Max chuckles. “The Larsens will establish massive wind farms across England—they need someone with the landholdings and government connections to make it happen. And in return, they’re essentially funding the Harrington lifestyle and modernizing their entire operation.”
“And poor Freya gets sacrificed for the cause? I feel like she pulled the short end of the stick in this arrangement,” I say, disgusted. Another thought hits me. “Then again, maybe Alexander has a giant penis.”
“He certainly seems more interested in flirting with other women than honoring his arrangement,” Max grinds out.
“Can’t say I blame him,” I defend. “God, I couldn’t imagine not having a say in who sticks their dick in me for the rest of my life.”
“Ms. Clarke, Mr. Browne,” Natalie interrupts gently, “if you’ll kindly follow me this way, I’ll show you to the viewing gallery.”
Max’s hand rests against the curve of my lower back once again as we step behind Natalie. We’re alone in the corridor, so there isn’t any need for him to be touching me.
I think about what April said last night, that I can’t carry the responsibility and repercussions of Todd refusing to show up for me. That I can and should let someone in. That I deserve to feel something, to allow myself to experience connection without assuming it will end in disappointment and hurt.
I’m not sure April understands what it’s like to open yourself completely to someone, to show them your darkest and most vulnerable parts, only to have them look at you with disgust. To have the person you love tell you your desires are abnormal and refuse to meet you. To have that person make you feel like there’s something fundamentally wrong with you for wanting what you want and not being able to help it. But she’s right—I should give Max a chance. I deserve it, even if it is short-lived.
Todd made me feel broken when all I wanted was to be seen. Isn’t that what any woman wants? I think Max sees me.
Instead of dismissing him, I lean into Max’s touch, allowing myself to enjoy it. Whatever might be chasing Max from his past, right now his attention is fixed firmly on me. Maybe this is exactly where I want it to be.
Chapter Forty-Two
Max
It took everything in me not to tell the Harrington twat to keep his eyes off Gemma. His blatant flirting was unsavory and unprofessional. I understand Grayson is rather fond of him, but I have no connection to the wanker, so as far as I’m concerned, he can piss right off.
I saw red the moment his lips grazed Gemma’s skin.
I’ve been friends with Grayson long enough to see how men like him operate, using their position, their wealth, their lineage to stake claims on whatever they want.
The reckless side of me wanted to press her against one of his ostentatious walls and make it abundantly clear that she’smine.
Natalie leads us through a labyrinth of corridors, each wall decorated and lined with impressive artwork. I bet some of these pieces are worth millions.
I press my hand gently against Gemma’s lower back. She leans into it, not moving away, which is a relief. I’m glad she isn’t angry about Casey’s text, because I’m carrying enough fury for us both.
The moment her name appeared on the dash, a rush of agitation ignited in my chest. I don’t know what else I’msupposed to do. I don’t want to have to change my bloody number because my ex won’t leave me alone. I have too many work connections to do that. She better not make this a habit.
I blocked the number as soon as I stepped out of the car. I saw the shift in Gemma’s body language. The tension in the air was suffocating, but I’m relieved she believed me.
“The viewing gallery is through here,” Natalie says, gesturing toward a set of double doors. “Lord Harrington had everything arranged this morning when he heard you were coming.”
Of course he did.
Natalie pushes open the doors to a wide, well-lit space with paintings aligned on tall, pitched walls and propped on easels.
“He thought these might be best suited for Gray Hotel,” she says.
“Thank you.” Gemma smiles appreciatively.
Natalie dips her chin. “I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, I’ll be in the sitting room.”
Natalie exits silently and Gemma releases a low whistle, spinning slowly. “Wow, these are amazing.”
“They’re okay,” I say, shrugging.
Gemma stalks toward me slowly, and my gaze drops to the way her hips sway with each step. “Oh, come on, evenyouhave to admit this is impressive.”
When she’s within reach, I loop my arm around her waist and pull her in. She collides with my chest with a light gasp.
