Page 88 of Fairy Tale Lies
Resisting the urge, she grabbed an undershirt Jacob had tossed on a nearby chair. After sliding it on, she stepped to the window, wishing his room didn’t face east. She pulled the shades and breathed a sigh of relief. The cool dimness was heaven on her drained senses.
“Believe me. I want to fall back asleep. However, arriving late will only upset Mother and Nigel.” Jacob had kicked back the blankets, and she eyed his naked form. The sight improved her mood. “Besides, I cannot wait to see you in your new three-piece suit. I love the charcoal vest.”
“I look like an asshole in it,” he muttered, sitting and twisting to drop his feet to the side of the bed. He peered over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow, all sex and sarcasm. “I have an idea. I’ll wear a waitstaff uniform instead? Then you won’t have people constantly asking why a guy like me is at their country club.”
“Wow. You’re cranky this morning.” She wanted to be annoyed but was distracted by his back.
He leaned forward and was rummaging in the nightstand drawer. His muscles were downright delectable, shifting and bunching as he moved.
Leaving the window, she knelt on the bed and leaned forward to kiss the back of his neck, running her fingernails down his spine. “No one’s going to question you today. You’ll be the most handsome man at the party. I, for one, am thrilled you’ll be my date.”
Jacob exhaled, setting the pill bottle he’d taken from the drawer. “Sorry. I’m being a dick. Feeling hungover and edgy. Starting the new year with your parents doesn’t fill me with joy. No offense.” He turned and grinned, standing in his naked glory. “I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise. I’ll get in the shower. Maybe it’ll make me human again.”
She gripped his waist before he could get away. He stilled, and she ran her palms to his front, caressing his stomach, inching lower. Goosebumps broke out on his arms, and his head fell back.
“I know something else that might help more than a shower…”
“What about being late?” His tone suggested a tardy arrival suited him fine.
“You’re too appealing, rumpled and bed ready. We’ll blame our delay on the snowy roads.”
He turned, and she planted a kiss on his tight abs.
“You’re right,” he rasped. “I feel much better already.”
~ * ~
Cindy eyed them as they stepped inside the massive foyer. Next to her was a woman Jacob assumed was the Silverstone’s housekeeper.
Before the door even latched, Cindy started in on them. “About time you got here.” She was blunt, unlike her sister. “I thought you two were bailing on us.”
Greta handed her coat to the maid, wishing her a happy New Year. Jacob did the same, feeling like a schmuck. He could hang his own damn jacket.
“Sorry. Traffic was terrible,” Greta told Cindy.
He wondered if anyone else noticed the pink creeping into Greta’s cheeks.
“I’ll show them to the dining room, Mrs. Whitehill.” Cindy smirked. “Huh, funny. When I drove here, the roads were almost empty.”
“I guess traffic was busier later on, when we left,” Greta replied flatly.
“I’m willing to bet the traffic wasn’t the one getting busy,” Cindy snickered.
Jacob couldn’t hold back a low chuckle. Yes, she definitely wasn’t restrained like her older sibling.
Greta hissed, “Cindy! You are crass.”
The other woman shrugged, not the least bit repentant. “And you’re in trouble. You know how much Nigel and Mother hate tardiness,” she said in a singsong whisper.
“Trouble,” Jacob scoffed. “Are we about to be scolded by Mommy and Daddy?
Neither responded; their expressions said all he needed to know. Following the women, he shifted his neck, trying to dislodge the annoyance crawling under his skin.
Shit. It is going to be a long day.
They made a left, and Cindy opened a set of heavy carved wooden doors, stepping into a formal dining room Napoleon would’ve loved. It screamed opulence and pretentiousness. The burgundy walls were decorated with a thick, walnut crown and chair molding. Jacob’s gaze fell on the floor-to-ceiling windows covering most of the far wall. They offered a nice view of the vast front lawn. Too bad bulky gold and brown velvet curtains blocked most of it.
A chair scraped, bringing his attention to the enormous dining table. Under a set of crystal chandeliers probably worth more than his house sat Nigel and Sophia, their demeanor both regal and annoyed.
