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Seduction:Her British Stepbrother(11)

By:Lauren Smith


With a shrug of his shoulder, Tristan replied, "I don't believe he knows yet."

"Then we won't worry about your father finding out until he does. Now,  what's wrong with the woman you're interested in? Last time I checked,  being good in bed was a good thing."

He propped his elbow on the table and smashed the heels of his palms  into his eyes, trying to black out the ever-present visions of Kat that  kept taunting and torturing him.

"The young woman in question happens to be my new stepsister."

Brianna's lips parted. "Ballocks." She so rarely cursed, it made him  bark out a hoarse laugh. "You're shagging your stepsister? And she's  American? Oh dear, this is bad." She leaned forward and whispered, "What  will happen when you father finds out?" Her eyes flicked around to the  nearest tables as though expecting the paps to pop out and flash their  cameras. It wouldn't have been the first time.

"Shagged, as in one night. And she isn't my stepsister just yet. We met  before we knew our parents were dating. We got together at a party at  the end of term, then went our separate ways for the break, which  happened to be in the same place. My mother's town house. Mum had some  brilliant idea we could all get to know each other over holiday." He  dropped his arms to the table and covered his face with his hands.

Brianna waved over a waiter. "Two more pints of Guinness, please." Then  she turned back to him. "You're right, you do need another. I take it  things are awkward since you've had her and now don't want her. Is she  one of those clingy women?"

He shook his head. In the past he almost never slept with a woman twice,  Brianna being the exception. But that was because neither of them  expected or wanted it to go past the bedroom.

"No, she's the one who called it off. I wanted … more. But when she  realized the situation could potentially put our parents' nuptials at  risk, she broke it off." He picked up the new beer that the waiter had  set in front of him and chugged it down, not caring that the room spun a  little as he did so. The fact that he'd had four pints before Brianna  arrived wasn't good.

His friend watched him while she took a small sip of her own drink. "You  want more?" She seemed to test the word, as though she'd never spoken  it before and it was foreign to her.                       
       
           



       

"Yes." Hell, he didn't know what he wanted, except he knew he wanted Kat. Wanted more than the two nights he'd had with her.

"Tristan, do you realize how insane that sounds?" It was clear from  Brianna's wide, disbelieving eyes that she didn't grasp the seriousness  of this situation.

"I'm in a bloody nightmare, Bri. You have to help me." He reached across  the table and clasped her hand. Her gaze dropped to the table, then  lifted again, her mouth forming a little O-shape that used to make him  hard and aching to fuck it. But he didn't see the appeal anymore. There  was only Kat, Kat's mouth, Kat's lips, Kat's little smile, her laugh,  the way she hummed Russian symphonies when she thought he wasn't paying  attention.

"Darling, you have it bad," Brianna cooed with sympathy. "It's all over your face. You can't get her out of your head."

He nodded. No point in denying it.

"Can't you seduce her? No woman can deny you when you turn on your charm."

He puffed out a slow breath. "She made me swear to leave her alone."

Brianna giggled. "My, my, a woman who can turn you down. I'd like to meet this little stepsister of yours."

"No!" he sputtered. "She's seen the photos of us. Our history … it almost  made me lose her once before because she thought I'd cheated on her. I  can't go through that again." When she'd accused him of cheating on her  and demanded that he never see her again, it had nearly broken him. A  thing he'd never thought possible. But the thought of never seeing Kat  again, never kissing her, never talking to her late into the night … it  had been unbearable. He'd explained the pictures to Kat, how he and  Brianna had been together a few weeks before he'd met Kat, but the  papers printed pictures whenever they felt like it. It had taken her  almost two weeks to finally accept what he'd told her. That he hadn't  cheated on her.

"Hmm … " Brianna pursed her lips thoughtfully and nudged his pint at him again. "Drink up and tell me more about her."

Tristan drank the pint and another as he told Brianna everything he knew  about Katherine Roberts, from her love of history to her crying over  monarch butterflies.

"She cries over butterflies? Why?" Brianna slid a third pint to him.  When had that one shown up? He'd apparently lost count. His hands felt a  little weak, and his brain a tad fuzzy, but he closed his fingers  around the pint.

"Because they're dying out. She used to see hundreds when she was a  child. Now she's lucky to see even one." The sudden wave of depression  hit him. "It is sad, isn't it?" he said, his speech slurred and his  tongue a little thicker than he remembered.

"I think you've had enough." Brianna's voice seemed to come through a heavy fog.

"Yes." He dragged out the word as everything around him went black.

* * *



Brianna Wolverton stared at the unconscious man on the opposite side of the table.

"Sorry, Tristan, but you'll thank me later." She pulled out her cellphone and dialed a number.

"Hello?" A deep voice came through.

"Carter, it's Brianna. I've got Tristan at the Stowaway. Can you come by and take him home?"

"Er … "

The rustle of clothes and a feminine giggle came through the phone line before he replied.

"Of course. Give me five minutes. I'm not far." Carter disconnected the call.

Brianna pocketed her phone and resumed drinking her beer.

"He okay, love?" The barkeep walked over and gave Tristan's shoulder a gentle shove.

"He's fine. Had a long day, and the last pint dropped him like a stone."

"Uh-huh." The man grunted and wandered off.

Less than five minutes later, Carter strolled into the pub, his blond  hair a rough mess, and Brianna almost laughed. At least someone had  gotten fucked in a good way tonight.

Carter noticed her and strode over, frowning as he saw his best friend  half asleep, his face resting on his arms on the table. "What's the  matter with him?"

"I might've slipped him a heavy dose of allergy medicine. It made him a little drowsy."

"What? Why the bloody hell would you do that, Bri?"

She rolled one shoulder in a shrug. "Because he needs to be vulnerable  tonight." If they could get Tristan home to Kat while he was a little  out of it, he might open up to her, show that soft-hearted core he  worked so hard to hide, and Kat wouldn't be able to turn him down.  Maybe, just maybe, he could escape his father's control and have a life  he wanted with a girl he wanted. She cared enough about Tristan to help  him take the risk.                       
       
           



       

Maybe then, there would be hope for me.

"Bri … " Carter growled. "You aren't making sense."

"Actually," she said, pushing her chair back and standing, "I'm a  genius. Help me get him to your car, he's awake enough to walk. I'll  explain along the way."

* * *



Kat couldn't sleep. Knowing Tristan was somewhere out in the night,  doing Lord knew what because she'd pushed him away … Her stomach roiled,  and she curled up in the leather armchair in the library.

A sudden scuffling noise followed by a grunt and a low curse outside the  library jerked her out of the chair. She rushed to the doorway and  gasped. Tristan was stumbling down the hall, one arm slung over another  man's shoulder.

It was the same tall, blond-haired man who'd given her the Fox Hill  party invitation. Without a thought, Kat left the library and went to  meet them.

"What happened? Is he okay?" She took hold of Tristan's other arm and  helped the man carry him to Tristan's room. Once they got him inside, he  collapsed on his bed, eyes half-open and a little dazed as he stared up  at them.

"He drank too much," the man explained in a low voice.

"Too much?" She sucked in a breath. "Do we need to take him to the hospital?"

With a shake of his head, he tossed his hair out of his eyes. "No  hospital. The press always gets wind of that sort of thing. He'll be  fine. But someone will need to watch him for the next several hours in  case he gets sick."

"Aren't you staying?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Wish I could, but I can't. I'm Carter, by the way. I  don't believe we've officially met." He held out a hand and Kat shook  it.