Desire a Donovan. A.C. Arthur

how about we talk about the one we both keep skirting around?”

      “And what’s that?”

      “You don’t like Mark whatever his name is. You don’t want Lyra to marry him.”

      Dion sighed. “Sean. Don’t do this.”

      “Don’t say what you’re thinking. Who the hell is this guy and what are his real intentions toward Lyra?”

      “They’ve been together for years. She knows what she’s doing.”

      “Really? You think so? Because from what I saw of her last night, she looks like she’s undecided.”

      Now that had Dion’s attention. “I didn’t see that.”

      “Because you were too busy trying to ignore her, which I don’t really understand at the moment. Each time Mom asked her about the plans for the wedding she clammed up. When Regan asked her when they were going shopping for dresses, she changed the subject. What woman do you know isn’t ecstatic about planning their wedding and ready to talk about the preparations until they’re blue in the face?”

      Sean had a point. One that Dion hadn’t considered because he didn’t want to hear about Lyra’s wedding plans any more than Lyra wanted to talk about them. He’d never liked Stanford, the internet guy, and disliked him even more for taking Lyra away and convincing her to marry him. But that was his issue, not Sean’s.

      “Look, Lyra’s a grown woman. She can make her own decisions.”

      “What if she’s not seeing things clearly? You know how women can be. Don’t you think, as her brothers, we at least owe it to her to check things out, make sure she’s making the right decision?”

      No. Oh, God, no. Because if Dion found out Stanford didn’t have Lyra’s best interests at heart, he’d kill that bastard. He only needed one more excuse to beat that pompous wannabe to a pulp.

      “I don’t want to interfere. Besides, Lyra’s got bigger problems than that.”

      “Like what?”

      “Paula’s back.”

      Sean pinched the bridge of his nose, something he often did when he was stressed. “God, why can’t that woman just disappear? Haven’t we given her enough money to do that?”

      “You know money for people like her is another kind of drug. Every time she gets a little she needs more. I told Lyra to stop enabling her.”

      “And what’d she say?”

      “She told me it’s her mother, just like she always does.”

      “It’s a pity she’s still holding on to that tiny shred of hope. So you don’t want to do anything about Mark and we’re supposed to sit back and let her mother hold her hostage for money day in and day out. Is that your plan?”

      Dion thought about it a minute. There was a limit to what he wanted to tell Sean, because the last thing he wanted was to involve his brother. But he’d considered what his brother had said, and had thought about nothing else all morning.

      “I’ll deal with Paula.”

      “And Mark?”

      “I have a feeling he’s going to trip up sooner or later. Lyra may be foolish for falling into her mother’s trap, but she’s not a fool when it comes to men. She knows what she wants and what she doesn’t. She’ll make the right decision when the time comes.”

      Dion hoped like hell his words were true, because he didn’t know if he could stop himself from standing up and objecting when the preacher said, “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

      There was a knock at his door and they both acknowledged the meeting was about to begin. Sean cleared his throat and straightened his tie.

      “I’ll follow your lead on this, but know that I’m still worried about her,” he said.

      Dion tried to disregard his brother’s concerns. “You worry about everything, man. Chill out a little. It’ll do you some good.” It would do them both some good, because if Sean was worried then that was not a good thing.