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The Scotch Queen (Scotch 2)

Page 73

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I couldn’t believe he’d lied to me for this long.

If he loved me, why hadn’t he told me the truth? Why hadn’t he offered to let me go? To let me be a private citizen again with my own life? Why was he still keeping me here like this? Was it really love? Or was it just habit?

I wasn’t sure.

The fact that he hadn’t come clean about anything just hardened my resolve. My heart throbbed when he said those words to me, making me feel higher than a kite, but now I was yanked back down to earth where my shoes hit the hard ground.

His love wasn’t enough to give me what I deserved.

The truth.

I walked downstairs in one of the dresses Dimitri had placed in my closet, my hair done and my makeup light. Crewe never said it, but I knew he preferred it when I wore minimal makeup, usually just mascara and a small amount of foundation. He preferred the natural look as opposed to the supermodel look.

I hadn’t seen Ariel since their big fight, and I hoped I didn’t cross her path anytime soon. The woman wasn’t stupid, and she knew I was up to no good. Actually, she hit the nail right on the head. Any interaction with her could just stir up her suspicion.

I approached Crewe’s door and came face-to-face with Dimitri. “Can I see him?” I had to check in with his personal bodyguard anytime I wanted anything. I would normally have a thing or two to say about it, but since Crewe’s affection was more important than my attitude, I bit my tongue.

Dimitri didn’t say a word before he disappeared inside the office. He came back a moment later. “He’ll see you now.”

“Thanks.” I held back the sarcasm before I walked inside.

“Dimitri?” Crewe didn’t look up from his desk as he was finishing signing a document.

“Sir?” Dimitri said.

“Lady London can come and go as she pleases.” He grabbed another paper and signed the bottom in one quick motion.

Dimitri nodded before he walked out.

I tried not to smile at Crewe’s offer, knowing he gave me power no one else in this castle had.

He finished what he was doing and met my gaze, looking handsome in his gray suit and black tie. A glass of water sat on his desk, his scotch nowhere in sight. He even gave me a slight smile, the kind that reached his eyes. “What can I do for you?”

I sauntered to his table, my hips shaking. My fingers touched the top of his desk, and I slid them across the wood as I walked around and parked my ass in his lap. “You’re already doing it.”

“What am I doing, exactly?”

I brought his fingertips to my lips and kissed them. “Looking fine as hell.” I kissed his fingers again before I held them in my lap.

That intense gaze returned to his face, his mocha-colored eyes warm like freshly brewed coffee. “I would take you on this desk, but I have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Then take me after the meeting.”

His hands gripped my ass, and he pulled me closer to him. “Consider it a date.”

“Ooh…the best date I’ve ever been on.”

When he smiled, he looked like an entirely new man. It was the first time I saw a boyish charm, a playfulness in his eyes that made him cute in a way he never was before. He used to be dark and foreboding, downing scotch left and right and snapping when he was in one of his foul moods.

But now he was happy.

Was that all because of me?

He lifted me onto the desk and kissed me. “Wait right here. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“An hour?” I asked incredulously. “You’re lucky you’re worth the wait.”

He smiled and kissed me again. “You know I’m good for it.” He stepped away, his shoulders broad and powerful. He was about to walk out and leave me there to wait for him.

I came down here for a reason, so I stuck to my plan. “Actually, I wanted to ask for a favor. Since I have time to kill…”

He stopped and placed his hands in his pockets, but he didn’t walk back to me. He stood still and tall like a mountain, his strength underneath the surface of that crisp suit. “You know you can ask me for anything, Lovely.”

My heart skipped a beat again. My palms were clammy, and my breathing was uneven. He said heartfelt things when I least expected them. The fact that I knew he meant them made it even more meaningful. “I was wondering if I could call my brother…haven’t talked to him in a while.” I was deliberately playing him for a fool, and now the guilt was growing inside my gut. I shouldn’t feel any compassion, but I did. I didn’t feel good about what I was doing—at all.



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