina pulled out one for me, leaving an empty one next to mine for Lucian. He hesitated. These were his cousins and good friend; he might have had a chance to run off, but then Amalie came out of the house, crimson silk caftan flowing, a beaming smile on her face. And I knew Lucian’s chances of retreat were gone.
He obviously did too. With a sigh, he plopped down in the chair.
“Ah, good, you two are back.” Amalie grinned, her red mouth wide as she sat at the head of the table, a queen at court. “We can have lunch.”