Page 82 of Knot for Sale

“Of course I’ll see her,” she said finally. “She’s my granddaughter.” Her gray eyes narrowed. “First, though—tell me something about her that a stranger wouldn’t know.”

I nodded my understanding. “She told me you two didn’t get on so well after her old man got killed. She needed to get away from this place, but I think she regrets how things ended up between you. This means a lot to her, even if she won’t say so aloud.”

Clarabelle huffed out a breath, her posture softening a bit. “Sounds like she hasn’t changed much, then.”

I tilted my chin toward the road. “Okay if I get us moving again? We can still get you to that clinic appointment.”

Her lips twisted, but after a moment, she gave a single, sharp nod. I pulled onto the roadway, slotting us into a gap in traffic.

“What gave me away, out of curiosity?” I asked, glancing sideways at her. “I’ll have you know, arranging this took a fair bit of work, not to mention cash for bribes.”

Her tone grew acid. “This isn’t your car. It smells like coconut air freshener, and itdoesn’tsmell like you.”

“Huh,” I mused. “Good one. I’ll keep that in mind in the future.”

“More importantly,” she went on, “Jeffrey knows I don’t like alphas. He wouldn’t send an alpha to pick me up if he was sick.” She turned a suspicious glare my way. “Jeffrey’s all right, I assume.”

I winced. “He’s fine. Bad news, though. It only took nine hundred quid to convince him to take a sick day without asking any awkward questions about the details. You might want to think twice about trusting him for anything important.”

She cursed under her breath, and it was filthy and creative enough that I had to stifle a choked laugh at the unexpectedness of it.

“I’ll box his traitorous ears until his skull rings like a bell,” she vowed.

“Maybe hold off until after you talk to Emma,” I said. “No point in rocking the boat when we don’t want to raise suspicions with the family.”

Clarabelle muttered something unintelligible, but then she sighed. “Very well, young man. I’ll restrain myself.For now.”

I delivered Clarabelle to her GP, trusting my instincts that I wouldn’t find a flock of rozzers—or Huntwell mobsters—descending on me in the waiting room while she was in the back getting her blood pressure taken.

On the drive back, we discussed the meeting. It ended up being a much shorter discussion than I’d expected.

“Just take me to her now,” Clarabelle said. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I insisted on eating a nice lunch at my favorite restaurant, which just happens to be way the hell across London.”

I gave a mental shrug and headed toward Kensington Palace. In many ways, it was a simpler solution than trying to arrange another scheme to get her away from her house without suspicion. As we turned onto Kensington Palace Gardens, her eyes widened.

“Youremployer, you said.” Her tone grew openly suspicious. “Anyone I would have heard of?”

Given the number of ambassadors and heads of state who lived in the area, it was a fair question.

“Probably not,” I said. “And if youhaveheard his name, it won’t be for the reasons you’re thinking. Does Gabriel Rosencranz ring any bells?”

“Rosencranz,” she echoed. “I don’t... no, I don’t think I know the name.”

“He’s a local boy made good. Got out of the old neighborhood and used his book-smarts to make basically more money than god.” I pulled to a stop at the security barrier and rolled down the window.

The guard gave the Audi an unimpressed look. Apparently, the gray sedan didn’t meet the exacting standards expected for the area.

“Identification?” he asked officiously, despite the fact that I recognized him—and that meant he should damn well have recognized me in turn.

I handed my license over without comment. He gave it a quick glance and nodded, before peering curiously at Clarabelle in the passenger seat.

“Visiting family member,” I told the bloke. “Promise she’s not hiding any bombs in her handbag.”

The guard’s pursed lips told me he didn’t appreciate the joke, but it wasn’t my fault that he was behaving like a prick. He handed my license back and jerked his head to indicate we could proceed. The security bollards blocking the road retracted into the pavement, and I drove forward slowly.

“I was going to ask how this employer of yours thought he could keep my Emma safe if Tommy’s after her,” Clarabelle muttered. “Guess I don’t need to worry after all.”

“Money can be a pain in the arse sometimes,” I said. “But other times, it comes in right useful.”

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