“Thank you, Grandfather,” Nate said, and they shook hands.
Theirs was a very different relationship from the one I had with my gramps. Yet again, I was thankful I hadn’t been born a Mortimer.
Bim looked at me. “You’re one of the Teagues.” It wasn’t a question.
“Alex Teague,” Nate filled in, and I nodded very politely at the old dragon, who had more presence than anyone I’d ever met. To my amazement, he inclined his head to me in what looked remarkably like respect.
“I should like to meet the head of your family before much longer,” he said. “Nate, see that you arrange that for us.”
Taylor came forward bearing Bim’s overcoat, a hat, and a silk scarf. Once he’d put them on, he looked like something from a black-and-white film. I’d never seen anyone dress that way in real life.
With a word of thanks to Taylor, he left. There was a big cream car waiting at the end of the path, and an actual uniformed chauffeur got out to open the car door.
“Blimey,” I said, lost for words.
Nate turned to me, his face full of laughter. “He does have that effect on people,” he admitted. “I’m going to need to book a hotel. Would you—”
“Hell, yes.” As if he thought I’d move an inch from his side until I knew for sure he was okay. And probably for some considerable time after that.
When I said goodbye to Mr Taylor, I realised I should have packed my stuff as well as Nate’s. It was too late for that now—I didn’t want to spend another instant in this house when James and Steven were still in it, not now Bim had gone.
“You’re rich. You’ll buy me clean underwear, won’t you?” I checked with Nate.
“I’ll buy you whatever you want, but are you going to need it? I’m hoping you’ll spend the rest of the week in bed with me.”
Mr Taylor turned smartly on his heel and disappeared down the hallway. Somehow, I kept from laughing until we were out of the door and waiting for our Uber. I didn’t know what had happened to the properly behaved banker I’d first met, but I much preferred this Nate, relaxed and happy.
“I think we’re going to have to buy him a whole greenhouse to make up for scarring him like that,” I said, leaning in to nuzzle against Nate’s jaw. “God, I love you.”
When he froze, I realised what I’d said. For an instant, I forgot this was Nate, and I waited for the world to end.
He drew back to look at me. Joy was in his eyes, such blazing joy that I wanted to keep the memory forever so that on grey days, I could paint the sky with it.
“Alex,” he said, his voice choked, and the Uber pulled up.
Chapter Thirty-one
NATE
In our room, with the door safely locked, Alex drew his phone out. “I need to let Margaret know before I do anything else. I don’t want her walking blindly into that.”
While he was typing, I headed for the very large, very comfortable-looking bed. The pillows were just the right height, just the right softness. I was already drifting off when Alex’s phone rang. Margaret’s voice was clearly audible across the room.
“Alexander Teague, what thehellhave you done now?”
I fell asleep listening to a sheepish-sounding Alex explaining to his aunt what had just happened.
When I awoke, Alex was kneeling beside me on the bed, holding my hand. Well, he actually appeared to be holding my wrist, which was odd.
“Are you taking my pulse?”
He bit his lower lip before he let go and glanced self-consciously at me. “You scared me earlier. I was just checking that you were sleeping and nothing worse.”
“Hey.” I dragged him down beside me, and we lay looking at one another. His eyes were warm and worried. “I’m fine. Though I’d like to know what happened between me ungracefully passing out and waking up to find you and James there.”
Alex filled me in and wanted to know how the Fortescues had found out about my investigation.
“It was my own stupid fault,” I admitted. “I said something to Ella to hammer home why Charlie had to get help, and I wrongly thought I’d got away with it. My guess is she went to Steven to verify her belief that Charlie would never be disinherited.” I rubbed my forehead. God, Ella. “I’ve blown up her family and her entire life,” I said. “She was crying yesterday over Charlie. What she’ll make of this…”
