The Virgin's Revenge (4 page)

She exhaled and turned away from the sight. Much as she wished it, no, it wasn’t possible that he actually wanted her. He liked her, sure, but not so much that he’d entertain the ridiculous idea of marrying her. Cole wouldn’t entertain thoughts of marriage if he were hanging over a spiked bonfire by his winkie. But somehow, there he was, proclaiming to all her brothers that he wanted to be alone with her. To get her to marry him.

Reality didn’t skew that much in one day. Had she accidentally smacked herself with the crowbar earlier? Was she imagining this? Cole was the type who never gave a crap what people thought or wanted from him. If he didn’t want to do something, he moved on. Why wasn’t he moving on? Why was he going along with this?

Something else had to be going on.

But what?

“What do you mean
if
?” The threatening growl in Locke’s voice wiped all the questions away, leaving an acidic ache in its wake. Despite her temper, her embarrassment, something inside Amanda crumpled. She’d dreamed for so long that someday Cole would wake up one day and
see
her. Want her, just because.

That would never happen now.

Damn you
. She’d never thought that in her life, not about Locke, but she thought it now. Bit her lips to keep from saying it out loud. The hurt flooded her whether the words were out or not. How could he do this to her? Of everyone she knew, she had always been able to rely on Locke to have her best interests at heart. To protect her, no matter what. The betrayal sliced to the bone.

The sense of being wronged was abundant enough to appoint some to Cole as well. Why was he doing this? Why would he do this to someone she’d thought he considered a friend? Conspiring behind her back? This plan of Locke’s had to be behind Cole’s sudden request for her to go out with him, too. The more she thought about it, the angrier she grew at them both.

“I mean it,” Cole insisted, twisting the knife in her chest without realizing it. “No helpful family dinners.”

“Thank God,” someone—probably Dean—groaned. “Does that mean we can eat now?”

“No!” both Locke and Cole snapped.

“No chaperones,” Cole continued, apparently back to his conditions with Locke. “No
happening
to be in the same place, no stopping by to check on us. If she had any chance of falling for anyone with you morons getting in the way, she’d have done it already. You want this to work? Leave us alone.”

The dead silence in the dining room had Amanda’s brows rising along with her resentment. She’d said all that and more to her brother, and it had fallen on deaf ears. Cole asking wouldn’t change anything. Locke would never agree. Ever.

But good Lord, what she could do with that kind of freedom. She could date at will. Could probably even get rid of her virginity. If word got around she was off the leash, she could probably do all kinds of lurid hair-raising sexual acts, all without her brothers stomping in and raising holy terror. She could have an orgy and no one would be able to make a peep.

Well, all right. This was Rancho del Cielo. No one could have an orgy and expect to walk around town without everyone knowing about it. And judging. Harshly. But she could have one man in her bed without being called the Whore of Babylon.

She blinked, a whisper of the unfinished thought flittering through her mind. She could have
one
man in her bed, especially if that man had been approved by her family. Especially if he was the one man she’d always wanted…

A thousand remembered fantasies flooded her mind. Earthy, sweaty, limbs-entwined fantasies. Sweet ones, involving gentle kisses and hours of being held, petted…loved. Oh, if only… But that just wasn’t going to happen. Cole didn’t love anyone. Wouldn’t.

Not you, anyway
, an unpleasant voice whispered in her mind.

She hated that voice. It always had an opinion, and no matter how much she wanted to ignore it, it crept into her thoughts. She couldn’t argue it this time, either. If Cole was ever going to see her as a woman, love her, wouldn’t it have happened by now?

She’d been living in her fantasies too long, waiting for…she couldn’t even call it a miracle. Pain arced through her, from her heart to her throat, down her stomach, almost weakening her knees again. Even mad as hell at him, she wondered if she would spend her entire life pining after a man who saw her as a friend.

God, no.

She scrubbed at her face, snapping herself out of it. No. She might have the imagination of a Hollywood trailer company, but she wasn’t going to let herself get that pathetic. She’d just get over Cole before it got to that point.

Somehow.

She just stopped herself from snorting by putting her hand over her face. As if she hadn’t been trying to break her crush practically since it began. There was a reason it was called mooning over someone. She couldn’t drag her ass away from her sex-crazed delusions no matter what she did. In fact, the only thing she hadn’t tried was indulging in a few of them for real.

She’d always been afraid he’d push her away. Or he’d act like she was crazy. Or he’d just…disappear. The only thing worse than knowing he didn’t want her was losing him completely. Losing those secret smiles, the inside jokes, the intimacy people developed over years that half the time they probably didn’t even notice. But she did. And she’d valued it.

Now, thanks to Locke, that would fade as surely as Cole’s respect for her. She didn’t allow herself any illusions this time. How do you respect someone you don’t want to be around? Don’t want to be reminded of? Because that’s what Cole was like about his dates. Once they were out, it was like they’d never even met. Names didn’t stick, he never got emotional over any of them and if you asked him any details about them, he’d give you the blankest look a person could offer while still paying any attention to you. So she wasn’t being melodramatic when she accepted that Cole would never actually marry her.

Maybe he was just going along with this because Locke was intimidating him. Very likely. Or he was humoring her brothers and figured she’d never agree to date him, so it was safe to just nod his head like a good boy. Because sweet little Amanda would never want to date the hot motorcycle nerd, would she? It wasn’t like she had needs or interests or hell, feelings. Let’s just treat her like a blow-up doll and put her in the corner for shits and giggles.

Ugh.
What she wouldn’t give to go out there and punch them all in the face. And she might have, if the humiliation wasn’t keeping her feet locked exactly where they were.

If any of that was really the case, her own brother would have effectively reduced her from a pathetic sister-figure to an even more pathetic former-lover-figure in Cole’s endless supply of them, women he dropped quickly and never thought of again. It almost didn’t matter what she did now, he’d never see her the same way again.

Her eyes widened, something akin to shock grabbing her so fast she couldn’t even gasp.

It
didn’t
matter what she tried now. Cole had agreed to date her. She couldn’t imagine what Locke was using to force Cole to agree to it, but he had. He couldn’t disappear. A smart girl would be able to use that to her advantage. Maybe exorcise some of those pesky fantasies…

Wouldn’t it just serve Cole right if she did seduce him and then threw him out of her bed when she was done with him? Almost like revenge against him
and
Locke. Having her wild, wicked, emotionally-unentangled way with him sounded like the best vengeance
she
could think of. Cole couldn’t say no. Couldn’t tell her he didn’t feel that way about her. Couldn’t do anything but let her work out years and years of sexual frustration.

They’d both learn hard and fast not to play God with her life, and she’d have a freeing, confidence-building, satisfying goodbye to a girlish dream.

When she thought of it that way, it didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Of course, it assumed she could actually do it. Seducing Cole wasn’t exactly a done deal just because she’d finally decided to try it. People took years to learn how to get others to drop their drawers. Thus far, she hadn’t managed to get anyone to drop their phone number as anything more than a study partner. Of course, she’d been guarded like Fort Knox. For the first time in her life, if Locke told the boys to back off, the guards at the gates would be…gone.

Her mind began to race at that, turning her breathless as she leaned against the wall. She listened for more, but no one out there was even breathing hard. Probably glaring blades at each other, though. Well, let them. Male posturing at least had the benefit of giving her time to think this through a little more.

Knowing Cole wasn’t there because he wanted to be might make it even harder—both on her conscience and just as a feat. Then again, he didn’t seem to have any compunction about doing the same thing to her, did he?

No, she thought, hurt tightening her jaw and sharpening her resolve. He didn’t. None of them did.

She hugged her arms tight around herself, dropping her head, seething.

Because while all that sounded great in her head, sounded possible, even, none of it would ever happen. Because Locke would never agree to leave her to Cole’s discretion. The fact she was a grown woman living on her own was moot to her eldest brother. As far as he was concerned, she needed to be protected by someone at all times. Saved from herself, if need be.

Of all her fantasies over the years, this one—the one where she got to choose without anyone else’s unwanted intrusion—was suddenly the most painful one to let go.

Which is why she almost gave herself away when Locke said the last word she ever expected to hear.

“Fine.”

Holy shit, that actually worked.
Cole couldn’t believe it. On the one hand, he’d figured the privacy would give him the chance to talk to Amanda about this crazy situation. Few people had such a creative, devious mind for revenge and strategy as Amanda. She’d always impressed him how she’d kept her brothers in line or made them pay for crossing it. From sprinkling the elder twins’ underwear drawers with itching powder to gluing men’s faces on the younger twins’ dirty magazine posters.

She’d come up with something, and something appropriately evil. A snick of sound—or was that a hiss?—in the dumbfounded silence had Cole turning his head, but before he could do more than glance toward the kitchen, Locke was in his face.

Cole looked up, all the way up, doing his best not to notice Locke’s extra inches, extra pounds of solid—almost frightening, to be honest—muscle or that he had enough menacing paternal threat to slice Cole in half with his Viking broadsword. Not that Cole knew for sure if Locke had a broadsword, but if he did… Well, of course, Locke had one. Last Cole checked, no one left Asgard without one, right?

Locke’s blue eyes held not a trace of humor. That glare felt like a sledgehammer. “Only because it’s
you
, Cole. And only because I
trust
you.”

All the humor Cole had dredged up disappeared like vapor.

“If you hurt her… If you take advantage of her or my trust, there won’t be a hole deep enough for you to hide from me. Do you understand?”

It took every ounce of fortitude Cole possessed and some he just plain faked to hold Locke’s gaze and nod. It wasn’t the fear of him—though, really, even the rocks on the ground were afraid of Locke—but the utter weight of his own respect for the man that applied so much pressure.

He’d never hurt Amanda. Ever. But it still felt like a lie when he kept his gaze steady and said, “I understand.”

“Well, I’m never going to get this gunk off my face, so you all are just going to have to live with it…” Amanda came out of the kitchen doorway, still rubbing at her cheek. She stopped midswipe, eyes widening as she looked between him and her brother. “Am I interrupting something?”

Locke’s piercing gaze bored into him for a few seconds longer before he finally backed off, making some kind of noncommittal grunt Cole was more than happy to not translate. The brothers all hopped from their various places to follow Locke to the dining room like ducklings. Cole watched, though he’d certainly seen it enough times in his years around this family. Part of it was probably because not a single one of the brothers even considered
not
going where Locke led. The other—the main part, Cole bet—was that Locke was heading toward the food.

“What’d
you
do?” Amanda’s elbow nudged his ribs conspiratorially. “I haven’t seen him growl at someone like that since my Uncle Ruckus tried to make off with one of his boats.”

Cole sighed, wishing he could let it turn into the relieved groan he deserved. He also wasn’t going to ask about Uncle Ruckus. That was a brain bludgeoning in the making. “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

Amanda gave him a strange, sideways glance. Not a bad look, exactly, just a certain gleam in her eye that had an equally strange alarm going off in the back of his head. Her lashes lowered, a slow blink as she turned her attention to the dining room where her brothers were sitting.

She frowned, lines of consternation wrinkling her brow. “What are they doing?”

It took a second to realize what was bothering her, and Cole had the most unexpected urge to laugh. “I believe in most countries it’s called waiting.”

“For
me
?”

He shrugged. “Why not you?”

“They never wait for
me
. Usually, by the time I get down to the table, there’s hardly anything left.”

He’d seen that plenty of times, but he’d also seen the absolute command Locke had at the table. “Not always. They know how to wait.”

“For
Locke
,” she murmured.

And that’s what was getting her. Locke, silently, patiently, waiting for
her
. Five other faces all stared at the two of them.

“Come on.” He nudged her with his elbow the same way she had earlier. “Your brothers are going to pass out and die if you don’t let them eat soon.”

“I’m tempted to wait just to see what happens,” she murmured, but she was already moving forward.