Ed huffs at that. “You love me really.”
“I’d love you more if you take another pair of my suit pants to the dry cleaners.”
He cocks an eyebrow as he glances down at my crotch. Grace may not have made me come in my pants, but I still made a mess. “That settles it, I’m definitely buying those boots.”
I’m about to head back to my office when Max rounds the corner and heads right for me, grim-faced. My guess is he’s been speaking to the Griffins. He’ll want to know why I didn’t tell him how Katarina’s latest power play had caused our abrupt return from Brimstage last night. I can feel the anger radiating off him. That’s why I didn’t tell him.
Chapter 14
Grace
My groan vibrates up my throat and spills over my lips after I swallow. When I open my eyes, Duke is watching me, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Are you faking it, Grace?”
I slurp another mouthful of coffee before I answer. “I’m just savoring the delicious coffee my boss made for me.” It’s nowhere near as good as Ed’s, but Duke knows that already.
We’ve made it through our second week without ripping each other’s clothes off, but with each passing day, my resolve has been weakening, making it harder for Duke to hold the line.
“I’m not your boss,” he says from behind his desk. He’s always more relaxed when there’s a solid piece of furniture between us.
“Then what are you?” I push. “I’m not going to start calling you my client.”
“Frustrated is what I am, Angel.”
“Three weeks, two days,” I say, wishing I had the same level of confidence as Duke when it comes tocounting down to his wedding day. What if the Griffins plan doesn’t work? What if they decide to withdraw their offer of help? Or Katarina backs out andmarriesDuke?
I don’t know what I’d do if that happened. Duke isn’t the only one who’s frustrated, and it’s not just sexual frustration. Granted, that’s the one that clangs loudest in my brain, but I’m also frustrated that I have to wait for my new life to begin. With Duke. Or without him if that’s how it has to be. Please let it bewith.
If Katarina sinks her claws any deeper into Duke, I’d have to leave Chicago. I don’t want to abandon him, but seeing them together would tear me apart.
Leaving the city would be a wrench too. I’m growing to love my new home. Ed had given me a tour of the sights last weekend and thought it hilarious when he signed us up for a Chicago Mobs walking tour. Afterwards, he’d made it up to me with a spa treatment and it hadn’t taken long to figure out that Duke was behind Ed’s apparent generosity.
I’d done my best to limit our spending, but we’d made several random purchases that were going to shock Duke’s accountant. We’d bought a mind-boggling collection of sex toys just so the store name would appear on his card statement.
As I adjust the hem of my tailored skirt over my thighs, I spot a ginger hair on my opaque tights. Sadly, it doesn’t belong to a Marmaduke, but a Marmalade. Ed’s cat. I’d stayed over at Ed’s and we’d spent Saturday evening vegetating in front of the TV with popcorn, tequila and endless reruns of Ru Paul’s Drag Race. By Sunday, the traitorous Marmalade was showing clear favoritism towards me and Ed was not happy that I’d stolen not onlyhis man, but his cat too. I don’t think he was joking.
“I have something for you,” I tell Duke, pulling a flashdrive from my jacket pocket. His eyes light up. “But first you have to promise to be very careful with it.”
“It’ll be locked in my desk at all times,” he says, extending his hand to receive his gift. “When not in use.”
“I’m more worried about your dry-cleaning bill.”
“You think I’m going to jerk off in here listening to it?”
Standing up, I lean over the desk and dangle the flash drive over his waiting palm. “I know you will.”
It’s Duke’s turn to groan, and now I’m the one imagining him fisting his cock. Only he’s not alone. I’m lying on a hotel bedroom floor and he’s painting me with his cum. I swallow loudly.
Duke tugs the flash drive from my grasp. “Sit back down, Grace before you spontaneously combust,” he says firmly. He locks the flash drive in his desk drawer while I retreat to my seat. “So, what’s on the agenda today, Mrs. Hamel?”
We’ve actually made good progress on Corbyn House. There are a few walls in the proposed design that need repositioning so we retain more of the original features, and I’m working through an inventory of all the original furniture and furnishings to see what we can repurpose. I’m also in discussions with the Moncriefs’ landscape gardeners about reestablishing the original gardens.
“I could set up a team meeting next week,” I suggest after we’ve gone through all the points and clarifications I need from Duke.
“A meeting with who?”
Duke does this every time I suggest bringing other people into our meetings. He doesn’t like to share. “Me, you, Noah, the landscaper,” I say, counting them off on my fingers. I tap my little finger last, doing my best to hold back the smile before listing the fifthname. “And Olly.”
