Page 126 of Screwged for Christmas

What must Holly think of this world? Most of these people had never worked a day in their lives. Though they may have attended world-famous universities, they weren’t accepted to them based on their merit, but on the size of the donations their families had contributed. They never planned to use the degrees they earned and only acquired their diplomas as just another mark of their pedigrees.

I’d been pleasantly surprised that Holly and my mother got on well. They were as different as could be, but they found common ground in respecting each other’s dedication to their chosen work. Holly assured my mother that we were not a couple, and my mother had demurred badgering her about it.

She saved that for me.

“Tell me again why you aren’t announcing your engagement tonight?” My mother had succeeded in cornering me as I was trying to reach Holly across a crowded room.

“Because we aren’t engaged.” Though for the hundredth time today I wondered if she already carried my child. I nodded at a passing couple of Italian royalty. Two hours into the event, I was seething with jealousy. While one obligation after another snared me, Holly was free to mingle, dance, and socialize with every man who had two eyes in his head and a cock.

“And whose fault is that?”

“It’s no one’s fault. It’s complicated.” I growled. Most people backed off when I growled.

Not my mother.

Or Holly.

My mother raised a manicured brow. “Malcolm,” she said gently. I hated it when she tried to be motherly. It was as anxiety-producing as a crocodile cuddling a kitten. “She can’t practice medicine here without retraining. What do you think she’d do here?”

Holly was smiling at Nevil Brockton. Undoubtedly, he was telling her about when he crewed at Oxford. Brockton was an ass, surely she would see that? Now that she was back in my life, I didn’t want to let her go. But keeping her from her true calling wasn’t good for her.

But she would have plenty to do once I knock her up, whispered the devil on my shoulder. My gaze stayed on Holly. Fuck it. I was dedicating myself to filling her pussy every chance I got. If she was pregnant, she’d have to stay. I should’ve been ashamed but I wasn’t. Dukes were used to getting what they want.

My mother’s brows arched towards her hairline. “Whatever the problem is, fix it. Show her Scotland has plenty to offer as do you. You’re the Duke of Lachlan.”

“I’m well aware of my title. Not everyone’s sole objective in life is to be a Duchess. You’re aware that we’re in the twenty-first century, right?”

She waved away such a small detail.

“You were a bright boy, Malcolm. Figure out what she wants and give it to her.”

That didn’t put me in a better mood. What Holly wanted was to practice medicine, and that I couldn’t give her. Worse, the only way she could do what she loved was to be an ocean away from me.

“Where’d she get that damn red dress? It’s causing a scandal.” I snarled.

The dress I had ordered for her was not red but black, with long sleeves and a fucking back. What she was wearing instead looked more like a red holiday cocktail napkin. My fists clenched at my sides.

“It’s one of mine.” My mother said happily.

I choked. “You’re joking. I’ve never seen you wear a dress like that.”

“It’s been a while. I wasn’t always just your mother, you know. And your father bought it for me before he proposed.” My mother surveyed the ballroom. “It fits Holly perfectly. And it’s not red, the color is ‘claret.’ Do be precise.”

“I suppose you loaned her the jewelry too?” I grabbed a wineglass from a passing tray. The only thing that could help tonight was more alcohol.

How soon could I send everyone home? Before midnight? Probably not.

My mother looked smug. “I loaned her a few strategic pieces. Nothing to overwhelm or detract. You are a grump. The party is going very well. I thought you’d be pleased.”

“I’m thrilled. Can’t you tell?” I stalked to join the circle of admirers thronging around Holly.

Leon Foscomb, an annoying hedge of a man but who made money with ease that astounded anyone with a brain, stopped my progress.

His eyes were squinty behind his glasses, but when you were one of the world’s richest men, that didn’t matter. “Good evening, Malcolm. Holly has been sharing war stories about your time in New York.”

I glanced at Holly.

“Excuse us.” I placed my hand at the small of Holly’s back. “A guest has a medical emergency and I need to consult Dr. Ives.” I moved her out of Foscomb’s ogling orbit. I loved how she shivered at my touch.

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