Arranged: An Array Novel (Book #1)

by Hazel Grace

  “That was before I got to kiss the intoxicating Miss Avie Barlow,” he murmured. He squeezed my hands and brought one up to his lips. It was the softness of his eyes that made my heart skip out of his normal rhythm, which made the moment inaudible to everything around me.

  “Am I making you uncomfortable?” Garrett asked, a frown manifesting on his face.

  I shook my head. “Of course not.”

  “I know this is all new and—”

  “Kissing?”

  Garrett shifted his weight to his other foot. “Well, kissing and my—” I chuckled. How inexperienced did he think I was? “What?” he asked.

  “I assure you that I’ve been pecked in my lifetime.” His grip on my hand tightened.

  “I just assumed, with your time at the orphanage, you’d not experienced certain…” He paused, then his face hardened. “Those soldiers didn’t try any—”

  My hand flew to my chest. “No! No. My goodness…no.”

  His brows creased as though he was getting angry. “You’re a striking young woman, Avie. Men tend to take advantage of women who are young and away from safety.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Garrett’s face softened. His calloused hand stroked my cheek before cupping my chin. “You’d tell me, right?”

  Without any doubt, I nodded. In this moment, I’d tell him anything he asked. Leaning forward, his skin brushed my cheek as he whispered, “I’m going to be the one who’ll wipe all those kisses from your mind.”

  He already had, and I was eating out of the palm of his hand. I took a step back, needing to gain some self-restraint. The pull from him was too strong. It had the means to change me, revise any plans I made for my future, and falling for Garrett Cranfield wasn’t part of it. I wasn’t an expert at men, but I’d seen women fall from their overpowering need for a man. It wasn’t that I cared about the gossips; it was because I was scared of losing my heart, body, and soul to a man who knew how to make me weak with one touch.

  Garrett

  Chapter 19

  I entered my study in the best mood I had been in years, whistling the song that played when I held her in my arms. I smiled, thinking back to her begging me to participate in a pie eating contest, something we both had never done before. The excitement she radiated was contagious, and I couldn’t deny her anything she wanted. She won second place, holding up a red ribbon with pride, pie covering her face. She never looked so adorable.

  The rest of the night included her dancing with old Samuel, who was the only man I’d let her dance with, played cards with drunk men who ogled her, then taking her earnings and giving it to the children. Then she danced with me some more. That was what stuck out in my mind the most; her being in my arms, looking up at me with those green eyes. Her wild spirit and those velvety lips consumed me.

  I was in trouble.

  I couldn’t imagine going back to living my life where she didn’t exist to me, other than someone to look after. She took something from me, and I’m not sure what it was, but I wanted more of her. The need to have more time with her consumed my thoughts the whole night. To take her out of Telliva and show her what else the world had to offer, watching the awe and excitement in her eyes. I wanted to give her what she desired; to explore and be free from walls and guards. And I wanted to explore her.

  Fuck. I was in big trouble.

  A shadowed figure moved in the dim light of my study. Not wanting to alert the person that I noticed, I didn’t turn around, but waited for them to make their move.

  “Out a little late, weren’t you?” the voice asked from behind me. Taking a chance on the distance the intruder was behind me, I swung around and punched him in the gut. Twisting him, I pulled out my knife and held it to his throat. His very familiar throat.

  “Now...I know why no one has attempted to kill you,” George choked.

  “You can’t sneak up on a man like that,” I growled, removing the knife and pushing him away.

  George held a hand to his stomach and faced me. “Duly noted.”

  Femme Fatale, I taught him better than that.

  “What the hell are you doing in here?” Needing a drink to calm my adrenaline, I strode to my fireplace mantel.

  “Where were you tonight?” George countered. He picked one of the chairs in front of my desk and sat. “Normally you are here, pining away with plans or playing cards with your guards.”

  I shrugged, reaching for two glasses and the decanter of brandy. “Out.”

  “Hence, why I asked where you were. Where?” He crossed his arms. “That important?”

  “You could say that.” I place down my items on my desk, examining his stiff posture. “Was there something you needed?”

  “Actually, yes.” He stretched for the decanter, not waiting for me, and poured himself half a glass, swigging it down before pouring more. “You fucking threatened Ava’s safety, which I strictly forbade her to leave without a handful of guards nearby.”

  My jaw twitched.

  So he was spying on me, eh?

  I clenched my hands to keep myself from pulling my brother over this table and beating the shit out of him for questioning me. “She is safe.”

  He sneered. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? Why didn’t you just ask me? I would have—”

  “Said no, and there is this man called our father who would have shot that idea down as quickly as it was spoken.” He opened his mouth to speak but I beat him to it. “Don’t bullshit me and say you would have helped me. Even Ava knows—”

  “Don’t use her against me.” He slammed his glass on the table, brandy splashing over the rim. “She is here to be kept safe. So that I can make sure nothing happens. And now my brother is sneaking her out of the castle like a fucking—”

  “She needs to be let off your leash once in a while, George,” I snapped, lifting the edge of the desk and crashing it to the floor. He was pissing me off, completely ruining my evening.

  “It’s not a leash, it's her safety! I can’t afford to have something happen to her.”

  “Afford?”

  “You know how much I care for her!” His eyes bore daggers into me, but I ignored it, sitting in my chair so I didn’t flip him out of his, or throw this expensive brandy across the room.

  “Plenty, I see.”

  “And why wouldn’t I?” he spat. “I’ve known her since we were children. She’s my—”

  “Ex-fiancée. Yes, I’m aware,” I ground out bitterly.

  “Best friend,” George corrected.

  “She was fine. I was with her.” I clenched the arms of my chair, attempting to keep my temper in check.

  “Alone. With no chaperone, and you had no backup. Did you even have another plan?”

  “I did.”

  “And you would take the risk?” He exhaled a shaky breath. “I can’t believe you. You are always so careful and—”

  “Maybe I’m tired of being vigilant all the time.” I pointed out. “Maybe I needed a night off.”

  George was silent for a moment, biting his upper lip and rubbing his chin. “You carry a lot of responsibility on your shoulders. You received the short end of the stick. Next time you need a timeout, keep Ava out of it.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  George scoffed, gritting his teeth. “You aren’t listening to me.” He said it in a slow and grating tone. “I love her; nothing is going to happen to her while she is here. I brought her here to keep her safe. Which started out amazing, since we were attacked only three days into our journey. She is at risk, more so now that, not only is she the only heir, but possibly my bride.”

  My mind froze, repeating his last word. Bride.

  “What did you say?”

  “Father has informed me...that if I don’t find another bride, it’ll be Ava who will stand beside me as Queen.”

  My thoughts flashed to tonight. Ava was in my arms, just hours ago, as I ravished her beautiful mouth, wanting to take more of her with
each passing second.

  “Does she know?”

  “She agreed to it.” That hit me hard. I’d never experienced a whirlwind of emotion like I had now. Confusion mixed with deception obliterated my perfect night. When I wanted to give her the world, she had another plan of her own—marrying my brother while her lips were—

  “Garr,” George chimed. “I already know. Don’t worry about it.”

  I closed my eyes. “Know what?”

  I could hear the smile in his voice. “That you’ve taken a liking to Ava.”

  My eyes shot open. “I’m not looking for a damn wife.” It came out harsher than I meant, but I wasn’t. Yes, I wanted to make Ava happy; it made me feel good. But so would being inside her. I wasn’t staying here. I was going back home to Aruna, and Ava made it quite clear she wasn’t going to be tied down either.

  George shrugged. “Maybe you should be.”

  “I already have Father trying to impose Sophia Chitwood on me. I don’t need you to start in on it as well.”

  George’s face dropped. “Oh shit.”

  “Oh shit is right.”

  ∞∞∞

  Finding Ava in the bustling kitchen was easy; her red hair stood out like a beacon, calling for me. Leaning over a white marble counter, her leg was wrapped around one leg of a stool, as she tapped the other on the floor. Mr. Liason was singing off-key, like he did every morning that I can remember. It drove the rest of the kitchen staff daft with irritation. I admired the man to keep his normal routine while the others wanted to rip out his vocal cords.

  Her long fingers snatched a strawberry from his cutting board while her head swayed back and forth to his voice. No wonder he liked her so well; she could withstand his singing.

  “Ah, mornin’, Lord Cranfield,” Mr. Liason greeted, his gray hair in disarray, a strand in his eye. He didn’t seem to notice or was too busy to care. Ava stood from her chair, chewing and covering her mouth.

  “Good morning.”

  Smiling, I strode toward her. “Good morning.” When I was but a few feet from her, she perched herself back on the stool. By her rosy cheeks and strands of hair loosely falling out of her braid, I knew she had just gotten back from her morning ride with George. “Enjoy your morning excursion?”

  “I did.” She popped a purple grape in her mouth. She smelled of rosewood and fresh air from being in the woods. “Mr. Liason coaxed me into making it a short one. He promised me a lovely breakfast.”

  “Did he now?” I looked at him. “I’ve never seen him make anyone a special breakfast since I’ve been here. Wasn’t it you that said you wouldn’t make me any blueberry muffins?”

  Mr. Liason scoffed. “They weren’t in season.” He placed down his knife and started barking out orders to the merchants on where to place the food. I leaned in closer to Ava.

  “I was hoping I’d catch you before you went.”

  She eyed me before popping another grape between her lips. “You don’t take morning rides.”

  “Yes, my observant one.” Still eyeing her lips, I continued, “But morning jaunts seem to interest me now.”

  Her cheeks turned pink and she evaded my gaze. “Are you going on the rabbit hunt in a few days?”

  I tucked my chin in to hide my smile. “No, I have plenty to do here.”

  Reaching for a berry, I took a bite, licking my bottom lip and tasting the tartness. I wondered what it would taste like off her lips.

  “Back to business, eh?”

  I chuckled. “Unfortunately.” I pushed off the counter, leaning my hip against it to face her. “Unless you have another party you’d like to attend.” She smiled down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers.

  “Do you know of any?”

  “I can ask John.” I inched closer to her. “What else can I do?”

  She locked her eyes with mine, glinting in amusement. “Can you make me breakfast?” I tsked. Not the answer I had in mind, but I loved her wittiness.

  “I’ll make you whatever you want. Can’t promise it’ll be good, though.” I kissed her forehead, lingering a moment longer because I wanted to feel her skin again. Rounding the counter, I observed Mr. Liason’s work. He was just cutting up fruit; I know he had more going on. Striding to the stove, I asked the cook if he was helping with breakfast. He told me that he was making eggs and ham for Ava. Telling him to double up on it because I was starving, I approached the counter to see her shaking her head at me with her arms crossed.

  “You cheated.”

  I tried not to smile. “I had a late advantage, food is already being made.”

  She raised a brow. “Can you make coffee?”

  I held up my index finger. “That I know what to do.” Searching around for a kettle, I began to open up drawers, peeking inside a few with no luck.

  Ava burst into laughter. “We may have to check your eyes, Garr.”

  I squinted at her. “Why, is it out already?”

  “Behind you.” On one of the other stoves sat a full coffee pot. Swearing under my breath, I grabbed us each a mug and the pot. “Need help finding the cream and sugar?” I peered over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes while I shook my head.

  Ava was pouring the hot liquid into our cups, hers all the way to the top.

  “Didn’t sleep well?” I asked.

  “Was out late.” She locked eyes with me for a brief second before spooning out some sugar. I pulled up another stool, bringing it close to her.

  “Anything else?” She hovered the spoon of sugar over my cup. “Yes, please.”

  Dropping the white sweetener in my cup, she looked at me, her other hand on the glass decanter of cream. I nodded. Watching her movements, she gracefully poured cream in my cup, stirring it in with the spoon in her other hand. Placing down the decanter, she clinked the spoon against the rim of my cup.

  “I want to hear about your night,” I pressed, clasping her hand. A small gasp left her throat as she nervously looked around, and I grinned. “Worried about gossips?”

  She shook her head. “No. Just don’t want to be a topic of conversation.” I laced my fingers between hers, feeling the soft flesh against my calloused one.

  “You already are, Avie. Once you stepped foot in that door, you were the highlight of everyone’s chatter.”

  The side of her face scrunched. “Not a very pleasant thing to think of.” I rubbed my thumb along the inside of her palm, taking pleasure in touching her. This innocent part of her body made me think of not so innocent things.

  “Let me give you something else to think about then,” I offered, adding more pressure. Her mouth dropped slightly, looking at our joined hands. Thinking that I was getting her mind to drift off in another direction, she surprised me when she brought her head up.

  “You're a bad influence, Garrett Cranfield,” she scolded, yanking lightly on her hand. I kept my grip, touching her hip with my free hand. My knees were on either side of her, but she wasn’t as close I wanted her to be. Ripping her off that stool and having her pressed up against me still wouldn’t be close enough. My need to have her increased with every moment she was looking at me, laughing, and every second she existed.

  I leaned closer to her, breathing in deeply. “Why would you say something so cruel to me?”

  She grinned, picking up her glass, focusing straight ahead. “I’m sure you’ve heard much worse.” Bringing it to her lips, she took a sip.

  “But it hurt coming from you.”

  She glanced over with a raised eyebrow. “Why?”

  “No man wants to look unfavorable in a beautiful woman’s eyes.” Twirling in her stool to face me, she opened her mouth to speak, but a loud clash of pots or pans crashed on the floor. Our attention witnessed Mr. Liason barreling into the kitchen, his face flush from running.

  She jerked her hand out of my grasp. “What’s the matter, Mr. Liason? Are you okay?”

  He struggled to catch his breath, looking at her with wide eyes. Two young maids dashed in behind him, blanched with tear
y eyes. Alarm rose within me, immediately standing, the wooden stool scraping against the floor.

  “What is it?” I ordered harshly. My first thought was George, trying to remember what he had planned today. The looks of the staff set me on alert; it reminded me of how one of the butlers appeared when they told me George was almost killed by one of our guards. I needed to leave and find him. Turning on my heel, I made my way for the door until the next words halted me in my steps.

  “It’s Lady Madelyn. She’s dead.”

  ∞∞∞

  “We’ll need a full investigation done on this,” Father announced, breaking the silence of the room. He removed his crown and placed it on the mantle, raking his hands through his gray hair. The four of us—George, myself, Father, and Cecilia—sat in the war room.

  “John is already on it.” I informed him. “We will interrogate all the cooks and maids in the palace. No one is allowed to leave until it is finished.” My attention was on how Ava was faring, and if the coffee had made her ill as well. Just as the news was given to them, Lucy showed up and I had ordered her to take Ava to her room, promising to be there soon. I wanted to stay with her, comfort her, kiss her into oblivion, but my duty halted me from such things.

  Madelyn was poisoned, as well as a few others who drank from the same pot of coffee that morning, and I feared Ava was going to suffer the same fate. The notion turned my stomach in knots.

  “Well done,” my father replied, nodding his approval.

  “I want another taster,” Cecilia stated.

  “You already have three, my dear,” he reminded her, and she shot him an incredulous look.

  “Is there a limit on how far you have to go to keep your wife and Queen safe?” she questioned harshly. He sighed, but didn’t answer.