Page 112 of The Grand Duel

Charles greets everyone at the table, introducing me as his cousin and giving me a stupidly shifty smile once sat beside me.

I can’t help but appreciate the change of mood.

“You’re a child.”

He leans in close to my ear, making my head turn into my shoulder as his breath tickles. “You started it.”

I roll my eyes and reach for the piece of card on the table in front of me.

“The charities,” I say, scanning the list and noting how varied they are. I smile up at Charles. “Do you know what’s being auctioned?”

“A boat.”

I sit forward in my seat. “I should have checked the list before coming,” I say to the woman beside me.

“You plan to bid?” Charles asks.

“Bid. Win. Same thing, I suppose. How big is the boat?”

“Seems we have a duel on our hands,” someone says from across the table.

“Seems so,” Charles mutters, his eyes not leaving me.

“I do love a charitable event.” I smile at him sweetly, loving how easy it is to rile him. I place my hand on his chest. “But, cousin, surely you know I’d never outbid you on the boat.”

TWENTY-TWO

Lissie

Ioutbid him on the boat.

I didn’t go into the auction with those intentions, but when he gave up at four hundred grand, I couldn’t sit back and watch him lose it.

Turns out the boat was the big-ticket item of the night.

The moment the announcer points across the room at me and declares the boat sold, he turns in his seat.

“Charles…”

“Don’t Charles me. Do you even have anywhere to moor it?”

“You said you have a lake.”

“My friends have a lake,” he corrects.

“Great. Put it there.”

“You do realise I’m not paying your dues on that thing? I’m all for charity, but you’ve just bid almost double its worth.” He turns back towards the now empty stage, his frustration at losing making my lips twitch. “Idiots.”

“Charles.”

He shakes his head as if he can’t even speak to me, let alone look at me.

“Charles.” I pull on his bicep, and he reluctantly turns. Leant forward in his space, I look up at him and ask, “Will you dance with me?”

He peers back over his shoulder. “No one is dancing.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Someone has to go first. Please.”