It wasn’t as if any of the women had waved a magic wand, making her brothers change without a quibble. It hadn’t been like that at all—each relationship had a story. There was no question that Erin loved and admired each of the women for their own attributes as well as the loving, more generous qualities that they’d brought out in each of her brothers.
And now, glancing at the magnetic man in the mirror who’d briefly looked away from her, Erin shuddered. She’d grown up with that kind of power and force around her, but naturally, it had never been directed upon her in a sexual way. Not until now. The man at the bar held that certain it quality, and this was the first time in her life that a man of his caliber had focused that attention directly at her.
His eyes came back to hers and held, and her stomach did a double flip as a shower of sparks crackled through her bloodstream. Steeling her nerves, refusing to allow him to see her interest, she forced herself to maintain dispassionate eye contact for a couple of seconds before snapping her gaze away from his with a dismissive win.
****
When the little witch glanced away with a look that screamed indifference, a punch of blood ran through Max’s veins that settled in his groin, hardening him beyond comfort. Son of a bitch. He needed to fuck her—damn badly.
He’d known going in that he would fuck her, that he’d enjoy fucking her—her social media accounts had told him that. Some postings and musings had revealed her dreams and aspirations—useful information that he hadn’t been averse to using to his advantage. But he admitted that it was her personal photos that had him . . . almost obsessed. Yeah, her pictures had reflected her beauty, but watching her now, he realized a salient fact. The images he’d seen in no way reflected the sultry presence she projected. She was sexiness personified and he felt the effects of that now, even while sitting several feet away. So yeah, he’d known from the beginning he wouldn’t have any trouble fucking her. But he’d never expected to need to fuck her—need to fuck her so badly that he could already taste her.
In a heartbeat, his goal of revenge found itself relegated to the back of his mind as a need for seduction took precedence, although it caused a sharp edge of guilt to cut into him. Oh, he’d get satisfaction for the past—twenty-three years ago, the very foundations of his family had been shattered by the Rule family patriarch. The man’s actions, his arrogance, his selfishness had led to devastating loss, irreparable damage and social shame, creating the burning need for venganza that had since become Max’s reason for living. He’d been a teenager at the time and as much as he’d tried, he couldn’t let the slight against his family go unanswered—certainly not while the innocent product of Gordon Rule’s machinations lived so close by.
Yes, the Rules had something coming to them—and what better way to pay the fuckers back than to take their cossetted princess for himself?
As he continued to watch her with a preoccupation that he wasn’t comfortable with, he forced himself to remember—la familia meant everything to him. He admitted that it rankled that he was drawn to the Rule girl for more than just the vendetta. It wasn’t right that he wasn’t on his game—his late father deserved more from him than to be swayed by a beautiful face. He cracked his knuckles as he brought his wayward thoughts into order. He had to remember—he had to stay focused on his goal.
His father had been a good parent—he’d always been there for Max after his mother had died so early in his youth. The man’s deathbed words came back to him; it had been a defining moment in his life. As the somber memory washed over him, he knew what he had to do—he would respect those words—he would fulfill his father’s last wishes, if it was the last thing he did. He took a deep breath, more determined than ever.
As he brought his priorities back into order, he let his eyes roam over Erin Rule once again. He continued to carelessly eye-fuck the beautiful profile she’d presented him with, contemplating her attraction. Certainly her sexiness had a lot to do with his personal interest, but it was more than that. It was the air of detachment she exuded, the way she couldn’t care less that she was sitting alone in a crowded restaurant for everyone to observe. It was the confident way she’d glanced at him in the mirror and found him staring at her. It was the way she’d then raised a single, delicate eyebrow that screamed, ‘What the fuck are you looking at?’ before she had dismissed him by turning away and taking a sip of her drink—and she took that sip with an air of appreciation that told him that the liquor she was consuming was sliding through her veins with a warmth that was almost making him feel jealous.