Chapter 14 Grace
Grace
My groan vibrates up my throat and spills over my lips after I swallow. When I open my eyes, Duke is watching me, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Are you faking it, Grace?”
I slurp another mouthful of coffee before I answer. “I’m just savoring the delicious coffee my boss made for me.” It’s nowhere near as good as Ed’s, but Duke knows that already.
We’ve made it through our second week without ripping each other’s clothes off, but with each passing day, my resolve has been weakening, making it harder for Duke to hold the line.
“I’m not your boss,” he says from behind his desk. He’s always more relaxed when there’s a solid piece of furniture between us.
“Then what are you?” I push. “I’m not going to start calling you my client.”
“Frustrated is what I am, Angel.”
“Three weeks, two days,” I say, wishing I had the same level of confidence as Duke when it comes to counting down to his wedding day. What if the Griffins plan doesn’t work? What if they decide to withdraw their offer of help? Or Katarina backs out and marries Duke?
I don’t know what I’d do if that happened.
Duke isn’t the only one who’s frustrated, and it’s not just sexual frustration.
Granted, that’s the one that clangs loudest in my brain, but I’m also frustrated that I have to wait for my new life to begin.
With Duke. Or without him if that’s how it has to be. Please let it be with.
If Katarina sinks her claws any deeper into Duke, I’d have to leave Chicago. I don’t want to abandon him, but seeing them together would tear me apart.
Leaving the city would be a wrench too. I’m growing to love my new home.
Ed had given me a tour of the sights last weekend and thought it hilarious when he signed us up for a Chicago Mobs walking tour.
Afterwards, he’d made it up to me with a spa treatment and it hadn’t taken long to figure out that Duke was behind Ed’s apparent generosity.
I’d done my best to limit our spending, but we’d made several random purchases that were going to shock Duke’s accountant. We’d bought a mind-boggling collection of sex toys just so the store name would appear on his card statement.
As I adjust the hem of my tailored skirt over my thighs, I spot a ginger hair on my opaque tights.
Sadly, it doesn’t belong to a Marmaduke, but a Marmalade.
Ed’s cat. I’d stayed over at Ed’s and we’d spent Saturday evening vegetating in front of the TV with popcorn, tequila and endless reruns of Ru Paul’s Drag Race.
By Sunday, the traitorous Marmalade was showing clear favoritism towards me and Ed was not happy that I’d stolen not only his man, but his cat too. I don’t think he was joking.
“I have something for you,” I tell Duke, pulling a flash drive from my jacket pocket. His eyes light up. “But first you have to promise to be very careful with it.”
“It’ll be locked in my desk at all times,” he says, extending his hand to receive his gift. “When not in use.”
“I’m more worried about your dry-cleaning bill.”
“You think I’m going to jerk off in here listening to it?”
Standing up, I lean over the desk and dangle the flash drive over his waiting palm. “I know you will.”
It’s Duke’s turn to groan, and now I’m the one imagining him fisting his cock. Only he’s not alone. I’m lying on a hotel bedroom floor and he’s painting me with his cum. I swallow loudly.
Duke tugs the flash drive from my grasp. “Sit back down, Grace before you spontaneously combust,” he says firmly. He locks the flash drive in his desk drawer while I retreat to my seat. “So, what’s on the agenda today, Mrs. Hamel?”
We’ve actually made good progress on Corbyn House.
There are a few walls in the proposed design that need repositioning so we retain more of the original features, and I’m working through an inventory of all the original furniture and furnishings to see what we can repurpose.
I’m also in discussions with the Moncriefs’ landscape gardeners about reestablishing the original gardens.
“I could set up a team meeting next week,” I suggest after we’ve gone through all the points and clarifications I need from Duke.
“A meeting with who?”
Duke does this every time I suggest bringing other people into our meetings. He doesn’t like to share. “Me, you, Noah, the landscaper,” I say, counting them off on my fingers. I tap my little finger last, doing my best to hold back the smile before listing the fifth name. “And Olly.”
“No,” he growls.
“Duke, he’s the architect. He needs to be involved and it’s not like I don’t share an office with him already.”
“I don’t want him in here. With you,” Duke says, being utterly childish. “So unless you want me to throw him out the window, I suggest we make it a conference call.”
“The windows don’t open.”
“I know, Angel. I can use his head to break glass.” He drains his coffee. “Anything else?”
My heart pulls, as it does every morning when I have to leave. We’re getting better at building a business relationship, but it’s just another charade. “That’s it,” I say, rising from my seat. “I’ll see you Monday?”
“You will. Have a good weekend.”
We hold each other’s gaze and his eyes repeat all the things he’s already said so many times. I want you. I need you. I will have you. Trust me.
When I leave, Duke doesn’t get up from his desk, and I don’t turn around. It’s safer this way. If he touches me, I’ll want him to hold me. If he holds me, I’ll want to him to kiss me. And if he kisses me… It doesn’t matter how close we get, it’s never going to be enough.
Ed’s signing for something when I reach his desk. He pays me no attention, far more interested in the delivery guy.
“Nice package,” I say as we watch him walk away.
Ed tuts. “I didn’t notice.”
I don’t hold back my laugh. “I meant the one in your hand, Ed.”
He rolls his eyes as he grabs a pair of scissors to slice through the tape on the plain brown box. “No, you didn’t.”
I’m about to leave him to sort through the mail, but his expression stops me. My eyes widen too when I lean closer. Inside the nondescript cardboard box is another box. It’s purple and sparkly, and I recognize the branding immediately thanks to our little shopping excursion at the weekend.
“Is that what I think it is?” I ask while my inner voice is praying that it’s for me.
A sales person we’d spoken to had gone to great lengths to explain how they collaborated with an international supplier to produce a customized dildo that replicated your partner’s member.
The poor girl had the job of helping with the molding process.
Customers could go online and do it themselves, but it could get messy apparently and she was the go-to girl. Had Duke gone to her?
Ed lifts the sealed box carefully from the packaging, balancing it reverently in both hands, weighing it up.
From nowhere, a hand with blood-red nails reaches past me. “I’ll take that.”
There’s pressure against my back as the woman makes to grab for the box and I step to the side. This isn’t a battle I should be involved in. Her accent has immediately given away her identity.
All I can do is look on in horror. If that package was intended for me and ends up in Katarina’s hands, or any other part of her body, I might just die.
Ed refuses to release his hold on the purple box and greets the new arrival as if they weren’t in the midst of a tug of war. “Katarina, how lovely to see you,” he says levelly. “Have you done something to your hair. It looks… human.”
Katarina tugs harder. “Edison, don’t make me hurt you.”
Ed glances over her shoulder at the two men observing him coldly, their leather jackets zipped up, hands clasped in front of them. They look as friendly as they did the first time I spied them coming out of the restaurant with Duke and Katarina. Danyl and Andrey.
“I think I’d enjoy those two manhandling me almost as much as they would.” Ed winks in their direction. “Do you want to subject me to another body search, boys?”
Katarina sighs impatiently. “Not them, durak.” Idiot. “You do know I could break your neck with one arm?” She lifts her free hand in warning and in the process, shows off her stupidly large engagement ring.
But it’s Katarina’s smile that dazzles. As much as it pains me to acknowledge it, this woman is even more beautiful up close.
Her skin-tight jeans show off her round ass and her sapphire blue jacket pinches at her waist and pushes up her ample cleavage.
Her lips are red, her brown eyes bottomless and her long, raven hair is a silken curtain that falls almost to the base of her spine. Human, and then some.
“The package was addressed to Duke, not you,” Ed says, ignoring her threat.
Katarina snarls as she lets go of the box and checks the discarded packaging. She finds the delivery note and laughs. Then turns it towards Ed.
He reads it out loud, then makes a gagging noise. “For when you’re running on empty.”
“Read the name, you imbecile.”
Ed lets go of the box and wipes his palms on his side. “Fine, take it. Clearly it has nothing to do with Moncrief business.”
Katarina arches an eyebrow. “You think not?”
“Was there anything else I could help you with, Miss Barkov?” he asks.
She drops her prize into her oversized purse and shoots a glare at him. She waits.
“He’s busy.”
Katarina prowls around Ed’s desk. Despite his bravado, he wheels his chair away from her.
A predatory smile tugs at Katarina’s red lips, but she reaches across the desk for Ed’s mouse not his neck. Before he can react, she turns his computer screen to face her.
“Katarina…”
“Quiet!” she hisses as she pulls up Duke’s calendar.
I’m six feet away, but even I can see the highlighted pink row that blocks off Duke’s first hour every morning. And it has my name on it. Fuck.
I take a silent step backwards and mouth goodbye to Ed, but before I can turn, Katarina’s head snaps up. She either caught Ed acknowledging my bid to escape, or she heard me creeping away. Either way, I don’t like how unnervingly perceptive she is. Her eyes zero in on me.
“Have we met before?” she asks.
As she straightens up, her head tilts. It’s as if she’s looking into my soul. My throat constricts and I almost choke on the single word that’s not exactly a lie. I can say with complete honesty that we’ve never been introduced. “No.”
Now I understand why Duke didn’t want to put me in a position where I’d have to lie about sleeping with him. Talking about the things we want to do to each other doesn’t count. Does it? Beads of sweat prick my brow.
Katarina stalks towards me, arm extended. “I’m Katarina Barkov, Duke’s fiancée. And you must be Grace Hamel.”
I only manage a nod this time as she looms over me.
I’m expecting her grip to be cold, but there’s actual blood in her veins. “Have you finished with my fiancé?” she asks.
Heat floods my cheeks. “I… Umm…”
I’m supposed to be better prepared than this. She might be breathtakingly beautiful, but she’s only keeping hold of Duke through coercion. And all he was trying to do was help her. Bitch. If Ed can stand up to her, so can I.
I lift my chin. “Yes, I’ve finished with him,” I say, surprising myself and the man who’s appeared at his office door. His quiet presence makes me that little bit braver, and I add, “For now.”
It’s a challenge, and one Katarina doesn’t shy away from. She taps a fingertip against her chin, absorbing every detail of my face. “You know, I think I have seen you before,” she says, then casts her gaze towards Duke. “Can you think when I would have bumped into Grace, baby?”
Duke is better than I am at schooling his expression. “If I was with you, kitten, I can’t imagine noticing anyone else,” he says, opening his arms as she slinks towards him.
His words are false. I know they’re false, but the pain that stabs at my heart is too damn real.
What if they’re closer than he’s led me to believe?
He’s a man with needs. And Katarina’s the kind of woman it would be hard to say no to.
Cameron wouldn’t have said no. And he would have assured me there was nothing going on in exactly the same ways that Duke has.
My gut tells me my faith in Duke is justified. My suspicion is unwarranted, but there’s a replica of someone’s cock in her purse, and Katarina seemed pretty pleased to receive it. Was it intended for her? Ed wouldn’t have handed it over otherwise.
As Katarina wraps an arm around Duke’s neck, he glances in my direction. Her bodyguards can see his face too, so I have to imagine the apology he can’t show. It’s harder than it should be.
The pain in my chest intensifies as Katarina’s hand cups the back of Duke’s head and she pulls him in for a kiss.
His arms wrap around her waist and he closes his eyes.
Coward. Bastard. Stupid, stupid idiot! That last curse is aimed at myself.
He’d sworn it wasn’t a real relationship, but it looks fucking real from here.
“Come on,” Katarina croons, taking Duke’s hand and pulling him into his office. “We have a wedding to plan.”
When the office door closes, I’m aware that Katarina’s goons are watching me. I can’t cry, but the look of sympathy on Ed’s face is almost my undoing. I steel myself as I return to his desk. Wordlessly, I pick up the delivery note and read Katarina’s name.
I heave out a sigh. Have I been fooled all this time? Was that mold a little engagement gift from Duke to his fiancée?
“Can I check your calendar for a second?” I ask Ed.
“Want me to set up a meeting?” he says, eager to help, or soothe my pain. Not possible.
I take charge of his mouse and highlight the pink row Katarina had seen on Duke’s calendar. I right click and select delete.
“Grace, he’ll only…” Ed says, keeping his voice low.
“Then remind him he suggested conference calls,” I reply. I straighten my spine and try to ignore how my heart cracks open a little more. “How do you fancy a visit to Heatrush this weekend? I have a VIP pass.”
His nose wrinkles. “Is that such a good idea?”
“In the absence of anything better, yes, it’s a damn good idea.”