Page 42 of Arrogant Heir
‘I thought as you’ve had the misfortune to be caught up in it with Damian, you’re better qualified than any of his young whipper-snappers to know what to say.’
His language is colourful and the writer in me appreciates it, and I laugh again. ‘I’ll be happy to help in any way I can. Is it okay if I take the papers back to the cottage and come up with something there?’
He asks me to show it to Damian when I’ve come up with something and says Damian will see that it gets into the right hands.
Just as I’m about to leave, an apricot bundle of gorgeousness bounds into the room and jumps up at Arthur, licking his face in squealing ecstasy.
‘Okay, okay,’ he says, after a while, patting the cockapoo.
Honey whimpers and finally calms down, and then approaches me, tail wagging, her mouth turned upwards like a smile.
‘She likes you. Looks like you’re a hit with another Rochester,’ says Arthur, with a wry smile.
I bend down and stroke her curly head, and she throws herself onto her back and quivers with delight on the rug as I tickle her pink tummy.
CHAPTER27
Damian
The run helped to calm my agitation, and I did an extra five miles to really feel the burn. While some people work out for fun, I work out as self-flagellation. If it doesn’t hurt, I’m not doing it hard enough.
Running round the outskirts of the estate and down to Greystone village reminded me of all I have to lose if I blow the terms of my inheritance. Grandfather can be a tough nut, and although there was an element of jest in his words about skipping me for Sebastian as the primary heir, I know he hasn’t dismissed the idea entirely.
After father died and Stephanie left, I went into such a decline and sabotaged myself to such a degree that eventually he warned me I was in violation of the agreed terms of his will. I must show I’m worthy of the great Rochester name and estate if I’m to inherit, and he told me I was failing and would be left with only my trust fund if I didn’t get my act together.
That’s when I put an end to the celebrity parties and turned my energy to work. Since then, I’ve been promoted to CEO of Rochester Media and the figures show I’m doing an excellent job.
But as Grandfather has told me repeatedly, it’s not only about profits. If the Rochester dynasty, as he likes to call it, is to continue to flourish, we must protect our family name and reputation at all costs. And I’ve gone and screwed things up again.Literally.
Caspian texted me earlier to confirm he has some potential candidates to fulfil my ‘needs’. I can’t afford any more unvetted dangerous liaisons with women at clubs, no matter how exclusive, and I am seriously considering making an arrangement with a suitable woman. I’m horny as hell, so it has to be someone I fancy. And not just fancy for a one-night stand, but someone I’d want to fuck repeatedly, or it won’t work.
I stare out the window at the swaying oak tree and wonder if such a woman exists. She needs to be stunning, elegant, smart, and know how to handle herself in society. I’d want her to be my date for company and business events, and the media would need to buy that we’re a genuine couple. This rules out anyone who isn’t used to schmoozing with big city types or they’ll see through our arrangement in a second. Some guys of my status even go so far as to pretend to be engaged to get their families and the media off their backs, but the taste of that is bitter and turns my mouth to ashes.
No, a fake girlfriend is what I need, and fake dates with benefits will be just the thing. I don’t want to consider how I’m going to fulfil Grandfather’s criteria of a suitable marriage approved by him. I must take it one step at a time.
There’s been no proper girlfriend since Stephanie, and I don’t think I’ve even had a proper date. It’s only been hook-ups at parties or clubs with no expectation or commitment. In truth, it suits me perfectly. The idea of trusting someone with my heart again turns me cold.
So, this fake girlfriend is going to have to meet all my previously mentioned criteria, but in addition, there can’t be any chance of me falling for her. I’ll make it clear in the arrangement and have legal papers drawn up by one of my own lawyers. Grandfather can’t know, or it will ruin the effect, so I won’t risk him finding out. He’s old-fashioned and would never approve, so the whole thing would go to shit if he learnt of it. Only Caspian—and the girl—can know, and I trust him with my life.
Seb and I have too much rivalry going on, largely due to Grandfather playing us off one against the other, so I can’t let him in on it. He probably wouldn’t say anything, but if things get difficult between us again, you never know if he might let it slip in a moment of anger.
I reply to Caspian and tell him to go ahead. I need a date for the annual Rochester Charity Ball at our hotel in London, so what better opportunity to try out a fake girlfriend and see if she passes the test?
Yes, this fake girlfriend is going to have to be smart or she won’t stand a chance when I introduce her to the family. My sisters will be all over her like a rash, quizzing her, no doubt. Marian is super protective, and we have a special bond with me being her eldest brother.
Not that I could stand being with a dullard for more than one night. She’s going to have to be quick-witted or I won’t want to fuck her regularly anyway and will look elsewhere, which will defeat the point of it all.
When I texted my detailed criteria to Caspian, he replied with an eye-roll emoji.
I know I have high standards, but what’s the point of settling for anything less than I want?
Caspian is calling me later to give me a run-down of the girls he has in mind. It’s not as seedy as it sounds, and it’s perfectly legal. The girls who sign up for this kind of arrangement do so because it suits them too. They are handsomely paid, treated well, live in luxury accommodation (there’s no way my fake girlfriend is moving into my Chelsea haven) and have everything they could ever want. Except love, of course. If they want love, they’ll need to look elsewhere and end the arrangement because another of the criteria is they must have sex only with me. It’s not as tyrannical as it sounds because I intend to only have sex with them. The media will catch us out in a heartbeat if we sleep around, and besides, I’m not sharing a woman. Sexual diseases are not on the menu, thank you.
Oh, and did I mention she needs to be sexy? My assistant is so efficient and loyal I could trust her to find me a fake girlfriend, but women rarely understand what makes a woman sexy to a man. They like pretty women, but as all men know, a pretty or even stunning woman does not guarantee a hottie between the sheets. Sex appeal and sexual know-how, combined with all my other criteria, are a tall order. I understand that, but if it takes me a year to find the right woman, then I’m okay with that. It’s a tiresome task, but as I have no intention of marrying any time soon, I see it is my only option. I can’t keep pissing off Grandfather, and I refuse to be celibate, so fake girlfriend it is.
My lack of sleep is catching up with me and my eyelids droop as I lie on the sofa, considering my ideal fake girlfriend.
Just as I’m drifting off to sleep, Jamie’s face hijacks my thoughts again and I imagine her as my girlfriend. She’s such a hit with Grandfather and the rest of the family. I feel sure he would approve, although he’d be gunning for me to marry her for real. What is it about Jamie that attracts me so? I’ve asked myself this so many times since I started lusting after her. And I still don’t have a sensible answer.