Page 24 of Filthy Mouth
Benedict
The more Poppy drank, the more amorous she became. Four shots and a cocktail later, I was guiding her to the car. As soon as I sat down, her hand was wrapped around my tie, and her leg flung over mine. She reminded me of a playful kitten I couldn’t wait to cage. I calculated how long it would take us to get home before placing my hand on her thigh.
“Mmm. I needed those drinks,” she said, resting her head on me.
“Why?” I asked, stroking higher.
“My family stress me out, and now they keep pushing Edmund on me. He’s my stepmother’s brother. So fucking gross.”
Over my dead body. No one would touch what was mine—not in any way.
This was something the PI missed. I would need to get back to him. Dig into this Edmund character.
“Typical elites—they like to keep it in the family,” I murmured.
“You don’t know the half of it,” she snorted.“I left my own home because I just couldn’t bear living with them any longer.”
My hand paused.
“You inherited it from your mother?”
“Yes, along with what my grandmother left me. They’re dying to get their hands on it all,” she said with a weary sigh.
I slipped my arm around her waist, claiming her in the only way I could in public. Now I realised why Isaac hadn’t sold me the land. It wasn’t his to sell—not yet.
“Do you know why they want you with Edmund?”
“Probably for an heir so that they can claim the inheritance.”
My jaw tightened. Poppy was young, but most definitely not naive. And there was no way I’d let another man put a child in her. This was fucking entrapment. If anyone was going to baby-trap her, it would be me.
I frowned. What the fuck was I thinking? I didn’t even want children. Perhaps when I was young and clueless, but at my age? The time had passed, hadn’t it? Magnus was almost a year younger than me, and he was on his second baby. I guess his first son was a failure.
“Greed is a terrible affliction,” I murmured when I noticed Poppy staring at me.
She giggled.“Yes, you’re so wise.”
I smiled at her cheek, but as we drove through the busy London evening, my mind was already plotting how to dismantle her wretched family—piece by piece—until there was nothing left but her, right where I wanted her.
The remaining journey was in silence as I held her, mulling over the information Eric had compiled for me. Poppy might have a family, but what good were they when they didn’t have her best interests at heart? The files implied many aspects of neglect, especially after Grace Winborne passed away. Poppy left her own home to get away from them, and that spoke volumes. My arm tightened around her waist, and she leaned into me, placing her hand on my chest, toying with my tie.
Perhaps I could be both her prince and her villain.
??????
Food could wait. I needed Poppy. When we got home, I took her small case and escorted her to the front door. She was steady on her feet now, her eyes clear.
Excellent.
I wanted her to remember every detail of tonight.
“Why don’t I show you the master bedroom?” I said, guiding her to the elevator.
“That sounds… interesting.”
I pressed the button for the second floor. The entire level was dedicated to the master suite—an open bathroom, two large dressing areas, and more than enough space to keep her here far longer than six months. I hoped she liked it. She would be living here.
We held each other’s gaze, the air tightening between us, the hum of the lift almost drowned out by the sound of her slow, deliberate breathing. Her eyes dipped briefly to my mouth before flicking back up.
