THE BILLONAIRE'S REPLACEMENT BRIDE

Hostile Cousin

The dinner had ended, but the family moved to the east salon for drinks. She had lost sight of Adrian. He stood across the room with David, their heads bent in conversation too low to overhear. Margaret had cornered an elderly man near the fireplace, her laughter sharp enough to cut glass. Elena was alone by the windows, holding a glass of wine she had not touched, when the voice came from behind her.

"So you're the consolation prize." She turned.

He was younger than Adrian by a few years, with the same dark hair but softer features.

"Julian Blackwood," he said, though she had not asked. "Adrian's cousin. And you are Elena Vale. The almost-bride, whatever she is."

"Elena Blackwood," she corrected, her voice quiet. "And you're the cousin who manages the southern properties. The ones losing money."

Julian's smirk faltered for Just a fraction. "Adrian told you that?"

"No." She took a sip of her wine, her hand steady only because she commanded it to be. "I read the ledger. It's open on his desk. Anyone with eyes can see your name beside three consecutive quarters of red ink."

She had seen it, in fact, only in passing... a folder open on Adrian's desk the night she had listened outside his study.

Julian stepped closer. The smell of brandy hit her face. "You think reading a file makes you family? You think spreading your legs for my cousin makes you a Blackwood?"

The room was not empty. Margaret had gone silent. David looked up. Elena felt the weight of their attention, the hunger of a family waiting to see if the new bride would cry, would run, would prove herself unworthy of the name she had taken.

She did not look at Adrian. She didn't know where he was. She only knew that if she glanced at him now, she would be asking for rescue and she would not ask.

She smiled. "I think," she said, "that Adrian married me less than forty eight hours after I was publicly humiliated. I think he brought me to this house, introduced me to his family, and sat me at his table and I think you, Julian, have been sitting at that same table for thirty years, managing properties that bleed money, waiting for him to trust you with something that matters."

She tilted her head. "He hasn't and I think that must burn."

Julian's face went white beneath his tan. The brandy glass trembled in his hand.

"You're a joke," he said, but his voice had thinned. "A bought bride"

"Then I'm a very expensive one." Elena set her wine down on the windowsill with a soft, precise click. "And you're still the cousin he didn't marry."

She turned back to the window. She stared at her own reflection in the dark glass, at the woman who looked like she belonged in this room, in this dress, in this silence. She did not turn around. She did not check to see if Julian was still there.

"Well," Margaret said from across the room, her voice dry as dust. "She's not boring. I'll give her that."

Elena closed her eyes.

When she opened them, Adrian was standing beside her. She didn't know how long he had been there. His shoulder nearly touched hers. In the glass, she could see his reflection watching her.

"You let him say those things," she whispered.

"Yes."

"were going to stop him?"

"No." His voice was low, for her alone. "I was going to let you bury him and you did."

Elena turned. His face was close. She could see the flecks of silver in his eyes, the tightness around his mouth that might have been pride.

"You wanted to see if I'd embarrass you," she said.

"I wanted to see if you'd embarrass him." Adrian's gaze drifted to Julian, who stood by the fireplace, staring into his drink like it held answers he didn't want. "You didn't need me, Elena. You needed permission to fight and I was giving it by staying out of your way."

He reached out. His thumb brushed the back of her hand, light and brief and gone before anyone could see.

"You handled yourself well," he said then he walked away, back to David,

Elena looked down at her hand. The touch had vanished, but the warmth remained, branded into her skin, and she knew with a certainty that terrified her: She was starting to need the man who had married her for revenge.