When He Was Bad Page 35


Sitting down next to her on one of the couches littering the family room while the rest of his cousins pulled out board games and cards, he whispered against her ear, “You still mad at me?”

She rewarded him with a slight shiver.

“Yes. I don’t like to be blindsided.”

“I know, but it was the only way to get you here.”

“And I needed to be here why?”

“My father wanted to see us together.”

“Next time tell him no.”

“He’s the Alpha Male, baby. I can’t say no without a fight.” Van shook his head. “Besides, the way he’s been acting lately? No way. I’m trying to placate the old man. And come on, this hasn’t been that bad, has it?”

She shrugged, her elbow resting on the couch arm, her chin resting on the palm of her hand. “The prime rib was quite satisfactory, I suppose.”

He swallowed a chuckle. “Thanks. I made that.”

“At least you have some talents besides being attractive and a pain in my ass.”

Van took gentle hold of her free hand. The same hand that she’d twisted his cock with. He must love her . . . he hadn’t killed her yet.

“Don’t be mad at me, doc.”

“This wasn’t supposed to go this far,” she whispered fiercely. “Sexual intercourse and nothing else.”

“I never agreed to that.”

“No. You said you just wanted to kiss me once and then you’d leave. Twenty seconds tops, I believe, was your statement.” She looked at him and those eyes of hers still knocked the breath from his lungs. “Your twenty seconds are up, Van Holtz.”

“Twenty seconds? Are you sure I didn’t say twenty years?”

Growling, she tried to pull her hand away, “Don’t even try it. I know exactly what was said.”

“Maybe. Still, when one is lost in the arms of passion, maybe you misheard me.”

She stopped struggling and looked at him. “ ‘Lost in the arms of passion’?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

She snorted a laugh and looked away from him. “Jack’s right. You’re all certifiable.”

“This comment from jackals. And I’ve been meaning to ask, did her parents purposely name her Jackie the jackal?”

“Stop.” Irene dropped her head, but he could see her struggling not to laugh. “You just stop right now.”

“It’s like the name of a cartoon character.”

“She was named after her great-grandmother, and cut it out.”

Van leaned in, nuzzling the nape of her neck. “Come on, doc. Let’s go for a walk. I’ve missed you.”

Irene swallowed and stared at him. He smiled and the way her body sort ofmelted in the seat told him he had her . . . until . . .

“Would you like to join us, my dear?”

Uncle Verner stared down at them with a damn annoying smirk on his face. Christ, is that the look Irene always accuses me of having? No wonder she’s so pissed off when I do it.

“Join you?” Irene asked, pulling her hand away from Van’s.

“In a friendly game of Risk.” He motioned to the table two of his other uncles had set up.

Irene shook her head. “I don’t think you want to do that, sir.” It was the way she said it that had most of the family turning around to look at them.

“I don’t?” Verner questioned, his smirk never leaving.

“You don’t. Perhaps Monopoly or Life.”

“Are you afraid?” Volker questioned while sitting at the table and getting comfortable.

“No. But I have incredible luck with dice and I am ruthless. You will lose, gentlemen. I will destroy your lands, take your women, ravish your men, and make your children my slave labor. I will own every castle, house, and farm that is within my reach. I won’t be satisfied until I own all of it and you. I will destroy you all, gentlemen, and, to be quite blunt, I don’t think you can handle it.”

Van covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud and he didn’t dare look at his sister. Verner stepped back, motioning to the table. “Now I must insist.”

“As you wish.” Irene sighed and stood. She glanced at Van and gave him a quick wink before turning back to his uncle. “I do hope you’re a ‘sobber, ’ Mr. Van Holtz. Nothing I love more than the lamenting of the men I annihilate.”

“I can’t believe you made him cry.”

“I did not. He just teared up a little.”

“Yeah. I think it was when you told him, ‘I now control your ports and own your manhood.’”

“His wife laughed.”

Van pushed the bedroom door open and Irene stepped in. “This is nice.”

“Yup. This is my room. Nice, big bed.”

“Yes. It is a nice big bed. I’ll enjoy experiencing it all by myself.”

“Irene . . .”

“Don’t whine, Holtz. It’s not attractive.”

“Okay, okay.”

Holtz stood behind her and suddenly the gigantic room seemed so small.

“Irene, I did want to thank you.”

She glanced up at him. “For what?”

“For playing along with whatever my crazy family is up to.”

“Up to?”

“Yeah. They’ve all been acting weird lately. Especially my father. I don’t know what’s going on but I know I don’t like it.”

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