Lochlan

The revelations in the kitchen shifted to the back of my mind, shoved there by the infuriating sound of my father's voice. Mrs. R, always too kind and forgiving, shook off her shock and pasted a bright, genuine smile on her face and hurried to greet the guests. Millie put her injured hand behind her back and followed me as I walked toward the entryway like a man condemned to death.

I knew she was confused about my behavior since arriving. A better man would have told her in the car why it had to be this way, but I'd been weak. There was no other way to put it. Leaving the haven of the cabin had already cast a shadow over us, and I wanted to preserve whatever joy and pleasure was left from the night we spent together. So, for an hour, I held her hand, listened to her tell stories, and pretended like we were together.

The moment Mrs. R opened the door and laid eyes on us, I withdrew. Made up excuses about work and escaped to John's office while Mrs. R dragged Millie into the kitchen. Maybe she understood a little of why I did what I did. There would be questions neither of us would be comfortable answering right now, especially while everything was in the air, and I didn't want my family thinking I'd taken advantage of the woman who might be their daughter and sister. That was still a sticking point since I'd decided Millie could actually be Marianna.

I paused at the entrance to the foyer. Mrs. R had the housekeeper, Rita, pulled aside to tell her which rooms were assigned to the Sloans. Plural. Because coming to the family Thanksgiving wasn't insult enough, my father had brought his vicious wife, Antonia. She stood off to the side, arms folded over her expensive breasts, and surveyed the room. From the way her slender nose wrinkled, someone might think she was being forced to stand in a barn instead of a foyer with white oak floors and a Swarovski Crystal trimmed chandelier.

"Millie," Roman said, spying her standing behind me. He held up his hands. "You made it after all."

I bristled internally, wrestling with my face to hide how much I hated seeing him speak to her, much less breathe the same air she breathed. Because he was the biggest reason, I couldn't afford to show her an ounce of genuine affection while we were here. Whatever I cared for, Roman Sloan made it his mission to destroy.

"Hello, Mr. Sloan." I applauded Millie's cool tone.

"Come now. Call me Roman. Mr. Sloan was my father." Roman stepped back and put his hand on Antonia's lower back. "I don't believe you've met my wife, Antonia."

"No, she wasn't there when Alex and I visited. Hello, nice to meet you."

Antonia sniffed and pushed her hair over her bronze shoulder, the movement making the dozen bracelets on her wrists clack together. She gave my father a petulant look. "I did not know we could invite our staff to this gathering. I would have brought Hanna."

Mrs. R's head snapped up, and her brows lowered in apparent disapproval. Before she could say anything, Millie spoke up. "Ah, the lack of help explains why you look like you got dressed in the sample closet of an outdated fashion magazine."

I choked in my efforts to hold back a laugh. Rita and Mrs. R didn't bother to hide theirs, though they excused themselves immediately, their giggles echoing down the long corridor leading to the bedrooms.

"Really, Lochlan," Antonia fussed. "This is the company you keep? My how you've fallen, but I suppose the women of class have learned to steer clear of you by now."

My father didn't step in to defend or stop his wife. His posture remained relaxed, but his gaze sharpened as it bounced between Millie and me.

"Millie is here as the Reed family guest." I ignored Millie's wounded gasp even though I wanted to grab her hand and reassure her. "As are you. I would suggest you retract the claws for the rest of the week."

"Here, here. Kitten, you can show everyone how sweet you really are, right?" Roman asked his wife. Anyone who didn't know him very well would miss the threat threaded through his words.

"Of course," Antonia purred. She stepped toward me and slid an arm through mine. "Especially, if I am kept entertained."

I wanted to rip my arm out of her grasp, but that was precisely what my father wanted to see. He wanted to know his stupid games got to me, so I let her stay where she was. Millie moved farther away from me and closer to Roman.

"My son looks suited to the task. He knows this place as well the Reeds." Roman said, clapping his hands together before putting an arm around Millie's waist. Holding my gaze, he smiled. "And I think I remember enough to help Millie out if she gets turned around."

That was it. I drew the line at his filthy hands being on her. I — Millie smiled warmly and leaned into his body. A red haze pushed in on the edges of my vision.

"I don't know if Anna plans on letting me out of the kitchen anytime soon." She held up her injured hand. "Then again, I might be more of a hindrance than a help."

"Oh, you poor dear. I think you should retire from the kitchen," Roman said, turning his palm upright so her hand could rest in it. He moved his thumb over the bandage tenderly. His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "You look like you were made for other pleasures, anyway."

"You fu—"

The opening of the front door cut my curse off. Alex walked in, shaking snow off his gray coat. His hair was tousled, and his green eyes danced with his usual good humor. That was until he saw my father and I squared off, the women wisely edging away from us.

"Gangs all here I see," Alex said. Pushing snow dampened hair out of his face, he moved out of the entryway without closing the door.

"It is cold," Antonia whined.

"Sorry, sorry," someone called from the outside. Millie swayed, her face turning white. "I left something in the car."

Marcus barreled inside and closed the door. The incoming winter storm ripped it from his hands, slamming it shut. The massive man winced. Alex patted his shoulder comfortingly and squeezed his bicep before taking his hand away.

"Who is your friend, Alex?" Antonia asked, licking her lips as she made no attempt to hide her admiration of Marcus.

"No," Marcus said, wagging his finger at her. "Wrong team."

Alex grinned. "Millie and Lochlan are already acquainted. Roman and Antonia, this is my... friend, Marcus. Didn't want him to be alone for the holidays."

"Unbelievable."

I looked at Millie. I had known Alex was seeing someone but never suspected it was Marcus. Neither did she judging by her reaction. "Are you okay?"

"I—I—I," She pressed a hand to her stomach. Lips trembling, she dragged in a breath and tried again. "I think I'm going to take a nap."

"Excuse me," Marcus said, pushing through the crowd in the foyer to go after her.

Antonia and Roman didn't speak as they exited, leaving Alex and me standing there wearing twin expressions of confusion, though I wondered if it was for the same reasons. I very much doubted Marcus had confessed to Alex like Millie had to me, and I wrestled with suspicion at the thought of the old friends alone together.

Alex cleared his throat. "Well, I think this is going well so far."