Page 69 of Duke It Out
Anna gives a low whistle. “That man needs a massage. I’ve never seen anyone so tense.”
I stiffen but say nothing, clutching my flat white with a death grip.
“When you’ve finished entertaining, Edie,” he says curtly, a moment later, “I would like a word in my office.”
Anna collapses back against her chair and pretends to fan herself as the door bangs shut.
“My god,” she says, rolling her eyes yet again. “See me in my office.”
“It’s a job,” I say firmly. “One that’s paying my rent to you.”
That seems to do the trick.
I park round the back of the castle and grab the bag of pastries to hand out in the kitchen. I don’t know what’s up with Rory, but I’ve got a whole herd of butterflies in heavy boots dancing about in my stomach as we go in via the backdoor, Anna taking little interest in the walled kitchen garden as we pass through on our way.
There’s nobody in the kitchen, so I leave the bag on the worktop. Anna heads upstairs and I brace myself and set off to beard the lion in his den.
The door to his office is already open. I’ve only been in once before – most of the time I’ve been here Rory seems to have done his work from one of the big desks in the library. It’s dominated by an enormous oak desk with two huge Apple monitors and a massive leather chair. In the corner there’s a sofa where the two dogs are snoozing, curled up on a folded tartan blanket. It’s very minimal, very understated upper class, and very definitely masculine.
He looks up from a sheaf of papers, the expression on his face unreadable. “Close the door.”
I do, and then stand awkwardly, because he hasn’t offered me a seat.
“Is she staying long?”
“Anna?”
He looks at me briefly and his expression makes it clear that the question wasn’t needed.
“A few days. Jamie was here when she—” I contemplate choosing my words carefully, then decide against it. “When she invited herself.”
Rory closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a low groan. “She’s not exactly… subtle.”
“And you’re not exactly friendly.” The words escape before I can stop them. His mouth twitches, but it doesn’t become a smile. “You wanted to see me?”
I shift my weight, finding the silence that stretches between us oddly unsettling. Rory scribbles something on apiece of paper then puts the pen down on the desk, lining it up with the leather writing pad and still not speaking.
“There’s an old file that shouldn’t exist. My father signed off on a grant in 2002 for land we didn’t technically own. Nobody’s noticed—yet. I wondered if you’d?—”
“Oh… sothisis where all the summit meetings take place.”
I turn to find Anna wrapped in a towel, her hair artfully knotted up in a sexy loose bun, long tendrils trailing on her shoulders. For fuck’s sake.
“Are you coming for a swim?”
I glance sideways at Rory and his face is completely impassive. It’s very definitely not the reaction that Anna was hoping for and I bloody love him for it in that moment.
“No,” I say, my hand on the doorhandle and my back straight. “I’m notcoming for a swim. I have to work.”
“Thought I heard voices,” says Jamie, appearing from the library. “Either that or I was having an allergic reaction to all those bloody books.”
Anna looks at Jamie and lets her towel slip a little. “Hello,” she says, extending a hand. “Well, there’s no doubting you two are related. Are you the fun one, by any chance?”
Rory clears his throat and stand, hands pressed flat against the oak desk as he surveys us. With icy politeness that makes it clear he’d rather be doing anything else, he says, “Jamie, this is Edie’s friend Anna, but one assumes you already know that.”
“Anna?” Jamie scratches his head for a moment, having finally let go of Anna’s hand. “Oh yes. Hello. Nice to have some new blood to pretty the place up a bit.”
Anna preens at the compliment and actually catches one of her tendrils of hair and twirls it around a finger. If this iswhat old money does to normally self-respecting feminists, I’m horrified. At least I had the decency to mistake Rory for a bartender when I had the best sex of my life with him.
