The words roll off my tongue with pleasure because she’s right. Ordinarily, I would have demanded answers through violence if I must, and leaving my questions unanswered was a difficult judgment to make. The most important thing was getting Tiffany away from her sanctuary and into my form of hell, and so I let it slide, something that will be investigated as a matter of course when we return to London.
She turns away, and I resist the urge to force her conversation because, honestly, roughing up a woman of Godisn’t a great use of my time. Instead, I turn my attention to my phone, and an awkward silence rests between us.
After a while, she snaps, “Why am I going to London?”
“Because I live there.”
“And that affects me because…”
I say nothing because her disrespectful tone aggravates me, and she should not be rewarded for that.
She obviously doesn’t like being ignored, and her tone is sharp as she hisses, “I asked you a question.”
I shrug, my eyes not leaving my phone for a second.
“I asked you many questions, Tiffany, and you chose not to answer them, so why do you demand more from me?”
For a second she says nothing, and I almost forget about her until she sighs like a petulant child.
“Okay. You have a point; I’ll admit that. So, you ask me a question, and I’ll answer it on the understanding you will do the same.”
“I’m not a man who enjoys playing games, Tiffany. If I ask you a question, I expect an answer irrespective of your childish demands.”
Her sharp intake of breath reveals my words hit home, and quite frankly, I am already done with this entire situation. I’m not interested in verbal gymnastics with her. I ask, she answers, and that’s an end to it.
“You’re a difficult man.”
I say nothing because she’s not wrong there, and she obviously hates my indifference because she huffs, “Tell me why I’m going to London. Will I work for you, and if so, what is my job title?”
My silence is her answer, and she huffs with frustration.
“Answer me, God Damit.”
With a sigh, I pocket my phone and turn to stare at her, noting how her bravado withers under my dismissive glare.
“Your job—sister—is as my wife, and before you complain, I share your aversion to that.”
She is stunned. The fact that her eyes widen, and the blood drains from her face tells me she wasn’t expecting that. Hell, why would she?
Her mouth drops and words obviously desert her as she stares at me in horror.
Once again, I turn away because I’m already done with this. The sooner we are on my private jet and landing in London the better, because this day is probably the worst one I have endured for some time.
I leave her to deal with the shock and dash out a quick text to Spencer, my second in command.
No answer on the keys. I want a list of visitors to the convent in the last year. I also want any postal records, deliveries collected, and phone calls.
His quick response is expected.
I’m already on it.
I am donewith the conversation. Done with texts, done with my mission, and done with her. The sooner life returns to my kind of dark normal, the happier I’ll be.
CHAPTER 2
TIFFANY
Ican only focus on one word.
