Page 33 of Duke It Out
EDIE
“Just checkingbefore I bring it in, would you rather eat in the kitchen?” I turn in the dining room as the door opens, expecting to find Rory but its Gregor, the cook. The table is laid for one, the polished silverware set out as neatly as it might be for a fancy dinner party. Only a dinner party with precisely one person – me.
“Where is everyone else?
“It’s only you tonight; the boss is away,” he says in his strong Glasgow accent. He’s short with close-cropped hair and a burly build, like an ex-serviceman. He looks like he might have a secret double life as Rory’s bodyguard, although I can’t help thinking he’d put up a pretty good fight if he was cornered.The Bossmakes me smile. It makes him sound faintly menacing, like a Mafia don.
“And no Jamie?”
He shakes his head. “He doesn’t tend to eat at the big house often.” He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “I just thought you’d maybe rather sit in the kitchen than be all by yourself in here.”
“Oh.” I feel like a prize idiot now, having dragged myself away from the books to have a shower and blow dry my hair and put on make-up, just to prove some sort of point to Rory, who isn’t even here. “Yes, the kitchen will be fine, thank you.”
I follow him back along the corridor, my heels clicking on the wooden floor. Serves me right for dressing up. And now I have to sit here at the big, scrubbed oak table while someone serves me food, trying to act like I do this every night.
“Would that be all?” Gregor stands back, having set three dishes on the table.
“Oh yes, that’s fine, thank you. I’m—” I don’t know what the protocol is. Is he going to stand over me with his hands behind his back like an old-fashioned butler? “I’m fine, thanks.”
He surprises me with a smile and tips his head slightly. “In that case, I’ll leave you to it. You must be worn out after having your head in the books all day.”
After dinner I grab a sweater and wander outside to get some fresh air. It’s eerily quiet in the settling dusk only the occasional tweet of a bird breaking the silence. I turn to look at the castle windows, glowing softly against the pale stone. I wonder if Rory’s chosen to eat elsewhere as some kind of power play, wrong footing me by implying I’m expected for dinner then leaving me to it. A moment later my question is answered as a black car speeds down the drive and pulls up outside.
He nods briefly as he climbs out and my heart contracts. He’s in jeans and a grey T-shirt which shows off his toned chest and muscular arms. It’s the first time I’ve seen him dressed in civilian clothes and it does something to my insides which it really shouldn’t. Unfortunately, my reactionshaven’t quite got the memo about him being an arrogant arsehole.
“Hello.”
“Evening.” He gives a brief nod and disappears inside. I’m left standing on the drive wondering if I go in now will I look like I’m following him. I swat at my forehead because something’s biting me – the dreaded midges are out. A whole cloud of them seems to have descended out of nowhere and now I have no choice – if I stay out here I’ll be eaten alive, so I’m going to have to play it casual.
I push open the door and peek inside, only to see him leaning casually against the banister at the bottom of the sweeping staircase, talking on the phone. He raises a finger as if to hold me in place as his spaniels hurtle towards me, as welcoming and enthusiastic as he is frosty and disapproving. I kneel down to give them a cuddle.
“Yep. Right, well, keep me up to date, please. If I have to come over, I will.”
He glares straight through me with a furious expression. If looks could kill, I’d be another statue for the family collection. I straighten up and stand there scratching the bites on my forehead while he wraps up his call then shoves his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. The dogs wander around the hall, their nails tip-tapping on the parquet floor.
“My apologies.” He pushes his hair back in his habitual gesture and my eyes drop to the strip of skin that’s exposed as his T-shirt rides up for a moment. My stomach twists sharply in a wave of lust and I drag my eyes away, pretending to be wildly fascinated in one of the stuffed deer heads on the wall.
“They’re an interesting design choice, aren’t they?”
He follows my gaze. “I can’t remember the last time I noticed they were there.”
He steps closer, just slightly, and I catch the clean scent of soap and the faint lemon of his aftershave. He bends to scratch Tilly’s ear and his shoulder brushes mine. The breath leaves my body in a quiet rush. There’s too much heat in the space between us. If I shifted even an inch, I could lean into him. Feel him.
He doesn’t move, and neither do I.
I want to saywhy the hell weren’t you at dinner after making a point of insisting I should be, but I don’t. “Well, anyway, I must be going upstairs.”
“Do you have everything you need?” His eyes meet mine and for a moment I wonder if he’s feeling something too. It’s impossible to tell if this is a game, or if this just who he is – cold, unreadable, and infuriatingly magnetic.
I nod. “Yes, thank you. It’s like a very beautiful prison.”
He gives an unexpected bark of amusement. “I rather hoped the car keys might help with that.”
“Oh, they do. Definitely. I mean they will tomorrow when I go out.” I scratch my head furiously.
“Have a shower,” he says, looking at me like I’m an idiot.
“I’m sorry?” I drop my chin and try and inhale discreetly.
