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J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4 - J. R. Ward [292]

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bedroom if it bothers you.” She laughed at the look he gave her. “Okay, I won’t be doing that.”

“About Havers. I was hoping there’d be something we could do for you.”

“Don’t worry. And I appreciate your trying.”

“When are you going to see your oncologist again?”

“Soon, but no more talking about that, okay? Tonight, it’s all about life. I feel good, and I’m not wasting one damned minute of it.”

Rhage’s mouth lifted at the corners, his eyes glowing with approval, respect.

And she’d thought for even a moment about shutting him out? Idiot.

She smiled back at him, looking forward to the end of the evening, when they could be alone together. In the dark. With nothing between them.

When he disappeared into the closet, she went after him, thinking they had a few minutes before the party began so maybe they could get a headstart. While he stared at the dress shirts that were lined up on hangers, she put her hand on his back, right on the beast’s shoulder.

Rhage flinched and stepped away.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

As she circled around him, he kept turning away, the two of them trading places a couple of times.

“Rhage—”

“We need to hurry or we’re going to be late.” His voice was a little hoarse, his pecs twitching.

“What’s wrong with your back?”

He peeled a shirt off a hanger and pulled it on, buttoning the thing quickly. “Back’s fine.”

Rhage gave her a peck on the cheek and quickly squeaked by her. Out in the bedroom he opened the door that led into the hall and then picked up his watch from the dresser and put the thing on his wrist. His fingers trembled as he did up the clasp.

Just as she was going to ask him what was wrong, Phury appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, my brother, Mary,” the man said with a smile. “You want to go down together?”

Mary hid her frustration. And decided if there had to be an interruption, she couldn’t think of a better-looking one. Phury’s glorious, multicolored hair was fanned out around his broad shoulders, and he was dressed to kill. In the proverbial sense. His suit was blue-black and subtly pin-striped, and his pale pink shirt showed off his thick throat and ridiculously good coloring. His loafers were slick as hell, his French cuffs were anchored with heavy gold links, and he was sporting a diamond pinkie ring.

The brother was total GQ material. And Bella and he would look really good together, she thought.

“Tell me, Phury, have you met Bella yet?”

The guy fiddled with the handkerchief in his breast pocket, even though the thing wasn’t out of place. “Yeah, I met her. The night you and the boy came to the center.”

“She’s coming this evening.”

“I, ah, I know.”

“And she’s not seeing anyone right now.”

Boy, that blush really did it, she thought. Phury was adorable.

“He’s not interested,” Rhage said while clipping a handgun to the small of his back.

Mary shot her man a dirty look, which he missed as he pulled on his jacket.

“But you’re single, too,” she said to Phury. “Aren’t you?”

“Oh, he’s single, all right.”

“Rhage, how about you let him answer? So Phury, if both of you are free, why don’t you ask her to have dinner sometime?”

Phury smoothed his lapels, blushing even more. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

“She’s really fabulous—”

Rhage shook his head and ushered her out into the hall. “Leave it alone, Mary. Come on.”

Halfway down the stairs, she pulled Rhage to a stop. As Phury got ahead of them, she whispered, “Give it a break, will you? Bella and he might enjoy each other.”

“The only thing Bella would get out of Phury is conversation.”

“What the—”

“He doesn’t do females.”

“He’s gay?”

“No, but don’t push Bella on him, okay? It isn’t fair to either one of them.”

Mary’s eyes shot to Phury, who’d just stepped onto the foyer’s mosaic floor. Even with his slight limp, he had the swagger of a man who had all of his parts in working order. But maybe that was just an illusion. Maybe he’d been injured while fighting.

“Is he, you know, impotent?”

“Not as far as I know. He’s celibate.”

God, what a waste, she thought, eyeing the way the man moved.

“So he’s in some kind

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