Page 19 of Diamond In The Rough

I turn at a familiar voice, and lift my chin when a soldier I sent out with a very specific job today pauses on the threshold of the house. “Did you speak to her?”

“Yes, sir.” He wanders onto the pool deck, nodding in greeting as Felix and Christabelle contort to look over their shoulders.

Theodore Harrison is a soldier through and through, but he’s not as large as Stovic. Not as scarred as Michaels. Harrison can handle himself—and has, a thousand times over—in heated situations. But he cleans up well, too.

And can pass as a thirty-something rich boy with too much money on his hands.

“I spoke with Ms. Hale, sir.” He comes to stand by the table, blocking the glare of the sun, but not my view of my brother. “She was very professional and kind.”

“Wait…” Felix flips on his lounger and glowers at me. “You sent him to spy on her? Micah!”

“She’s too smooth. Too practiced in her damsel act.” I look to Harrison. “What did you find?”

“She was working when I arrived to study the desk, sir. Sitting at her computer and fielding phone calls as they came in. Pretty standard stuff. Ms. Hale served me, but she didn’t get stuffy about my presence. Her friend visited?—”

“Roscoe?” I interject.

“Jazmine. The loud one. They, uh…” He side-eyes Felix. “They were discussing you guys.”

“She was?”

“See!” I shove up from my chair and point a threatening finger toward Felix. “I told you! You’re over here talking about how this dude Wilkes wants to slide into the city and fuck some shit up. Meanwhile, a pretty little filly just so happens to place herself in my path? Nah.” I turn away, pacing the concrete tiles of our patio. “I wasn’t born yesterday. And she’s not as good an actress as she thinks she is.”

“Well, actually…” Harrison clears his throat. “Sir. I’ve observed her over three days, and nothing has given me reason for pause. She works with the antiques like she’s meant to be there. She knows her art history. She handled the phones and answered questions. We spoke of the Queen’s desk today, and her knowledge was spot-on. She even knew of the seal hidden in the lateral compartment. If she was a stooge for Wilkes, she wouldn’t be likely to know that.”

“Wilkes is from England,” I snap. “The desk is from England. Not an enormous leap there.”

“Sure,” he counters, though he does so gently. Our father’s memory, complete with merciless punishment and trigger-happy behavior, lingers within our ranks. “But I went to Colby’s myself, sir. I sought that desk out. She didn’t attempt to sell it to me without my interest.”

“Fine. You said they were discussing Lix.”

“The, uh…” He glances over to Felix. “The red-haired woman came barreling into Colby’s with today’s paper.”

“The Cannon Daily?”

“No. The Telegraph, which is reporting on your upcoming nuptials. The redhead is, in Ms. Hale’s words, ‘obsessed’ with the family.”

“So the redhead is working for Wilkes?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Felix snarls. “Not everyone is out to screw with us, Micah! The redhead thinks we’re sexy, Tiia Hale thinks we’re sexy. It happens!”

“As a matter of fact…” Harrison coughs, nerves beating from his pores. “They did mention Micah’s aesthetic appeal.”

Instantly, my brow shoots high on my forehead. “My aesthetic appeal?”

“Yes, sir. Both women commented on that, but Ms. Hale made it clear she was not interested the way the other woman was.”

“Ms. Hale thinks you’re sexy!” Felix laughs, flopping to his back and fixing his sunglasses. “But not so sexy that she’d fuck you.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head side to side. “Must suck to be you, bro. She’s so pretty, and she’s got you all mixed up and convinced she’s a Bond villain. But when asked during private conversation, she dismisses you—even if, aesthetically,” he sniggers, “she thinks you’re pleasing.”

“Your smart mouth is gonna be the reason you die, Felix.” I set my grape portions into my mouth and turn, my shoes scraping against the ground, alerting the sleepy dog and bringing his head up. “You take nothing seriously. You’d rather fuck around poolside and let Wilkes take your city and Tiia Hale lull you into a sense of ‘well, she’s pretty, so she can’t possibly be bad.’”

“First of all,” he folds his neck and looks back at me, “Christabelle wanted to kill me, too. So clearly, the pretty ones can be bad.”

“Wanted?” she murmurs. “Past tense?”

He drops his hand over her thighs and tugs her closer until she’s almost on his lap. Bastard, the dog, peers across to monitor, his attention, concentrating firmly on Lix’s bruising palm.

“Second of all,” Felix continues, “you’re allowed to find a woman attractive, ya know? You saw her in the street. She got your protective instincts stirring. You dragged her inside CeCe’s and got her to safety, and now you can’t stop thinking about her. It’s been weeks, and you’re still obsessing. So why don’t you stop being a little bitch, and instead, go find her and ask if she’d like to fuck? There doesn’t have to be a motive on the side.”

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