The Wolf and the Sheep (Wolf 1) - Page 19

My father launched to his feet. “You—”

“No.” I was in between them, so I rose to my feet and blocked them from each other. My father wouldn’t hesitate to hit a woman. I’d seen him do it before—just not to my mother. I grabbed his arm and kept him steady so he wouldn’t launch himself at Arwen. “We both need something here. So let’s all shut our mouths and focus on what matters. Father, sit.” I turned to Arwen. “Be silent.”

She grabbed the water again, still staring at my father with obvious threat. She wasn’t scared of him like most people—because she had no idea what kind of crimes he could commit. She walked to the other side of the table, her heels clapping against the floor as she moved. Then she set the glass of water in front of her father.

I guided my father back down into the chair. “Let’s get what we need and leave.”

When my father’s attention was directed to the reason we came here, he calmed slightly. He lowered himself to his chair, his back rigid with tension, and finally stared at Martin.

I looked at Arwen. “Leave us.”

Her attitude fired up again. “So you can berate my father—”

I stood instantly, my next words exploding like a command. “Don’t make me ask you again.” I was ordering her out of the room for her own good, because I couldn’t protect her from my father if she provoked him too much.

“I’m not a dog,” she said calmly. “I don’t obey orders—”

“Princess.” Her father patted her hand. “Let the men talk. I’m getting hungry, so how about you start dinner?”

She was too smart to believe anything he said. She stared at me with those narrowed eyes and tightly pressed lips, like this was far from over. Then she turned on her heel and slowly left the room, her hips shaking from left to right because of her feminine curves. When she was finally gone, so was the tension.

My father got right down to business. “I need all the details, Martin. Since you’re almost dead, time is of the essence.”

When my father got what he wanted, he stormed out of the house and left me behind.

He didn’t need me anymore. He disappeared just as abruptly as he’d arrived. He didn’t say another word, didn’t even give his condolences to Martin about his illness.

I drank my glass of wine until it was empty.

Martin stared at the painting of his daughter for a long time like I wasn’t even in the room. “When I lost my wife, I was the same way. Bitter about everything. I didn’t lose her in such a violent way, so I can’t even begin to imagine how your father feels.”

“Don’t make excuses for him.”

“I’m not.” He turned his gaze back to me. “He marches in here like the villain—but he’s trying to be the hero.”

He was no hero in my eyes.

“I’d like you to take this painting with you. I noticed you admiring it last time you were here.”

Admiring was a generous word. “It doesn’t match the other pieces in this room.”

“It’s not supposed to. I just loved it so much that I thought it belonged there. Everything in this house will be stripped away—I’d like that to survive. Take it with you.”

I had no interest in taking a portrait of a woman I didn’t even like. “Martin, I’m marrying your daughter because I have to—not because I want to.” There was no affection for her in my heart. I was barely impressed by her beauty—even though most men found her stunning. I’d been around beautiful women for so long that they all looked the same.

“Maybe…but your children might want this painting someday.”

I hated imagining a reality where Arwen was pregnant with my child—a little brat inside her. They’d piss and shit all over the place.

Martin slowly rose then made his way to my end of the table. “That ring you gave her really is beautiful. Just between you and me, I think she’s already gotten attached to it.”

I could tell she liked it the second I gave it to her. Her reaction was very sudden and short, lasting only the length of a blink of an eye. But I caught it. She still didn’t like me, but she obviously liked pretty things. “Will we see you on Saturday?”

“I’ll make it to Saturday—but not much further.” He spoke of his death so pragmatically, like he wasn’t the least bit scared.

“You seem oddly calm about this whole thing.”

“Well, I lost my wife five years ago. When you lose the love of your life, nothing is ever the same. You always feel a little lost. Thankfully, I had Arwen to give me some joy through these years, but truth be told, I’m looking forward to being reunited with her.”

It was beautiful…in a sad way.

Tags: Penelope Sky Wolf Erotic
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