Page 21 of The Devil's Deceit
Normally, I wouldn’t care. Women come and women go. I’m not interested in settling for one when I can enjoy an array of beautiful companions. But Grace is, was, different, and I can’t put my finger on why. I’m surrounded by upper class, well-bred women, but none of them have ever intrigued me like she did. Her class was stitched into the fabric of her soul, and it showed.
Sure, she’s beautiful, but my interest in her went far deeper than that. She kept my attention, and that’s an issue I often struggle with when I’m dating. My focus drifts, but with Grace, I hung onto every word she said.
Maybe it’s for the best. At some point, my father is going to suggest a bride, and I’ll have no choice but to go along with it. The worst thing I can do right now is become embroiled with one woman only to find out I’m expected to marry another.
“We’re here, sir.”
I blink, dragging my thoughts back to the present. Introspection makes time go fast, that’s for sure. I exit the car and stride into the office building for my two o’clock meeting.
An hour later, I step outside and drop my sunglasses in place. Marshall opens the back door of my car, but I shake my head. He closes it again, primed to react to whatever I decide to do next.
“I need some fresh air.”
“Of course, sir.”
He falls into step behind me as I set off, although I don’t have a destination in mind. I’ve barely walked ten steps when my gaze is drawn to the other side of the road, and there’s Grace, hand in the air, tentatively waving.
Serendipity.
I glance up to the sky to a God I’m not sure I believe in. “If you do exist, I owe you one,” I mutter.
Looking both ways, I wait for a gap in the traffic, then jog across the street. “Are you stalking me?” I grin, unable to hide how happy I am to see her.
Christ, she is a fucking dream—one I don’t deserve.
“If I said I was, would you have me arrested?”
“Only if we can share a cell.” I wink at her, and when she blushes, I have to tamp down the urge to kiss the fuck out of her right here in the middle of the street.
“I was going to call.” She grimaces. “I am sorry I pried.”
I shake my head. “No. The apology is mine to make. I started to call you several times, but apparently, I’m a cowardly idiot who bottled it every time. The collapse of Nexus is a touchy subject, but I shouldn’t have snapped at you like I did.”
“Do you, maybe…” She bites her lip. “Do you have time to go for a coffee?”
I’m due on a call in ten minutes, but it can wait. She can’t. “For you, I’ll make time.”
As we stroll down the street, I fish out my phone and message my assistant. She can attend in my place, take notes, and update me later. Coffee with Grace is far more interesting than a meeting with the council over a brownfield site I want to develop north of the river. Truthfully,a meeting with Lucifer himself trumps the council. Petty fuckers, each and every one of them, and I don’t have the patience today, or any day, for their bullshit.
“I’m not keeping you from something, am I?”
“Nope.” I slide the phone back into my jacket pocket and give Grace my undivided attention. “Did you know I’d be there today?”
She nods sagely. “Yeah. The tracker I slipped in your pocket at dinner came in handy.” She pauses for a beat and then laughs. “Pure coincidence, Christian. Although I’m not mad about it.”
See,thisis what I adore about Grace. She’s sharp and funny, and I like that in a woman. I also adore how she’s coming out of her shell a little more. Granted, my treatment of her at dinner must’ve sent her scuttling back into it for shelter, but today’s meeting is a chance to do some damage control.
“I’m not mad, either.” I push open the door to an independent coffee place that, in my opinion, makes far better java than the chains.
A bell dings over the door. Marshall steps inside with us, then positions himself next to a rubber banana plant; his hands linked behind his back. The woman behind the counter looks from him to me, and back to him again, but says nothing.
“What’ll you have?” I ask Grace.
“Latte, please.”
I make eye contact with the woman who’s still staring at Marshall. “Two lattes.”
She blinks, eventually focusing on me. “Huh?”
