I totally liked this guy.
“Even if she deserves it?” I asked.
“Even if that, Vivi. Chelsea is who her mother and father made her. In a sense, it isn’t her fault. She genuinely does not understand a world where she doesn’t get everything she wants.”
At least that explained why he’d been so patient with her through all he’d described she was pulling last night.
“Well, it’s time she was introduced to it,” I retorted. “Or she’s going to be even more disappointed sometime in the future. I’m just sorry you were pushed into the position to have to teach her that lesson.”
“And I’m sorry you had to watch it happen.”
“I’m not.” I grinned. “It was kind of rad.”
With that, everything about him changed, in the sense I was both thrilled and terrified that in about two seconds, he was going to be fucking me on the desk.
We stared at each other, the heat blistering between us, and this lasted so long, I was both thrilled and terrified that it was going to be me who jumped him.
To my utter dejection, he broke the spell by asking, “Did you learn more about Harmony?”
I had a new obsession with finding out what went down with Harmony.
But I was more obsessed with jumping him, or better, him jumping me.
Alas, all I could do was say, “Just to confirm that Marie’s entry corresponds with Harmony breaking things off with Charlie.”
“Pity,” he murmured.
“Battle—”
I was going to ask what was going on here.
Or request he confirm what seemed obvious was going on was actually obvious it was going on and then discuss what we were going to do about it.
But he said, “I’ve asked you to cut into your research time, so now, I won’t take more of it. I’ll see you at tea.”
He might have said that.
But me?
I was heartily over it.
So when he hit the door, I snapped, “I think, my Lord Duke, you’re a massive tease.”
He turned, seared me with a look so hot, I one hundred percent creamed my panties, and purred, “Darling, you’ve no idea.”
I blinked.
He walked out of the studio.
CHAPTER 13
THE CALL
I swam out of sleep Wednesday morning, bleary-eyed and still tired, to what appeared to be a day struggling to be sunny in England, with Snowball, Gingerface and Prue’s (but really Chassie’s) long-haired, white and gray tiger-striped cat, Floofy, hanging with me.
I’d met Floofy last night while I was teaching the girls how to play euchre in the games room.
Tempie was vicious, gloating with every trick she took.
