“Aye. I don’t know any Caroline. But whoever she is, she doesn’t hold a candle to you.”
She giggled, the sound fractured by the lump in her throat. “How can you know that if you don’t know her?”
“I know you. And that’s enough.”
Laci wondered if she would ever breathe again after such a statement. No one had ever made a declaration like that to her. Between that and seeing he’d been learning to sign, she was thoroughly charmed. Charmed was dangerous territory, though, so she closed her eyes, shook her head, and took a step back. She couldn’t look at him any longer or she would kiss him.
“It is odd,” she said. “If you don’t know a Caroline, how did that name come up?”
“Fuck if I know,” he said with a shrug. “My head was bleeding. I really am sorry, Laci. If there’s any way I can make it up to you, say the word.”
“Hmmm…” She turned the burners off. Perhaps this was the perfect bargaining chip to lift the sex ban. He had told her to try all she wanted the morning after the gala. “I can think of one thing.”
He raised a curious brow as she stepped closer to him and ran a finger down his chest. She wasn’t sure if it was as seductive as she intended, but she’d seen it in all the movies, so she figured it couldn’t hurt. When his jaw tightened, she was certain it had some effect on him, especially when he grabbed her hand before it reached the waistband of his jeans.
“Something other than that,” he said.
She huffed. “Oh, c’mon.”
“There must be something else you want me to do.”
“I dunno. You’re already learning sign language and being otherwise perfect,” she said, defeated.
“That doesn’t make me perfect, I’m…committed to the bit. Like I always say.”
“That’s way beyond committing to the bit, Jordan.”
“Tate is one of our secret keepers. I’d like to be able to communicate with him.”
She didn’t believe him for a second, but dropped it, trying to come up with something else. Then it occurred to her. “Oh! Have you got Christmas plans?”
His brow furrowed. “No.”
“You have now. You’ll join me and my family at our estate.”
“That, I can do.”
Chapter 13
ThewipersofJordan’sRange Rover flicked away the light dusting of snow falling as they rumbled up the country lane that led to the Miller’s estate home. Laci explained on the drive how her family had acquired it. The Colfield family lived there for centuries, but the last direct heir died in France during the First World War as Tessa said at the gala.
A distant cousin inherited it, but since he wasn’t raised in the aristocracy, he struggled to maintain it. By the time the Second World War broke out, he was in mountains of debt even after selling pieces of the land. Laci’s grandfather had made his riches in the banking industry, which was how he bought the remaining land and the house as it was his wife’s wish to live in a grand home such as the Colfield manor. Laci’s father grew up between there and London. He followed in his father’s footsteps, took over the business, and maintained the house.
Jordan admired the land despite the bareness of the foliage this time of year. The branches of the trees stretched like spider legs across the skyline. He imagined it must look beautiful in the springtime with fresh blooms and green grass. He wondered if he and Laci could come back for Easter.
He stole a glance at her, but her face was turned toward her window while she drummed her fingers against the armrest. Her leg was bouncing too. His brow furrowed. Was she nervous?
“Hey,” he said gently, and she looked at him. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” she answered, but it came out more like a squeak. She cleared her throat. “I’ve never brought someone home to meet my family. And now I’m going to lie to them for three days. But I can handle it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes. I’ll be fine. I may need to restrict my wine intake. Which is a shame, we’ve got such a selection.”
He held back an amused grin. “I thought you were a cosmo girl.”
“Not at home. When there’s about four hundred bottles of wine to choose from, who needs a cocktail?”