Page 4 of Arrogant Heir
‘I don’t follow,’ I say, feeling a slow burn spread over my cold cheeks. ‘In what way?’
I notice a playful expression cross his grandfather’s face as I cast a confused glance at him.
‘It seems there’s been a mix up,’ Arthur says, shaking his head. ‘The agency sent your name through, and I just presumed you would be a man.’ Arthur rises and excuses himself. ‘Anyway, no harm, no foul. I’m sure Jamie will do us proud. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted. Remember your manners, please, Damian.’
Arthur is speedy for an octogenarian and after smiling at me reassuringly, he exits the library with Honey at his heels and I’m left to the mercy of Damian, who looks like he’d rather be just about anywhere else in the world than right here with me.
He releases a deep, measured sigh and then steps closer, and I notice how he towers above me. He must be well over six feet to my petite five-foot-five. ‘Jamie Jackson,’ he snaps. ‘Do you use a name like that so people will think you’re a man? Have you found it’s better for business?’
I blink and feel my redhead’s infamous temper stirring. I may be small, but I will not be bullied by anyone. Not even by an arrogant billionaire. He’s sneering at me as he speaks.What the hell!
I take a breath to calm myself. ‘No,’ I say, enunciating the words as though talking to a two-year-old. I flick a flaming lock of red hair out of my eyes from where it’s fallen and I face him head on, albeit craning my neck even in high heels, to make eye contact. ‘I’m not sure what you are insinuating, Mr Rochester, but Jamie Jackson is my name. My one and only name. It’s not some kind of pseudonym designed to trick clients into working with me.’
He looks down at me from his great height and I see a slight smirk cross his highly defined lips. Despite my anger, I feel a purely physical response to his raw, masculine beauty rip through me.
What a shame he’s such a dick.
‘I’m not insinuating anything, Ms Jackson,’ he says. ‘I’m merely asking a question.’
His green eyes flash and bore into mine, but something inside me refuses to back down, so I stare right back at him. My skin prickles as the blood rushes to my head.
‘Two questions,’ I say.
‘What?’
‘Two questions,’ I repeat, still talking like he’s a two-year-old, albeit a tall, forbidding one.
I never know when to shut up.
‘Ah, I see you have a writer’s attention to detail. Good, very good. I suppose we need that.’ He glances at his Rolex watch. ‘I propose we reconvene tomorrow when you’ve had a chance to settle in. I trust everything is to your liking?’
My throat feels like it's sandpaper. His sudden change of tack has me confused. I pull myself up to my full height. ‘Given your obvious disdain for female writers, you’ll be relieved to hear there’s no need for you to attend the sessions. I’ll get most of what I need from your grandfather, and if I need to fill in any gaps, I can always send you an email.’
He stares at me, and his black eyebrow flicks up again and his green eyes glitter, the remnants of the smirk still on his shapely lips.
‘Have I amused you somehow?’ I ask. It’s all I can do not to put my hands on my hips, but I restrain myself and try to act as though he’s not got right under my skin. As if I deal with arrogant billionaire-heirs like him every day and am not at all intimidated.
‘Amused me? No, not amused me, Ms Jackson. Or is it Miss Jackson?’ He shakes his head. ‘I fear the joke is on both of us.’
‘Ms Jackson,’ I reply, my voice curt. ‘What do you mean, the joke’s on us?’ Now it’s my turn to snap. My heart is pounding so hard I can barely think as I wait for his response. I know in my bones it will not be one I want to hear.
‘Sorry to break the news to you, but you’ll be working with me on the book.’
I stutter, ‘But there must be some mistake.’
‘When I said something along those lines, you took great exception to it.’
‘But what about your grandfather? I understood I’d be working with him.’
His green eyes narrow and I get a sense he’s enjoying my extreme discomfort, like a cat flicking a mouse around in its giant paws. ‘No, I’m afraid not. Grandfather assigned the book to me. Believe me, I did my best to get out of it. Says he’s too old to spearhead such an important project, and he’s passing the baton to the next generation. As I’m head of Media at Rochesters & Co, you’re stuck with me for three months. Is that going to be a problem,MsJackson?’
CHAPTER4
Jamie
As soon as our meeting is over, I have to physically stop myself racing out of the room. Once I escape the prying eyes of the staff and exit the house, I scramble back up the gravel path in my death-trap heels, praying I don’t come a cropper. God knows what possessed me to wear them to a country estate. I take it as a sign I’ve been living in London for too long.
I tear right past the pretty pond; the beauty of my surroundings barely registers as my conversation with Damian plays on repeat in my head like one of my mum’s warped old records she plays on her nostalgia-fests.