Chapter 35

Once he finished a shower, he threw on a pair of gray slacks and a white button-down, then stared at the bed. Kept staring. The sheets were rumpled from their love-making, her scent lingered in the room, and recollection of their passion flooded him until suffocation loomed.

All he wanted was more. More memories, more time together, more...everything. Interesting, because he'd never thought himself a sadist.

The sisters had arrived by the time he'd made it back downstairs and were helping his brothers set out the food in the formal dining room. They hadn't dined in or used this space since their uncle had left the island nine years ago. Brady had almost forgotten what it looked like.

Walnut wainscot paneling would've made the interior dim or moody if not for the elaborate chandelier over the massive ten-seater Palais Royale and the bay window facing the eastern side of the grounds.

The space was still as ostentatious as he remembered. Monet on the walls, a Copenhagen china set too