People gravitated toward him, like planets circling the sun. “No offense, but I like ’em with a bit more meat and edge. You look like an infant saint in a medieval painting.”
“A cherub,” I burst happily. “That’s the best compliment.”
“It’s an insult he’ll pay for,” Row countered. “And it’s not happening.”
“Get your head outta your ass, she has experience.” Rhyland threw a hand in the air, losing patience. “We can’t afford to pass that up.”
“Besides, she is the only person who would agree to work for you.” Dylan laughed evilly. “You’re dead to everyone else in this town, and I’m too pregnant to pull doubles like yesteryear.”
Why was Dylan vouching for me? Did that mean our beef was officially squashed? Or was working for her brother her idea of a cruel punishment for me?
“He isn’t dea
