Scratch the Surface. Amy Lee Burgess

including the one who’d murdered my bond mates, and cater to him and whatever the fuck problem he had with some guy from England I didn’t even know.

      How bad it could be? I was pretty sure it couldn’t compare to my situation, but I was supposed to feel bad for Murphy and jolly him along even while I silently went to pieces.

      “It’s complicated,” he said. He glanced at me and sighed. He looked so desperately unhappy I felt a little bit like a selfish asshole.

      He was always there for me. He’d stuck up for me and protected me at the Great Gathering. He’d bonded with me to keep me out of Councilor Celine Ducharme’s clutches. He guided me and my wolf, he’d brought me on a two-month road trip to allow me to sort myself and various issues and nobody was more sympathetic to those various issues than he.

      Now here he was, beside himself, angry and desperate, with nowhere to turn. I had him to turn to, but he didn’t have anyone. He was trying to turn to me and I was being a baby.

      “You don’t have to tell me,” I said softly. “It’s okay, Murphy. It’ll be all right. And you don’t have to stay tonight if you don’t want. I’ll be fine. I know you only came back because you were worried about me.”

      He gave me a small, relieved smile. The skin stretched tight around his eyes and mouth relaxed slightly.

      “That and the fact that Allerton must have a reason for this bullshit.”

      I snorted laughter despite myself.

      “You are always so curious about what that man is thinking and what he’s up to.”

      “I have to be because lately what’s he been thinking about and what he’s up to somehow ends up deeply impacting my life. You’re a prime example.” His smile was sardonic, but his voice softened when he got to me.

      “He asked me if I liked you,” I confessed in a guilty rush.

      His dark eyes searched my face.

      “What did you tell him?”

      “The truth,” I said.

      “That bad.” He mock groaned.

      “I do like you. A lot,” I said and he became serious in an instant. “I told him we were having so much fun on our road trip and all the cities we’d seen and then he asked me why I wasn’t in a rush to see Dublin and meet my new pack members and I didn’t know what to say.”

      “Because now you’re thinking I’m deliberately keeping you away from Dublin and the rest of the pack. Aren’t you?”

      It killed me, but I nodded. Every time I’d brought up Dublin, he’d adroitly changed the subject. I’d thought he’d wanted me to relax and not rush through every experience as though I were eating ice cream in ninety-degree weather, but this afternoon after Allerton asked me, I’d begun to wonder.

      His reaction to the fact that this man from the English branch of Mac Tire was going to be here tonight made me wonder if there was some sort of secret being kept that he didn’t want me to know. I didn’t like thinking that way. It made me nervous and guilty, as if I were the one keeping the secret and not him.

      “We’ll go to Dublin soon. Especially now that Colin’s in the picture.” The way he spat out the man’s name, as if it burned and disgusted him, made me shiver. I wouldn’t want to be Colin Hunter.

      I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. He turned back to the window and I put down my brush and went to my suitcase.

      Forty minutes later we were both ready. My dress was a metallic burgundy sheath with a matching bolero jacket edged in dark red sequins. I wore my new Jimmy Choo black platform pumps—a Christmas present from Murphy.

      I stood before the mirror fixing my bond pendant to the short silver chain I wore for evening events while Murphy stood just behind me making last-minute adjustments to his tie.

      He had on a pair of black wool trousers and the white button-down shirt with blue pinstripes I’d gotten him at the Armani store in Houston. A black Giorgio tie with a tiny silver triangular pattern completed his look. He had a gray jacket tossed across the bottom of the bed. Thankfully he’d put aside his Timberland boots for a pair of black wing tips.

      When I went to fasten the chain around my throat, he was there to do it for me and I gazed at us both in the mirror. He was so attentive and the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks as he concentrated on his task, produced a strange longing inside me.

      I’d rolled my hair into a sleek French knot held in place with a rhinestone clip. I looked far more sophisticated and at ease than I actually was.

      “You are so beautiful.” Murphy sounded wistful as he stared at both of us in the mirror. “I look at you sometimes and I can’t even breathe, Stanzie. That’s how beautiful you are. I remember the first time I saw you coming to the table that night at the Great Gathering and I thought, Jaysus God, she’s gorgeous.”

      I flushed. Every time he complimented me I had no idea how to take it. None at all.

      “I thought you were so handsome,” I said. “And bored,” I added with a laugh. “And I seemed to bore you even more than you already were.”

      “I wasn’t bored with you, I was intimidated,” he said with a grin.

      “Oh, hell, Murphy, you and your Irish blarney. That’s such bullshit.” I clasped a silver chain link bracelet around my left wrist. Now I doubted the fact he’d thought I was gorgeous that first night. I hadn’t intimidated him the first night. He’d left the table the minute it had been revealed my bond mates were dead because everyone believed I was drunk behind the wheel. I’d made no effort to defend myself and I knew he’d been disgusted. He’d as much as told me later during the Gathering.

      His dead bond mate, Sorcha, had been a fiery-haired red head and I’m sure she had been really, truly beautiful and people didn’t just tell her she was beautiful to compliment her, they actually meant it. I wished I could see a picture of her, but then again I didn’t. She was already stiff enough competition without me feeling absolutely hopeless in the face of her beauty.

      “There’s not enough Irish blarney in the world to convince you I’m not using any when I compliment you.” He gave me a rueful smile then moved to switch off the gas fireplace.

      I slid a few rings on my fingers and waited for him to put on his jacket.

      It was five minutes to six and time to run the gauntlet.