Page 40 of Arrogant Heir

Breathe, Jamie, breathe.

Last night, I read more about Damian than any girl should. I knew it was a mistake when I was doing it, but I couldn’t stop myself from scrolling and clicking. No wonder my head hurts. Looking in the mirror, I don’t like what I see. My eyes are red with heavy bags, and I look like I’ve been through hell. Maybe I’ll take a nap later, but first I need to get my act together.

It’s a Saturday and I rarely work at the house on weekends, but I’ve just seen an email from Arthur asking me to come over to the library. He said it’s important and the sooner the better. That gets my head spinning all over again.

Am I in trouble for letting them take photos of me yesterday? I don’t get newspapers delivered, but based on the missed calls, it looks like Damian’s prophecy about me being in the print editions today has come true.

Tentatively, I click on the messages. My mum asks whether I’ve seen the papers today. This doesn’t bode well. After doing my best fix-up job on my face and throwing on a pair of black jeans and a sweatshirt—it’s Saturday, after all—I race over to the house. The air is like a damp blanket covering me as I stride down the path and breathe the cool air into my lungs.

As I rush into Greystone from the usual side entrance, I bump slap bang into Damian. He looks exhausted. His angular face and sharp cheekbones are even starker today and his eyes look haunted in his beautiful pale face.

‘Morning,’ we say in unison.

‘Are you—?’ I ask.

‘Have you—?’ he says.

We both cease our flow of words as we’re talking over each other.

He pulls a face and raises his hand, palm upwards. ‘You go first?’

Now I know him better, I can’t remember why I thought he was so rude not that long ago. He is nothing but the gentleman with me these days, and my heart flutters as I see the concern reflected in his eyes.

I take a deep breath. ‘I was just asking whether you were going out?’

He nods. ‘I was about to go for a run. My trainer doesn’t come on the weekends, so I like to change my routine up a bit. Do you run?’

‘Only from reporters!’ I say. The sassy remark slips out before I can stop it from rolling off my tongue.

He laughs. ‘That’s funny, Jackson. I’m glad you haven’t lost your sense of humour, given what’s in the papers today.’

I freeze. The smile slides from my face and my heart bashes against my chest as panic sets in.

‘I had some messages from my mum—and Simon—but your grandfather asked me to meet with him so I haven’t had a chance to talk to them yet. And I don’t get the papers delivered. What are they saying exactly?’

He scrapes his fingers through his raven hair and sighs. ‘What aren’t they saying, would be a better question. I’m sorry. They don’t know when to stop, I’m afraid. My people haven’t been able to do much damage control. They tell me the media are in a frenzy and are loving the story they’ve created about us.’

‘I’m at a disadvantage, not having seen the papers, but I saw some headlines on the internet.’

‘It’s more of the same. Red-headed mystery girlfriend etc. Apparently, you’ve moved in with me and they’re framing it as though I cheated on you by taking someone home to my Chelsea apartment while you were waiting for me here.’

My eyes pop. ‘What?’

‘I know. Well, you’re a writer. You know how carried away they get, and unfortunately, they don’t care if it’s pure fantasy. The more sensational and dirty, the more papers fly off the stands.’

‘But that’s so unfair,’ I say. ‘What can we do to squash the story?’

‘That’s why my grandfather wants to see you. He wants your help with a press release. I told him we have a department full of writers to do that kind of thing, but you’ve got yourself a huge fan. By the sounds of it he only trusts you.’ He smiles at me and my heart melts.

‘How lovely. Well, at least I’ve gained one fan while I’m here,’ I say, my tone lightly teasing.

His eyes narrow and I might be imagining it, but I swear they’re on my lips as he says, ‘Only one? Oh, you are definitely underestimating your fan base. My mother thinks you’re amazing and Sebastian would probably marry you tomorrow if you gave him the nod. And Marian thinks you’re brilliant too. I understand she’s coming home soon for an interview with you?’

In truth, I’m struck dumb by his effusive praise. I wonder what he thinks of me, but daren’t ask. He says nothing about his feelings, but the way he looks at me turns me hot and cold and hot again. What would it be like to kiss those sculpted lips and run my fingers through his black hair?

‘Anyway, I must go for my run before it pisses down. If you need me to help with the press release, give me a shout. I’ll be around upstairs in my suite all day.’

A vision of him kissing me, hard, and taking me in his luxurious suite that I’ve never even seen pings into my mind.

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