Craved By My Brother-In-Law

A Fling

Collin

“Drink your wine, Collin. You look like you’re attending a funeral instead of your own reception.”

I didn’t touch the glass. I kept my eyes locked on the girl across the room, sitting quietly near the back, picking at her dress. Dina.

Ten years ago, my grandfather laid down the ultimate ultimatum: find Mirabel—the girl betrothed to me when I was ten—or kiss the Malcolm empire goodbye. My mother, Sasha, had made the poor girl's life a living hell after her parents died, driving her to run away at just ten years old. I spent two solid years hunting for a ghost.

Two months ago, completely burnt out from the wild goose chase, I was sitting in the VIP section of Judy's Lounge, drowning my frustration in scotch. Then she walked up to me.

She wasn't like the usual women who threw themselves at my money. She sat down, looked straight into my eyes, and asked a single, ridiculous question, “Are you okay?”

And like a damn fool, I broke my cardinal rule. I opened my mouth and told a complete stranger about the soul-crushing weight of my family. That night, I took her back to my penthouse. I took her innocence, her breath, and her heart. Then she vanished into thin air the next morning without leaving even a phone number.

Two weeks later, my private investigator finally tracked down the stolen heir. I marched straight to the house to fulfill my grandfather’s damn contract, only to see her sitting at the dinner table.

For one beautiful, foolish second, I thought the universe had played a miracle. That the mysterious girl from the club was Mirabel.

Then her father introduced them. The girl sitting next to her—the loud, demanding one—was Angela, the supposed runaway orphan they had adopted. And Dina? Dina was just the overlooked second choice.

A horrific f*****g coincidence.

I was forced to put the ring on Angela’s finger to secure my inheritance. But the sister was standing at my altar today.

“Collin? Are you even listening to me?” Angela’s voice dragged me back. She looped her arm through mine with her fake smile and practiced for the photographer flashing lights in our faces.

“No,” I said flatly.

Her smile faltered with her grip tightening on my suit sleeve. “We have guests watching! At least pretend you’re happy to be married to me.”

“You knew what this marriage was when you signed the contract, Angela,” I murmured, leaning down so only she could hear my tone. “My grandfather wanted Mirabel back. He got her. Don’t expect me to play the doting husband behind closed doors.”

Angela flushed and I could see her jaw clenching. “I am your wife now. You will respect me.”

“You have the Malcolm name and my bank account,” I cold-shouldered her, pulling my arm free. “Don’t push your luck.”

I turned my back on her and started walking with my eyes scanning the crowd. Dina was gone from her seat.

By midnight, the Malcolm estate was dead quiet.

I discarded my suit jacket, unbuttoning the top three buttons of my black dress shirt as I walked down the hallway. My boots clicked on the floorboards. I was heading toward my study when a soft clinking sound from the kitchen caught my attention.

I pushed the doors open.

Dina was standing by the island in a thin, oversized silk shirt that barely hit her mid-thigh, pouring a glass of water. Her bare legs were long, smooth, and driving me insane.

“You’re up late,” I growled before closing the door behind me slowly.

Dina gasped, nearly dropping the glass. She spun around, her eyes widening as she pressed her back against the counter. “Collin! It's you. You scared me.”

“You shouldn’t be down here,” I said, stepping into her space. The scent of vanilla and rain drifted off her skin, instantly setting my blood on fire. “And you definitely shouldn't be wearing that around the house.”

“I was thirsty,” she said, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to dodge to the left. “I’ll just go back upstairs—”

I planted my hand on the counter right next to her hip, blocking her exit.

“Why did you agree to come here, Dina?” My voice dropped an octave, rough and laced with frustration. “Why the hell did you let Angela drag you into my house?”

Dina swallowed hard, her eyes darting to my lips before snapping back to mine. “She needed help settling in. She’s my sister.”

“She’s a leech,” I snapped, leaning closer until my chest brushed hers. “She takes your clothes, she takes your freedom, and now she’s living in a mansion while you run around acting like her maid. Why do you let her do it?”

“You don’t know anything about our family dynamics, Collin,” she hissed, trying to push against my chest. “Let me go.”

“I know she’s using you. And I know you don’t want to be in this house watching me touch her.”

“I don’t care who you touch!”

“Liar.”

Before she could spit out another protest, I grabbed the back of her neck, pulled her up, and crushed my mouth onto hers.

The spark I felt inside me was electric. It was the same fire from that night in the club between us. She let out a soft gasp against my lips, her fingers gripping my unbuttoned shirt as I deepened the kiss, backing her hard against the edge of the island. I captured her lower lip, drinking her in, hungry for the only woman who had managed to mess with my head in two years.

For three seconds, she kissed me back with the same desperate hunger.

Then, suddenly, her hands slammed against my chest.

With a hard shove, Dina pushed me off her. The momentum made me stumble back a step. Her chest was heaving, her lips swollen and red.

Then she slapped me. My head snapped to the side.

I slowly turned my head back to look at her with a smirk tugging at my lips despite the shock rolling through my system. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“Man up, Collin!” Dina snarled, pointing a trembling finger at my chest. “You’re a married man now! Married to my sister!”

“A marriage of convenience,” I growled, stepping toward her again. “You know I didn’t want her. You know it was supposed to be—”

“I don’t give a damn about what you wanted!” she shouted in a whisper, tears glistening in her eyes. “It was one night, Collin! A stupid fling in a club! I didn’t even know your name, and you didn’t know mine. It meant nothing.”

Nothing.

“Nothing?” I repeated, my voice deathly calm as I closed the distance between us, trapping her against the counter once more. I leaned down until my nose brushed hers. I could feel her shiver. “Look me in the eye and say that again, Dina.”

Dina clenched her fists at her sides, her jaw tight, refusing to back down even as her breath hitched.

“It was a mistake,” she whispered coldly, staring right into my soul. “And if you ever touch me again, I will tell Angela everything.”

She pushed past my shoulder and tore out of the kitchen, her bare feet slapping softly on the floorboards until her bedroom door slammed shut upstairs.

I stood alone in the kitchen, touching the skin on my cheek where she had struck me. A fling?

She could lie to herself all she wanted. But she was under my roof now. And I was going to prove to her just how wrong she was.