Untamed (The Amoveo Legend 3) Page 9

  “Nothing.” Layla shook her head quickly and sat across the table from him. “No, no. It wasn’t William. He’s been…well, he’s been a perfect gentleman, actually.”

  He had been. He hadn’t tried to force himself on her or drag her off like the caveman Raife accused him of being, or she expected him to be. He’d been a gentleman, even in the dream realm. He’d only stolen that one, knee-buckling kiss, and that one didn’t really count.

  Dream kisses didn’t count, did they?

  She made a face and took a sip of her iced tea. She frowned as she realized it was a much more disappointing fact than she’d expected it to be. Layla pulled her feet onto the chair and wrapped her arms around her knees. She hadn’t felt this unsure of herself since she was a kid.

  “Good.” Raife relaxed his posture and sat back again in his chair. “He better be, or I’m going to kick his feathered ass.”

  Layla gave him a doubtful look. “Whatever.” She took another sip of her drink. “We went to the grocery and saw Ralph and Ginny yesterday afternoon. Ginny mentioned something about Rosie selling the farm to Frank Clark. Can you imagine? I mean, I totally freaked out and practically ripped Ginny’s head off for suggesting such a thing.” She rubbed her chin on her denim-clad knees. “Actually, William was the one who calmed me down.” Her brow knit together in concentration. “He used his energy to soothe me. Just like you, me, and Tati have done for each other for years.” She shrugged as if she had to explain his kindness. “I guess it’s a pretty common Amoveo thing.”

  Raife stayed stone still and kept his blue eyes on his sister. It dawned on her that he didn’t seem surprised at all by what Ginny suggested about the sale of the farm. A sick feeling settled in the pit of Layla’s stomach.

  It was true. Rosie was selling the farm.

  “Raife,” she said hesitantly. “It’s not true, is it? Rosie isn’t selling the farm… is she?”

  Raife looked away from her. His jaw clenched, and he let out a long, slow breath. “She’s been thinking about it,” he said quietly.

  “What?” Layla sat up, and her feet hit the floor hard. “She can’t sell this place, Raife. This is our home.” Her voice rose and sounded an awful lot like that scared little girl she swore she’d never be again.

  Raife’s nostrils flared and anger carved deeply into his features. “You think I don’t feel the same way? I still live here, Red. This is my home. I don’t just come back and visit once a year like you and Tati,” he said with a sharp wave of his hand.

  Anger and frustration rippled off him as his words stung with the sharp twang of truth. He was right. She and Tatiana only came home to visit once or twice a year, but Raife lived and worked here. She was being a selfish brat and hadn’t considered his feelings or Rosie’s at all.

  Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” She was quiet for a moment, wanting to choose her words carefully. “Is it final? I mean, has she signed anything yet?”

  Raife shook his head. “No. She’s met with Frank a couple of times at his office in town. He’s offering her a crazy amount of money for the property.”

  “Thank God,” Layla breathed. “So there’s still a chance we can talk her out of this?”

  “I don’t know.” He sighed loudly and ran his hands over his face. “I can’t blame her, Red.” He rested his elbows on the table. “This place isn’t cheap to run, and most months we barely break even. Rosie’s been renting out the extra bedrooms from time to time to help make ends meet. I even got a gig bartending a couple nights a week at the Rustic Inn.”

  “Really? Well, I’m going to talk to Rosie about this. There’s got to be something we can do.” Layla was quiet for a moment as she regarded her brother carefully. She felt the need to change the subject. The last thing she wanted to do was upset Raife more than she already had. “Guess who else we ran into yesterday?” She wrinkled her nose.

  Raife shrugged. “I dunno know. Who?”

  “Your ex-fiancée, Sylvia Clark,” she said with clear disdain. “She’s still phony.”

  A big smile cracked Raife’s face and created the two familiar dimples that he was famous for. The girls loved his dimples. “Did you deck her again?”

  Layla threw her head back and laughed loudly at the memory of when she’d hauled off and slugged her at Tyler’s party. The bitch had been toying with Raife off and on for years, but the last straw came when she called off their engagement a month before their wedding and instead ran off with David Garrity—who became ex-husband number one.

  Layla’s smile faded when she recalled the broken look on Raife’s face when he’d told her what happened. Sylvia didn’t even have the decency to do it herself, but instead, let her father do it. Good old Frank Clark happily told him that Sylvia had gone on a weekend excursion with a young man of her social caliber and would not be marrying some farmhand.

  The memory of it still made her blood boil, but was also tinged with guilt. Layla had sensed Sylvia’s less than honest feelings in some photos she’d taken for their engagement, and she’d tried to tell Raife that she was hiding something, but he wouldn’t listen. Layla always thought she should’ve tried harder to convince him.

  “No. I try not to go around decking other women, but believe me, I wanted to knock her lights out,” she said firmly. “She’s still as cold as ever. How many husbands is she up to, anyway?”

  “She just divorced dummy number three.”

  “I figured as much.” Layla reached over and grabbed Raife’s fork. She peeled back the saran wrap and scooped up some of what was left in the pie plate in the middle of the table. “He was probably a rich dummy though.”

  “Not anymore,” Raife said with a satisfied smile.

  “You seem happy that she took yet another man for all his dough.” She ate the sugary goodness in one bite.

  Raife shrugged. “Hey, if they’re stupid enough to marry her, then they deserve whatever they get. I’m sick and tired of rich, entitled assholes getting everything they want, and the little guy getting screwed.”

  “Agreed.” Layla nodded and swallowed her mouthful of pie. “Which is just one of many reasons we need to keep Rosie from selling this farm. Especially to Frank Clark,” she said, pointing her fork at him.

  “Speaking of rich, entitled assholes… what does William do for a living?” Raife asked as he stood and gathered his dishes from the table.

  Layla had to bite her tongue to keep from coming to William’s defense. He was rich. At least he seemed to be. The man pulled out a huge wad of cash at Epstein’s yesterday and didn’t blink at the bill, but he wasn’t an entitled asshole like Frank Clark. The very idea of comparing William to a man like Frank was ridiculous, because the man she was getting to know was not a selfish asshole.

  Bossy and pushy? Yes.

  She smiled at the drink in her hand. But selfish? Not that she’d seen, at least not yet. The chivalrous way he came to her aid and his sole concern for her well-being… these were not the makings of a heartless jerk.

  She cleared her throat and flicked her gaze back up to her brother. She wasn’t going to defend him to Raife, at least not yet. “Well, if you must know,” she said reluctantly, “he’s a lawyer.”

  “Ha!” Raife tossed the dishes in the sink. “Even worse than I thought.”

  Layla smirked and drained the rest of her iced tea. She knew her brother wasn’t going to give William an inch. She watched him as he rinsed his dishes in the sink. For all his stubbornness, her brother was the kindest man she’d ever known, and he had a heart of gold. Any woman who landed him would be treated like a queen—she glanced at the sink with a smile—and have really clean dishes.

  “Oh, I should mention one more thing about William,” Layla said tentatively.

  Raife didn’t turn around. He just kept washing his dishes and putting them in the drying rack. “Yeah? What’s that?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “He can hear our conversations,” she said a bit too quickly, bracing hersel
f for his reaction.

  The telepathic communication between the three siblings had always been something sacred, and she worried that this latest development would just piss him off more. The dish clattering in the sink ceased, and the rush of the water seemed louder than ever. Layla cracked open one eye and saw Raife standing perfectly still, his body stiff with tension.

  “Raife? Did you hear what I said?”

  Raife shut off the water and grabbed a dish towel from the counter. He turned slowly to face her as he dried his hands. “I heard you,” he said in a voice tinged with sadness. “Look, I know that there are others like us, and I’m well aware that William is your mate.” He made a loud sound of disgust. “Shit, the sexual chemistry between you two is palpable, and to be quite honest, it grosses me out because you’re my sister.”

  Layla opened her mouth to protest, but he shot her a look that kept her quiet. Her face burned with embarrassment at the mention of the chemistry between her and William. Awkward.

  “Listen, Red. I want to learn as much about him and the rest of the Amoveo as I can. Look, until yesterday, as far as we knew, there weren’t any others around.” He tossed the dish towel back on the counter and leaned against the sink. “Shit. I’d even half-convinced myself that they were extinct, and we were the only ones left. So you’ll forgive me if I’m a little uncomfortable with all of this.”

  “I don’t know if they’re all the boogeymen that we’ve been afraid of all these years.” Layla peered at her brother through sympathetic eyes. She knew exactly how he felt. “William hasn’t given me any indication that he wants to hurt us, and I don’t know about you, but I want to learn more about them. Knowledge is power. Right?”

  Raife nodded and sighed before looking away. “Right.”

  “He did something else yesterday,” she began slowly. Layla didn’t want to overload her brother with too much at once, but she knew he needed to know about William’s other abilities. “Something that I didn’t know we could do.”

  Raife’s body tensed, and the muscles in his jaw clenched. “What?”

  “He materialized out of thin air in the passenger seat of my car,” she said with genuine awe. “He called it part of the visualization skills.” She shrugged and let out a loud sigh. “Whatever that means.”

  “Really?” Raife’s eyebrows flew up. “You mean he just appeared?”

  Layla nodded, and a smile spread over her face. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “I have to admit it was pretty cool.”

  Raife murmured a sound of understanding and pushed himself away from sink. “I wonder what other surprises he’s got up his sleeve.”

  Layla held her brother’s serious gaze and lifted one shoulder. “I have no idea.”

  He cast a glance out the window. “Looks like Rosie’s been giving him the full tour of the farm. What’s next? A night on the town?”

  Layla laughed as she rose from her seat at the table. “Actually, we’re supposed to go to see Tyler’s band play tonight at the Rustic Inn.”

  “Really?” His eyebrows raised, and that dimpled grin cracked his face. “That’s perfect. I’m working tonight, so it’ll give me a chance to get to know good old William and keep an eye on him at the same time.” Before Layla could protest or say a word, Raife placed a kiss on the top of her head, grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl, and headed upstairs. “Something tells me you two need a chaperone.”

  A chaperone? Great. That’s all she needed was to have Raife watching their every move tonight. How was she supposed to figure William out with Raife in the background? And to top it all off that Barbie-doll-from-hell was going to be there. “Wonderful,” Layla said with a growl of frustration.

  Are you alright? William’s smooth, seductive voice slipped gently into her mind. Relief washed over her, and to her surprise, she instantly felt more at ease. The connection with him was back with shocking intensity, and it energized her physically and mentally. I’m sorry. I know you have asked me to stay out of your head, but I can tell you’re upset.

  Layla smiled. Well, you’re right on both counts. I did ask you to stay out of my head, and I am a bit upset. Her smile faded. Rosie really is thinking about selling the farm to that asshole Frank Clark.

  I’m sorry, Layla. It seems clear that this place is very important to you. His voice dipped low, to an almost contrite tone, and rolled through her in soothing waves. And I’m sorry if you feel that I have invaded your privacy by connecting with you, but I had to be certain you were alright.

  It’s okay… I guess it’ll just take some getting used to. She cleared her throat and fought the surprising flood of emotions. Life was changing at an alarming pace, and she hoped she’d be able to keep up.

  Chapter 7

  Layla walked toward them from the house as he caught her scent on the wind. Her cinnamon spice was tempered by the enticing perfume of gardenias, and when mixed with the crisp fall air, it created a delicious, intoxicating fragrance. Memories of their shared dream had been flirting along the edges of his mind all morning, and seeing her now brought them to the forefront.

  His brow furrowed as he recalled how abruptly she had severed their connection and thrown him out of her dream. The only thing that gave him hope was that she seemed receptive to him again this morning, and he sent a silent prayer that she would remain that way.

  He drank in the sight of her as sunlight cast golden rays over that curly red hair, making it burn brightly like firelight. Her petite form was completely enveloped by an enormous sweatshirt, which on many women would look dowdy or dumpy—but not on Layla. On her it was intriguing and created a shroud of mystery that sparked the desire to discover every curve she hid underneath. His cock twitched in response. He’d never wanted anything or anyone so badly in his life.

  “You know, boy,” Rosie whispered. “That girl doesn’t trust easily.”

  William turned his attention to Rosie, and his face heated with embarrassment, because he’d almost forgotten she was standing there. Thank God she couldn’t read minds, or she’d likely want to slap him silly. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back in a pathetic effort to keep his raging hormones at bay.

  Rosie’s gray eyes glared sternly up at him beneath salt-and-pepper eyebrows, and for a moment, he thought that maybe she could read his mind. He was about to assure her he meant no harm, but before he could get out a sound, she slapped one weathered hand over his mouth, while pointing at him with the other.

  “Just shut up and listen.” William nodded his acceptance, but Rosie kept her hand over his mouth. “I mean it. You’re going to have to work your ass off to get her to trust you and open her heart to you. First of all, the thought of having some Amoveo man come and carry her away has been hanging over her head her whole life.” She sighed loudly and looked him up and down. “But it seems pretty clear to me that you aren’t of a mind to do that… are you?”

  William shook his head slowly, but she didn’t remove her hand from his mouth.

  “Good,” she continued. “Now, that girl has been through hell and back. Her Mama was bat-shit crazy, and after that woman died, she bounced around from place to place until she finally landed with me.” Rosie narrowed her gaze and dropped her voice to just above a whisper as tears rimmed her eyes. “Layla acts tough—but it’s just that—an act. That girl is still broken inside, but I think you might be just the person to help her mend.” She sniffled and finally removed her hand from his mouth. “You get me?”

  “Yes,” William said quietly. “I believe I do.”

  Rosie had confirmed his suspicions. He knew that there was much more to Layla than met the eye, and he was determined to discover it all, even if it would take him the rest of his life.

  “Good,” Rosie said with a good firm smack to his cheek. William blinked with surprise, and simply nodded his understanding. Rosie winked at him and patted him on the arm as she walked away. “Don’t forget what I said,” she shouted over her shoulder.

  “Forget what?
” Layla asked breathlessly. She’d jogged the last several yards up the hill to meet them by the barn.

  “Nothing,” Rosie said dismissively. William watched with genuine interest as Rosie quickly took charge of Layla the same way she’d taken charge of him. “Well, I see you finally woke up. Since I am not a lady of luxury,” she said with a teasing lilt to her voice, “I’ve gotta get some paperwork done. Why don’t you take William around the outskirts of the farm?” She gave a quick nod toward him without looking. “Y’know, show him all the places you kids loved to roam when you were growing up here.”

  Layla looked from Rosie to William and back again. She crossed her arms and focused all of her attention on Rosie as nervous energy waves fluttered from her and buzzed over William in rapid-fire succession.

  “Paperwork, huh? This wouldn’t have anything to do with Frank Clark and selling the farm would it?”

  Rosie sighed loudly and shoved her hands into the pockets of her overalls. “No, it wouldn’t.”

  “Really?” Layla eyed her suspiciously. “Well, would you mind telling me why you’re thinking about selling the farm to Frank Clark? The same man you have repeatedly referred to as the slimiest bastard around,” she said, making air quotes with her fingers.

  “Yes, actually.” She laughed. “I believe I would. However, more importantly, you’re being rude. You have a guest. Now, quit worrying about things that don’t need to be worried about. The farm isn’t going anywhere today.”

  “But Rosie—”

  “Bye.” Rosie walked away and waved without turning around. “You two have a nice walk. I’ll see you back here for dinner.” She looked at the darkening sky. “Better not be out too long. Looks like a storm is coming.”

  “That woman is the most infuriating piece of work,” Layla muttered as she watched Rosie walk away and ignore her question. “Shit.”

  William fully expected her to run after Rosie and force the conversation, but to his complete surprise, she turned and brushed past him toward the barn.