Page 51 of Then Come Lies

A thin line formed between his dark brows. “What? How can you ask that?”

I shrugged. “This is the third time today you’ve suggested we stay in London. I can’t help feeling like maybe that’s what you really want.”

“Well, it’s absolutely fucking not.”

“Swear jar, Dad!” Sofia called.

We both smiled in her direction, then turned back to each other after Xavier had taken a bill from his wallet and tossed it into an ornate vase at the end of the desk.

“Will you be able to make at least some time for us?” I asked, hating that I even had to wonder.

Xavier’s hands came to rest just below my waist, thumbs stroking lightly over my hip bones through the leggings I’d worn to travel. I shivered, knowing full well what those thumbs were capable of. Along with all the other fingers on each hand.

“Of course,” he said solemnly. “That’s not even a question.”

I pushed that errant lock of black from his forehead, enjoying the way he nuzzled into my hand. “Then it’s not a question for us either. Where you go, we go.”

His hands slipped behind my knees and pulled me toward him, tipping his chin upward for a kiss.

I obliged. Xavier purred like a cat under my lips, tongue just barely slipping out to touch mine. But just before things got a bit more interesting, he pulled away.

“That’s that, then,” he said as he stood, reaching toward the ceiling with a back-cracking stretch. “Why don’t you two find Elsie to give you a tour of the grounds? There’s actually loads to see. Library, of course—you’ll love that. Gardens are worth a walk or two, and there’s swimming in the pond. Horses, stables, all sorts to explore. Mrs. Niles—that’s the housekeeper—gives tours to the general public at four on Fridays, so you could join them tomorrow if you want to know a bit more of the history.”

“You don’t know it?” I wondered. “I was hoping to get the tour from the duke himself.”

For that, I received a wry smirk and an arched black brow before he caught me in his arms and lifted me up so we were nose to nose.

“If I’m giving a tour, it will only be for you, Ces,” he growled. “Show you all the secret, forbidden places in this pile of stones. Spots where a girl can be taken advantage of. Believe me, you will be getting that one.”

I smiled into his lips. “I can’t wait.”

TWELVE

Ten minutes later, Xavier declared that he needed a break.

“Come on, Sof,” he said as he turned off the computer. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Let’s find Elsie, and Mummy and I can go for a walk.”

After dropping Sofia off with Elsie in one of the sitting rooms, it took nearly fifteen minutes for Xavier and me to cross from one end of Corbray Hall to the other, and in that time, I got the tour I wanted, if a bit abrupt and truncated. It was clear from his bleak gestures that Xavier didn’t care much for the place. He obviously knew a lot about it, but his curt answers made me think he resented the knowledge more than he wanted to share it.

“What’s that painting?” I asked as he steered me down another long corridor filled with priceless (and enormous) portraits.

“What? Oh, that’s Sir Roderick Parker.”

“Another relative?”

“They’re all relatives, babe.”

“Yes, but which one is that?”

“Brother to my fifth great-grandfather, I believe.”

“He looks like a soldier.”

“Colonel, yeah. Fought in the Napoleonic Wars. Come on.”

And so it went—him giving the shortest answer possible, me trying to drag more information out of him until he cut me off in pursuit of another direction.

“I’m not doing a very good job of hosting you, am I?” he said as he tugged me down another corridor. “First the paparazzi, then getting buried in paper, now this lousy tour.”

---