Page 27 of Arrogant Heir
He’s not what I thought at all. If he’s a playboy, he’s not doing much playing. He hasn’t come onto me, either, and apart from the few days when he stayed in London, he’s been here the whole time. And he works like a demon, from early till late at night. Occasionally, he jumps into one of his sleek sports cars and roars down the drive, but other than that, all he seems to do is work and work-out. He’s never gone long, so I guess he drives into Winchester.
‘Do you do anything but work?’ I ask him when we take a short break to drink the tea Alice brought us.
‘Yes. I told you I work out.’
‘That still has the word work in it,’ I say, tilting my head to the side as I study him. I enjoy teasing him and I do it more and more.
‘I’m aware,’ he says, raising the infamous dark eyebrow and appraising me with challenging eyes. ‘What else would you have me do?’
It takes me a few seconds to reply. ‘I don’t know, but all you do is work. It can’t be good for you.’
‘You sound like my mother,’ he says, biting into a biscuit, and brushing the crumbs off his white shirt.
I smile. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘Well, I love my work. We’re in an expansion phase and sometimes you need to run with it. Besides, I can rest when I’m dead,’ he says, a sardonic expression playing over the firm lines of his face. ‘I travel sometimes. Does that count as fun?’
My stomach lurches and I’m too nervous to eat, so I decline the offer of a biscuit. His shirt sleeves are rolled up his chiselled forearms and his Rolex gleams on his smooth wrist.
‘You tell me,’ I say. ‘Does it?’
He laughs. It’s one of his rare proper laughs and I glow with joy.I make arrogant, grumpy Mr Rochester laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’ I ask, not wanting the moment to pass.
‘You,’ he says, meeting my eyes.
My breath snags in my chest and I sit unmoving, waiting for him to continue.
‘You love to ask me personal questions. People don’t usually dare.’
I slowly release my breath. ‘Because people are frightened of you.’
He laughs again, but this time the laugh is like a hollow bark. ‘That’s ridiculous.’
I stay silent. I’ve learnt that the best way to open him up is to let him dig his own hole. He doesn’t say things without backing them up.
Sipping my tea, I continue looking at him.
He moves in his chair. ‘You really think people are frightened of me?’
I nod. ‘You are quite forbidding and don’t entertain fools.’
‘That’s true. I’ve certainly no time for fools. But just because we got off on the wrong foot, and you weren’t instantly charmed, doesn’t mean everyone feels that way.’
‘I bet if you asked any of your staff, they’d say they do everything they can to avoid displeasing you.’
His face falls and my heart twists.Have I gone too far? Does he really not know how formidable he is?
He sits back in his chair, and I detect a hint of the old arrogance. ‘I confess I didn’t know that, Ms Jackson. I suppose I should thank you for telling me. I shall try to be less “forbidding”, as you put it. Although, I could argue that people try hard to please me and don’t bother me with their nonsense, which is exactly how I like it.’
‘I know your staff are loyal. At least the ones here at Greystone. I’m just curious why you don’t allow yourself to have more fun.’
‘I have plenty of fun. Business is fun for me.’ He drains his cup. ‘Although why I’m rationalising my behaviour to you, I do not know. You seem to have an uncanny ability to get me to divulge things I don’t tell anyone else!’
Now it’s my turn to laugh. ‘That’s my job. What kind of ghostwriter would I be if I didn’t get into the truth of who you are and what makes you tick?’
‘Um. Now we’ve established I’m not sexist I can tell you that is exactly why I wanted a male writer. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t dare interrogate me in the manner you do.’