I nod. “I read about how it all started when your father bought a vintage Waterman pen from a street vendor during your parents’ honeymoon in Paris.”
Veil stops walking and turns to look at me, and I nearly run into him because I wasn’t expecting the sudden stop. “You did your homework,” he says, and I can’t tell if he’s impressed or just surprised.
I’m not sure how to answer that. Aren’t we all supposed to do our research before accepting a job offer?
But anyway...
I don’t think he’s interested to hear what I have to say since we’re moving again, with the duke leading me down a hallway lined with more expensive artwork.
We stop in front of a door, and he opens it, stepping aside to let me enter first. As expected, the room is just like the rest of the place. Beautiful and elegant and charmingly classic: a four-poster bed with cream linens and a sitting area with a fireplace, an en-suite bathroom visible through an open door, and windows that look out over what I assume are the estate grounds.
“This is too much,” I hear myself say.
Veil sets my carry-on down near the door. “It’s the smallest guest room we have.”
Oh. Okay. I guess that puts me in my place?
“Mother said you had a difficult day.”
Since I didn’t see her signing that earlier, does that mean she texted him while we were still on the plane?
“I—yes. But I’m fine. Ready to work.”
Those blue eyes study me again, and I have the uncomfortable feeling that he can see right through my professional mask to the mess underneath.
“I’m glad to hear that.” The way he says it is almost mocking, but once again, I have no chance of replying. He just gives me a clipped nod right after, and then he’s gone, the door closing behind him while I’m left standing in this beautiful room wondering what just happened.
Does the duke think I’m going to throw myself at him?
He does, isn’t he?
But then...
Lady Hampton did say it’s what all her former assistants have apparently done so can I really blame him for being suspicious of me?
I sink down onto the edge of the bed and pull out my phone.
Seven missed calls from Joseph.
Twelve text messages.
I turn my phone off and set it on the nightstand. Then I pull Joseph’s ring out of my pocket and set it next to the phone.
Tomorrow, I’ll figure out what to do with both of them.
Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to tell Joseph I know.
Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to survive working in close proximity to the Duke of Veilcourt without making a complete fool of myself.
But tonight?
Tonight, I’m going to take a shower.
And try not to cry.
And definitely, absolutely, under no circumstances think about how blue Veil’s eyes are.
Note to self: breathing while in proximity to attractive dukes is important.
