Page 17 of Arrogant Heir
As he says the words, my stomach growls in response and we both smile.
‘Honestly, I was so into writing I forgot to eat. Not that I’ll starve. The kitchen is so well stocked it would see me through a war.’
He throws his head back and laughs. He is much more carefree than Damian. ‘You’ve noticed, we don’t do things in half-measures around here, then. That’s the Rochester way. I think it comes from grandfather being of modest means as a child. For as long as I can recall, we’ve always done things in a big way.’
‘How inspiring,’ I say. ‘Most people do things in such a small way. I don’t get bored, but I get hungry as you can hear! What have you got in mind?’
‘I’m going to have supper with my mother, and you are very welcome to join us. She was telling me how you two hit it off, and to invite you over.’
I feel my cheeks flush at the compliment. ‘How kind. Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding on your catch up?’
He assures me they’ve already attended to their business and would love to have me.
‘Am I okay to come like this?’ I say, pointing to the casual outfit I changed into earlier. ‘Or should I dress for dinner?’
‘No, no need,’ he says. ‘We only dress for dinner when it’s an occasion like yesterday. I’m still in my suit because I drove straight here from the office.’
I close my laptop, casting a regretful look at my half-written first chapter, and then flick off the lights before we head out the door. Sebastian puts his hand on the small of my back, making sure I don’t lose my footing as we exit the cottage.
I find myself thinking he could be an excellent source of inspiration for my romantic hero. Gallant, handsome, thoughtful,anda billionaire. What a recipe for the perfect book boyfriend. I giggle at my cheeky thought, and he looks at me curiously.
‘You alright?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Never better.’
I wonder whether Damian will join us too, but I don’t ask.
We walk over to the house, and I spend my second evening in the company of the Rochesters at Greystone Manor.
CHAPTER13
Damian
The club is heaving tonight, and I head out to the terrace for some fresh air. It took ages for Caspian to organise our night out. He’s terribly distracted lately. And I’m finally here, but I can’t get into it in the same way I usually do.
Seb left early, claiming an important meeting first thing and needing to get some sleep, and then Caspian left too, which is most unlike him.
I’m on my own and don’t feel inclined to seek female company, but I’m not keen to return to my empty Chelsea flat. It must be because I’ve grown used to staying at Greystone so much since the gazelle arrived.
A few hot girls have expressed interest and by now I’d usually have bought at least one of them a drink and be selecting whose lucky night it is. But I’m surprised to find I feel just as restless as I have for weeks. I may as well have stayed at Greystone and done some work.
My thoughts flit back to Jamie Jackson, and I shake my head irritably. What is it with me and her? I keep thinking of her even when she’s not around, and it makes no sense whatsoever. She’s not the kind of woman I usually go for, and even if she were, she’s unavailable.
Grandfather mentioned she’s engaged. I wonder what kind of man lets a woman like her out of his sight for this long. She’s been at Greystone for a while now, and as far as I’m aware, her elusive—stupid—fiancé hasn’t visited. Something doesn’t seem quite right, but I can’t put my finger on it.
I’ve been having unpredictable reactions to her since day one. Not only does she sexually arouse me without the slightest effort, which makes it awkward for me to concentrate on the book. But I find myself more and more drawn to her despite the dreadful clash at our first meeting. She’s bright and engaging and somehow penetrates even my thick layer of protection. She extracts personal details about the business and family which I would normally rather die than share.
She’s clearly off-limits, so I need to get a grip. Even if she wasn’t engaged, I can’t get involved with the girl my grandfather hired to write our family biography! I see he’s taken to her, but he’d disapprove and say I’m living up to my playboy reputation.
Besides, she doesn’t like meat all.I can see that although she’s professionally dedicated to us producing a book together, she avoids me when it comes to anything personal. She clearly still dislikes me after the unfortunate misunderstanding on her first day. She’s doing her best to put it behind us for the book, but she may as well wear a fluorescent sign on her forehead saying:Stay away from me.
I think about one of our sessions where she asked me to tell her about the day I became heir to the Rochester fortune. Her copper-red hair shone in the bright morning sunshine, and her reading glasses were perched on her small, freckled nose in the sexiest of ways. She’s earnest when she interviews me, and it’s obvious the job really matters to her.
I can’t believe I was so rude to her when she arrived, and it’s a credit to her professionalism that she hasn’t let it derail her from doing the work. Thanks to my starchy attitude, she doesn’t let her guard drop around me, and I’m so used to being formal with staff that I don’t encourage it. But I yearn for something more and wake up in the night thinking about her.
Sebastian came home again the other day. He clearly fancies her, and she seems to like him. He mentioned they’ve been out for coffee in Winchester, which makes me question the fiancé situation again. I asked him if anything’s going on between them and warned him to tread carefully, telling him she’s engaged, but he just laughed and shrugged it off. ‘Chill out, big brother. She’s all alone here and I don’t expect you to take time off to keep her company, but somebody has to show her a bit of Rochester hospitality. Wouldn’t you agree?’
I didn’t.I worry about Seb and hope he isn’t getting in too deep. That’s what I tell myself, anyway, even as an intense poisonous emotion I haven’t felt in a long time courses through me at the image of them together.