Read Doomsday Brethren, Book 04: Entice Me at Twilight for Free Online

doing the same before you disgrace all of us.”
    “I’m not letting go until you get me the damn list!”
    “I have it,” Felicia hissed at Hurstgrove. “I’ll give it to you, if you’ll take your hands off him.”
    In an instant, he released Mason and turned all his formidable attention on her, his gaze heavy, hot, burning. Fury and impatience and something she couldn’t identify hit her. She swallowed and stiffened her spine, resisting the urge to step back.
    “Get it,” he snapped. Then, to her surprise, he addedmore gently, “Please.”
    Felicia cast a glance at Mason, who nodded. Rattled by fury and a dark thrill she couldn’t explain, she stepped past the men and entered the bedroom she’d used to dress. Inside her tote she found her master lists. Why would His Grace want them? To make certain she hadn’t invited the paparazzi? Lord knew they hounded the man. Whatever the reason, if surrendering the list kept him from strangling Mason, she’d do it. Then she’d give him a piece of her mind.
    As soon as she figured out whether she should continue with the wedding.
    When she returned to the hall, another man had crowded into the little landing area, this one tall and blond, wearing muddy jeans and boots. His authoritative air and razor-sharp gaze gave her pause.
    “The bride, Miss Safford,” Hurstgrove said to the newcomer.
    She waited, but His Grace didn’t bother to introduce his friend to her. Not that it mattered. But did the man think her beneath him and his chum? Felicia gritted her teeth, shoving the thought away. Reconsidering her pending marriage to Mason was far more important.
    “She has the list,” he told the blond man as he grabbed it from her and began to scan.
    “Stop.” Mason’s demand was low, cold. “It’s one thing for you to be rude to me. We’re hardly best mates anymore. But you will not behave so badly to my wife.”
    “My deepest apologies, Miss Safford.” He looked directly at her with those dark eyes that made her shiver. Then he turned to Mason. “She’s your
fiancée.
”
    “A quarter-hour will change that.” Mason’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you
dare
think differently. I know you too well.”
    Hurstgrove raised a haughty brow.
    “Leave Felicia alone, or I swear I will never speak to you again, Mother be damned,” Mason threatened.
    Was Mason implying that his half brother wanted her? Hurstgrove met her stare, his expression carefully blank. That’s exactly what Mason meant. Felicia’s stomach flipped again.
    Foolish
. Why should she care if she was one of many who inspired his erection?
    “Don’t you have guests to greet?” Hurstgrove suggested, his tone silky, lethal.
    “Indeed. Clean up and get to the sanctuary. We’ll discuss your abominable behavior later,” Mason vowed, then offered her his arm.
    Felicia took it, dragging her gaze away from His Grace and chastising herself. She had more than enough problems without her thoughts lingering on the unsettling duke.
    Gaze firmly forward, she walked down the stairs with Mason. True, they shouldn’t be seen together before the wedding, but finding someplace quiet to discuss their future was more imperative than convention, especially with so little time left to decide what to do.
    As they reached the corridor at the bottom of the stairs, a half-dozen women, all dressed to kill, screeched at the sight of
the
Simon Northam. They sprinted up the stairs, tearing past her and Mason, their short skirts and long curls swishing.
    As she rounded the corner, Felicia glanced over her shoulder. Lace, giggles, and feminine fawning surrounded His Grace. And he didn’t look as if he was trying terribly hard to escape. In fact, he wrapped an arm around the nearest girl, put his lips against her ear, and spoke.
    Would he have sex with one—or all of them—tonight? At the thought, something ugly and painful jabbed her. Did the man simply roll about the sheets with anyone possessingestrogen?
    That answer wasn’t