‘I suppose we’ll never know. She was killed in a car accident the year before.’
‘Oh, Rory. I’m so sorry.’
‘Not your fault,’ I reply gruffly as, grasping her fingers tight, I press them between both my hands.
‘It’s just such a shitty position to be in. Losing your mom and having to deal with your father, and then being sent to do work on the house that’s rightfully yours. It’s not fair. Couldn’t you have refused the job?’
For a split second I’m lost, still basking like a cat in her warm gaze.In her empathy. ‘Ah, well, that brings us to item number two,’ I reply, resisting the supreme urge to run a hand through my hair. ‘The big house. I don’t suppose I’ve told you my name—my surname?’ She shakes her head as I touch my chest and say, ‘Rory Tremaine.’
‘I don’t think I understand.’
‘And the house is rightfully mine now. At least, the mortgage is.’
‘The mortgage? You... bought it?’
‘We did. It went up for auction and Kit and I snapped it up. Two point four mil... and a few hundred grand to fix it up.’
‘I must be in the wrong business.’ She looks stunned, words simply falling from her mouth. ‘Do gardeners get paid that kind of money?’
‘Which brings me neatly to number three, is it?’ I haven’t been keeping count. ‘Aye, number three. A gardener,yes,’ I say, drawing the word out, attempting to restrain my expression.‘Kit prefers the term landscape architect.This is my brother, the landscape architect.’She doesn’t smile at my take on his pompous-ass tone. ‘But jointly, we also own a fair bit of property and a couple hotels. And that sounds more monopoly mogul than it actually is.’ My laughter seems hollow, especially as she tries to retract her hand.
Tries. Doesn’t succeed.
‘You lied—why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Well, I’m no’ in the habit of telling virtual strangers my net worth. And then there’s the wee matter of you saying you wouldn’t screw a rich bloke. I’m no Rockefeller, but I do all right. I wasn’t going to let that little fact put you off that night.’
‘Even though you thought I was a whore?’ Her lips quiver; I’m taking it as an embryonic smile—counting it as a win.
‘I did not. But in my defence, that first night, you weren’t making a lot of sense.’Who brings up the topic of money when talking about fucking, other than a hooker, maybe?
‘So you lied.’
‘Basically.’ I accompany this with a brief shrug. ‘More like stretched the truth.’
‘You’re so brazen,’ she says on the breath of a laugh.A stunned laugh.She’s definitely still processing, but now is the time; I strike quick.
‘Guilty as charged. But my guess would be... this truth stretching? I don’t think I’m alone.’
As she levels her gaze on mine, she no longer looks stunned, but eerily calm, her expression as blank as any mask.And as unnerving as all fuck.
‘Trust me,’ she says ominously. ‘You really don’t want to know.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong.’ I squeeze her hand a little tighter. Hopefully, it conveys reassurance, rather than a kind ofI’m-gonna-break-your-hand-if-you-don’t-spit-it-out-now. ‘But I can wait. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.’
