Dangerous:Made & Broken (A British Bad Boy Romance)(8)

By: Nora Ash


“Poor girl’s in for such a disappointment—if she’s desperate enough to agree to marry you, she undoubtedly needs a good rogering. Heck, she might even be a virgin! You really should bring your A-game, brother.” Liam grinned.

“You two fuckers better just shut up and thank your lucky star that it’s me here instead of one of you,” I growled, though the twins obviously didn’t share my lack of amusement. Of course, while they were standing by my side as the guests found their seats, I would be the one to swear sacred vows to a woman I’d never even met before, while they got to continue on with their lives as they pleased.

“To be fair, it would have been Marcus before either of us,” Louis said, slanting a look at our only other, present brother. “For once, being the youngest of the bunch paid off.”

“Ha, can you imagine them trying to marry some poor girl off to Marcus, though?” Liam snickered. “Eh, no offense, man.” The last part he mumbled, the perpetual laugh in his voice dying to a cough.

I glanced at Marcus just in time to catch the dark look he sent our way before once again looking straight ahead as if lost in deep thought.

Most sane criminals in town—and quite a few law enforcers—would make sure not to get in the way of a Steel, but Marcus had a way of making people cross the street just by looking at them. Of course, his reputation as a complete sociopath didn’t help matters much.

Even I didn’t really know what went on behind his blank expression, but I’d been to clean up a few of his messes along the way, and knew that he had some demons, for sure. He didn’t just kill—he butchered.

“God, the Clerys are such a bunch of pricks,” Louis muttered, and my attention was drawn to the front row, where a bunch of strangers filed in across the hall from our own father and stepmother. “Look at those smug smiles—they really think they hit the jackpot, eh?”

I didn’t answer, but despite my blinding headache, I couldn’t help but frown at the older man as he stared up at me like I was a prime cow up for auction. Undoubtedly the father, as he looked especially pleased with himself. Yeah, the Clerys obviously thought this marriage was their way up in the underworld, even if my own father saw it as nothing more than a means of placation.

My musings were interrupted when organ music abruptly blared through the church, cutting through my suffering brain like a saw. I winced and looked up just in time to see the doors at the other end of the aisle crack open.

“Here we go—time to get hitched, brother.”

I didn’t know which of the twins spoke, but I didn’t turn my head to find out. My eyes were glued to the double doors and my heart suddenly decided to work overtime, pounding behind my ribs as if I’d just run a fucking marathon.

The doors opened fully, and a lone woman in a hideous white dress and a long veil covering her face stepped through.

I had a vague notion that it was odd her father wasn’t walking her down the aisle, but my pulse thundering in my ears drowned out the thought quickly enough. Even my palms were clammy.

Fucking great. I already hated whoever she was for landing me in this fucked up situation—the fact that just seeing her walk toward me had the power to damn near bring on a panic attack didn’t make me any more of a fan. I liked being in control, of myself and my surroundings, and right now, I was neither.

I didn’t give a shit if it was unfair—I blamed her.

It wasn’t until she was right in front of me that I realized she was looking down at the floor behind her veil, and how badly her hands were shaking as she clutched her bouquet.

A nudge to my side from Liam made me step forward to greet her, and it was then that she finally looked up and I saw her face.

My heart gave a violent spasm before it dropped all the way to the bottom of my Italian leather shoes.

I knew her.

And her name wasn’t Aignéis Clery. It was Holler. Mira Holler. My fucking shrink.



* * * *





Chapter 4

Mira



I’d never seen so much emotion on a completely blank face before. While every single muscle on my husband-to-be’s face was still, I could practically read his mind from the flashes of shock, fear—and finally anger—that filtered across those stormcloud eyes of his. Yeah, I was about the last person he wanted to see right now.

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