“I’d rather sleep.” She yawned as if to prove her point.
The woman worked too hard. Determined, I tugged harder. “Eat first. Then sleep.”
Hearing my tone, she groaned and pushed up off the bed. “Okay. But I hope you’re cooking.”
Chuckling, I hauled her onto her feet, copping a feel before I helped her into her robe. She only rolled her eyes again at my antics, but once I’d pulled on my jeans, she followed me downstairs, where I proceeded to force her to sit and do nothing while I made a pile of French toast for my woman.
My woman.
Three nights together and already she had me thinking that way.
I knew Aria wasn’t thinking that way.
This was just casual for her.
But I already knew it wasn’t casual for me.
I was hooked.
And in big fucking trouble.
Eighteen
ARIA
Icouldn’t remember the last time I’d floated into work in such a good mood. Worries over Allegra’s continued distance got shoved to the back of my mind. Not even the link my mother had sent me to a website for a new diet fad bothered me, and the million things I knew I had to do at work made me anticipate instead of dread it.
All because last night a generous man had made me feel beautiful and sexual, then fed me, then gave me another two orgasms before insisting on holding me as we fell asleep in bed together. I should have told North to go back to the castle, but it was raining and the truth was, I loved every minute of falling asleep in his arms. It didn’t mean anything other than I was appreciative. I’d permitted myself to enjoy North Hunter.
And I felt like a new woman.
North snuck into the castle first when we pulled up. I waited five minutes and strolled in on my cloud of happy. I beamed at Wakefield and called good morning to him. If my cheery greeting surprised the man, no one would know. Wakefield was the world’s best butler. He could keep a neutral expression through anything.
I’d barely settled into the office when he knocked on my door, bringing me my morning coffee. Beside the cup was a small plate. “Mrs. Hutchinson made her famous shortbread last night, and I took the liberty of procuring some for you.”
I grinned at Wakefield. “She forced you to bring it to me, didn’t she?”
“Yes, she did, Ms. Howard.”
Chuckling, I took the plate and coffee. “Thank you, Wakefield.”
“Very good, Ms. Howard.” He retreated from the office with a nod.
Eyeballing the shortbread, I murmured, “What the hell.” I’d burned calories last night. My skin heated remembering the way North had powered into me and the way I’d turned mindless and wanting beneath his hands. Never in a million years did I think I’d be able to get out of my head long enough to let go this much in bed. Honestly, it was more than a minor miracle. I didn’t think I could switch off like that for just anyone.
Making yummy noises as I ate my shortbread, I logged into my work inbox and swept over the subject lines of the first few emails. One caught my eye because it was from an address I didn’t recognize and the subject line wasUrgent: Ardnoch Estate Inquiry.
Clicking it open, it took my brain a second to catch up with my body because my heart was already racing with incredulity and anger.
The email read:
To Whom It May Concern,
It’s incumbent upon me to make you aware that your estate manager, Aria Howard, is an overweight smear on the reputation and image of such an illustrious club as Ardnoch.Nepotism is an ugly thing when it puts your reputation at stake. You may want to rethink the hiring of an intellectually deficient fat girl that Lucas Grant dumped. Rumor has it she’s as frigid as she is stupid. Not to mention superior, unfriendly, and a bitch to your members. If you want a fat, nasty moron running your estate, have at it. But I think we both know Ardnoch deserves better. We’re paying a lot for membership. Don’t you think we should get what we’re paying for?
Yours sincerely,
A Disgruntled Member
