Ruthless King

With a sigh, she sat and got to work. Both on her book and on remaking herself.

Jilly was walkingup and down the hallway, trying to work through a plot hole in her book, when she heard the front door open.

Turning, she saw Regent walk in. Excitement hit her and she forgot about the problem with her book.

Racing toward him, she was vaguely aware of the three men behind him, but she didn’t really look at them.

She was focused on her man.

His eyes widened slightly, his only reaction to the whirlwind running toward him. She threw herself at him and he caught her, holding her against him. She placed a kiss on each of his cheeks, then his lips.

“You’re back.”

“I am.” He stared down at her as though he couldn’t understand her. “I’ve only been gone a few hours.”

Right.

And she was acting like a complete and utter lunatic.

He set her down and she tried to keep herself from blushing too hard.

“Damn, remind me to have words with Aston. I want to be greeted like that every time I return home.”

She looked over at the other men. One was Victor, who seemed as calm and unconcerned as ever. Jardin smiled at her. The third man had to be Maxim, Regent’s youngest brother. He had that casual elegance. That air of confidence that bordered on arrogance but wasn’t obnoxious.

Also, he had the same thick, dark hair as Regent.

Maxim grinned at her, his dark blue eyes dancing. He had a slimmer build than his brothers yet it was obvious he worked out. His hair was slicked back, his stance relaxed.

“Hi, I’m Jilly.”

“I should hope so.” He held out his hand. “I’m Maxim.”

To her shock, Regent pushed his brother’s hand away before she could grab it.

“No touching.”

Maxim’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously? I’m your brother.”

“No.” Regent swept her up against him, walking with her further into the house.

“Um, well, hi.” She tried to turn back and wave at Maxim, but Regent wasn’t having any of it.

“I’ll meet you in the study,” he fired back as he walked with her to the back of the house where the solarium was.

“Is that . . . did I do the wrong thing?” she asked in a rush.

He stared down at her. “The wrong thing? No, you did nothing wrong. Maxim shouldn’t touch you.”

“He was only going to shake my hand.” That wasn’t what she’d been talking about anyway.

She’d meant the way she’d greeted him. It obviously hadn’t been what he’d expected.

“I don’t seem to be able to stand the idea of any man touching you.”

“Careful, your possessiveness is showing.”

“It wasn’t showing before?” he queried. “I will have to improve my game.”