No Ordinary Gentleman

“I’m sorry?”

“Holly, that cute server from your charity night.”

I frown as though confused. “Is the name supposed to mean something to me?” I ask, keeping my tone vague.

“It means something to me. It means you are a cockblocker.”

Matt snorts, tactfully turning the noise into a cough.

“You know I was into her, so you sent me on a wild goose chase looking for some knob who wasn’t even there.”

“You can’t mean Charles St John, surely?”

“Was he the goose or the knob?” Matt asks.

“What does it matter when he wasn’t even there,” Griffin replies, his gaze boring into mine.

“He was when I left the ballroom.” I take an unconcerned swallow of my champagne without a flicker of conscience or concern. “To look for you.” Holland deserves better than to be used by him. Besides, if anyone in this family gets to fuck her, it should be me. Ah, see. I win already, I think smugly.

“What are you smiling about?” he grunts. “Admit it—you chased me off because you knew she was into me.”

“You’re delusional.” And I’ll break your arms if you so much as touch her.

“And you just wanted to get your hands on the American bit.”

“American bit of what?” Matt interjects, clearly entertained. I glance his way, hoping he has enough sense to stay out of this.

“You should see her, Matt,” Griffin replies, warming to his theme. “Cute as a button and as feisty as fuck. She’s got this arse . . .” With a look that I’m sure is meant to convey his rapture, he shapes globes in the air between us.

I’m not biting. Though I am silently correcting him because her arse isn’t round. It’s more like a heart that’s shaped upside down. She has dimples in her back made for my fingers and the noises she makes when—

“She was like a siren.”

“Sounds more like she was a false alarm,” Matt retorts, “if Alexander was able to whisk her from under your nose.”

“I tell you, Matt. If he’s fucked her,” Griffin says, ignoring my friend’s teasing, “I’d be tempted to suck his dick. Just for a taste.”

“Griffin Middlemass QC, ladies and gentlemen. My half-brother. The other half must surely be Neanderthal.”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere. But surely, your grace, you aren’t maligning my mother,” Griffin says, a hint of warning in his tone.

I’m sure the joke is our shared blood. “I wouldn’t dream of it. She has already suffered so much in raising you.”

“Now, now, children,” Matt interjects with amusement. “Besides, you’re not telling me this woman would rival the brunette you just had your hands on.”

Griffin’s gaze flicks to the woman in question, appearing to give the question some thought. “She is gorgeous, but she’s more plastic than skin. Plus, she’s a working girl.” One of the changes Van sought to implement when he took over. High end escorts for those who prefer that sort of experience. “Holly is real. Soft in all the places you want a woman to be. There’s something about her.” Griffin shakes his head and I find myself almost commiserating as he presses his elbow against the arm of the chair, leaning forward as though about to impart something of note. “And her blow job mouth is one-hundred-percent natural.”

Bastard. In more than one sense of the word.

“And how would you know,” I find myself drawling, my hand tightening on my own chair arm. I don’t like where this is going. Fuck it, I don’t like the fact that he’s been within three feet of her.

“Because I had her in my palm,” he says, spreading the fingers of his hand wide before he balls it into a fist.

“And you thought her so wonderful, you put the prospect of money before her.”

“Did you fuck her?” Griffin asks quite suddenly.

“This is getting a bit heavy for me,” Matt says, rising from his chair. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” His hand rests briefly on my shoulder, and then he’s gone.

“She hasn’t called you, so the natural logic is I must’ve fucked her.” I want to be smug but see the wisdom in keeping my tone neutral, even if Griffin’s answer is a heated glower. There’s no need to make this a competition. Because I’ve already won. Only, this victor won’t be enjoying the spoils. Not anymore.

“Something chased her off. I called the caterers, and they said she no longer works there.”

“You went looking for her? Chasing her? Isn’t that a little . . .” Over the top for him?

“She’s worth it. I told you, there was something between us and now I can’t fucking find her, and you were the last one who saw her out of the two of us.”

“Should I call my lawyer?” I drawl.

“If you’ve fucked her—”

“For God’s sake, I just gave the girl a number to call. A number of an employment agency. That was the whole of our conversation.”