Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
GRACE
The bags under my eyes do not belong on a woman of my age. This is what happens when the man you hate kisses you, and you spend the entire night staring at the ceiling and questioning every… damn… thing.
I must’ve told myself a hundred times it was just a kiss, but there are kisses and then there are kisses. The former is a pleasant interlude—something to enjoy at the time and immediately forget about. The latter is life-altering.
Why? Why did he have to be the one to make the ground beneath my feet precarious? How I walked away without my legs caving in is a mystery I’ll never solve. My knees knocked the entire way, my thigh muscles trembling until I turned the corner and collapsed against the wall.
I can still feel his lips on mine, his tongue inside my mouth, his hands in my hair.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
This is all Arron’s fault. If he wasn’t so bloody clever and somehow found out where Christian would be yesterday then I wouldn’t be in this mess.
Get it together, Grace.
We’ve planned for this, and our plan is working.
Christian kissing me should make me happy.
It’s the logical next step. What wasn’t in the plan, though, was the way I responded to it, and I don’t know how to handle my feelings.
Is it even possible to stop ourselves from a physical reaction?
Christian De Vil is a good-looking man—gorgeous, in fact—but there’s more to attraction than looks.
Next time he kisses me (and I’m pretty sure there will be a next time), instead of letting my body lead the way, I need to think. To remember what he did and how he covered it up to protect himself and his family.
He killed my parents.
Yes, that’s what I’ll do. That’ll work. It has to.
Throwing back the covers, I climb out of bed and jump into the shower. I have a week to mentally prepare for the ball. Only one person can help me do that: Juliet.
Arron’s nowhere around when I trudge into the kitchen twenty minutes later. He’s left a note on the kitchen table. Back around 1.
I grab a pen off the kitchen window ledge and scrawl underneath it. Gone to Juliet’s. No idea when I’ll be back.
Flicking the kettle on, I drop two slices of bread in the toaster. While I wait for it to pop, I send Juliet a text.
Me: SOS. Be at yours in forty-five.
Leaving my phone on the table, I drop a tea bag into a mug and gaze out the kitchen window.
Fluffy white clouds pepper the sky, and the trees sway in a mild breeze.
I love summer. I’m a total summer girl. It reminds me of weekends at the beach, building sandcastles, and running from dad when he threatened to throw me into the sea.
He’d catch me easily, swinging me over his shoulder before sprinting into the waves with me squealing like a pig.
Pain sears across my chest. I clasp the edge of the kitchen worktop to steady myself. I miss him. I miss Mum. I miss the life we had. We didn’t have the riches of the De Vils, but we were rich in love, and that’s worth far more than a million zeros in a bank account.
These are the memories I need to pull on the next time Christian touches me.
My phone dings, and I glance at the screen.
Juliet: I’ll make sure there’s cake.
A smile stretches my lips wide. This woman right here will be the one to steady me and hold me together over the coming weeks and months. Arron is great, but girlfriends land differently. In a way, I feel sorry for guys. They don’t have the closeness with their friends that women enjoy.
Then again, the world is pitched in men’s favor, so my sympathy doesn’t last long.
I butter my toast and add on a thick layer of raspberry jam.
With my mug of tea in one hand and food in the other, I mosey into the living room and sit in Dad’s favorite chair.
Some days, my grief is easier to handle, but for some reason, it’s particularly bad today.
Probably due to guilt over how much I enjoyed Christian kissing me.
For a few seconds, I’d forgotten who he was and what he’d done, and only thought about myself and how good he made me feel.
Breakfast done, I rinse the mug and plate under the tap and set them on the drainer.
After grabbing my phone and keys, I lock up and set off for Juliet’s, eventually parking my car outside her building and heading inside.
She must’ve been watching out for me, because she opens the door before I have a chance to knock.
“I’ve got lemon drizzle, walnut, and red velvet cupcakes. Take your pick.”
I grin. “You know the way to a girl’s heart.” We hug, and I step inside. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air. “You made real coffee, too?” I toss my bag on the coffee table and flop onto the couch.
“Yep. Dug out the cafetière from the back of the cupboard, dusted it off, and voila.”
She disappears into the kitchen, returning a couple of minutes later with a tray loaded with cake and two steaming mugs of coffee. Setting it on the table next to my bag, she sits beside me. I reach forward and pick up my coffee and one of the cupcakes.
“So,” she says as I take a huge bite. “What’s with the nine-nine-nine emergency?”
I chew, using the time to organize my thoughts into something coherent. After epically failing, I swallow and blurt, “Christian kissed me.”
Her jaw mimics a cartoon, dropping fast. At any moment, I expect her tongue to roll across the carpet and her eyes to bug out of her head like they’re on stalks.
“Okay, walk me through it ’cause last time we talked, you told me you’d blown it.”
“I thought I had. Bringing up the building collapse on our first date was stupid.” I shake my head.
“So stupid. And when he dropped me off at my car and said a chilly goodbye, I told Arron we’d have to find another way.
But he wasn’t willing to give up on it, so yesterday, he found out where Christian would be today and dispatched me off to hover like some amateur stalker. ”
“How did he find out where he’d be?”
I shrug. “I’ve stopped asking. He blinds me with tech talk that makes me want to dig out my ear drums and stamp on them.”
She grins. “Go on. What happened then?”
“I hung around outside the building and waited for him to emerge. When he did, I made it look like a total coincidence, which I think he bought, although we joked about stalking. I apologized, he said it was a touchy subject, and he agreed to go for a coffee with me.”
“I’ll fucking bet it’s a touchy subject. Slimy, lying little bastard.”
“Nothing slimy about the way he kisses.” Heat rushes to my face. I hide it by taking a large swig of coffee. “Anyway, we chatted over coffee and walked outside. That’s when he kissed me. Twice. Oh, and he called me Duchess.”
“A nickname? This is good news, Gracie.” Juliet bobs her head. “And on that kiss, yeah, I’m gonna need all the details. Tongue?”
In spite of myself and how confused I feel, I laugh.
“Not on the first one, but yes, on the second he used lots of tongue.” Shame coats me as I prepare to share the unabridged truth with my friend.
“He made me forget who he was. By the time he released me, I couldn’t feel my legs.
My mind went blank, and all the hatred I have for this man just…
vanished.” I bite my lip. “I’m scared I’ll forget who he is, what he’s done, and somehow fall under his spell.
He’s so fucking… charming. In another life, he’d be my perfect guy. ”
“Don’t you worry about that. Arron, your uncle, and I will remind you of the end goal, and of the lying scumbag you’re having to get up close and personal with.”
I swallow. “I’m going to need you to play that part.
I don’t want Arron or Uncle Daniel to know about this.
They’ll only worry, and I don’t want that.
Christian’s invited me to a ball next Saturday at Oakleigh, and I swung an invite for you, too.
Not a clue what to wear, though. Can’t exactly wear the same dress as last time. ”
“We’ll finish our coffees, scarf down another slice of cake, and head up to the high street to scour the charity shops. We’ll find something appropriate.”
I rest my head on her shoulder. “What would I do without you?”
“Same, girl. Luckily for both of us, we’ll never have to find out. Ride or die until death.”
The warmth of a friendship built through childhood engulfs me. I’m not the kind of girl to have tons of friends. I’m an introvert through and through. But Juliet… well, she’s more like a sister than a friend.
After eating a slice of the walnut cake, because it was too damn good not to, and finishing my coffee, I carry the tray into the kitchen. I’m stacking the dishwasher when there’s a knock at the door.
“I’ll just get rid of whoever that is and we can go,” Juliet shouts through from the living room, loud enough that whoever it is must have heard her.
That’s Juliet, though. She doesn’t give a crap what people think about her.
I’ve envied that about my best friend my entire life. I worry all too much.
Voices drift through to the kitchen as I return the cakes to their boxes—how she thought we’d get through this lot is beyond me—and put them in the fridge. I’m about to head back into the living room when Juliet appears in the doorway with what looks like a garment bag hanging over her arm.
“What’s that?”
“It’s addressed to you. I… I don’t know.” She hands it to me.
I frown. “To me? But why would anything be sent here for me? I don’t live—” The answer slams into me at a hundred miles an hour.
Christian.
It has to be him. He’s the only person who believes I live here.
I yank down the zipper to reveal a lavender, floor-length evening gown.
The material feels soft as silk. I check out the label.
Oh, my God. It’s Dior. Christian Dior. That’s not a mistake.
He’s sending a message. As I peel off the bag, a black velvet box falls on the floor.
I pick it up, my gaze flipping between the dress in my left hand and a box that looks suspiciously like it contains jewelry in the other.
“I told him I didn’t have a dress,” I murmur, dumbfounded.
“And in true billionaire style, he sends you a designer number from Dior.” Juliet runs her hand over the dress. “What’s in the box?”
“I don’t know.” Carefully, I lay the dress over the back of the couch and open the box. “Holy fuck.”
Juliet peers over my shoulder. “Whoa. That must’ve been some fucking kiss, babe. Are those diamonds?”
“I-I’m not sure.” Lying inside the box on lavender velvet that’s an exact match for the dress is a sparkling choker, a matching bracelet, and a pair of stud earrings. Tucked into a ribbon is a white envelope with my name on it. “Cubic zirconia?” I lift an eyebrow in query.
“Yeah, sure. One of the richest men in the world buys imitation diamonds. I bet they’re real. What’s the note say?”
I set the box down on the arm of the couch and slide my nail under the envelope. Inside is a cream embossed card with the De Vil logo in the top right-hand corner, and black scrawl underneath.
A gown and jewels fit for a Lady. Saturday can’t come soon enough. My driver will pick you up at seven o’clock. C.
My knees wobble, and I sink onto the couch. “These must’ve cost… I don’t even know how much.”
“More than a mil, I’d guess.”
My jaw unhinges. “Surely not?”
Juliet rubs her lips together. “Babe, whatever you did with your tongue has that boy hooked.”
“This is too much. I have to send them back.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Juliet says, outraged. “He sent you a gift, and you’re gonna accept it. When all this is over, you can sell those diamonds and live well for the rest of your life. Call it payment for his crimes.”
I shake my head. “That’s not me. I’m in this for the truth, not the money. I’ll return them to him after Saturday.”
“And the dress?”
I finger the fabric. “I’ll wear the dress, only because I don’t want to draw attention to myself by wearing the same one. But just the once. Then I’ll have it dry-cleaned and returned as well.”
“God, you’re so bad at this. I’d fleece that man for every penny. It’s not like he’d miss it.”
“I’m only dating him for as long as it takes me to find out what really happened to Mum and Dad. As soon as I do that, I’m out of there.”
She arches a brow. “And you think he’s going to just let you walk out of his life?” She sits beside me and picks up my hand. “Babe, I want you to reconsider the diamonds. When this is over, you’re going to need to disappear for a while, and you’ll need cash to do that.”
“Disappear? What are you talking about?”
“He’s a De Vil, Gracie. Once he realizes he’s been conned and exposed, you think he’s just gonna go ‘fair cop’, and let you swan out the door without facing the consequences?”
Ice slithers into my veins. We’ve been so busy planning how to infiltrate one of the richest families in the world and uncover the truth that what happens after that is a part of the plan we haven’t nailed down.
Juliet is right. When I confront him and he realizes he’s been played, he’s going to want revenge.
Having enough money to lie low for a while isn’t a bad idea.
Despite that, though, I hate the idea of using his money to ensure my safety.
Problem is, I don’t have any of my own. Still doesn’t sit right with me, though.
“I hate it when you bring logic to the table.”
She grins, shoulder bumping me. “You’re welcome. So, you’ll keep the diamonds?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask. Right, let’s get going. You may have a rich guy showering you with fancy clothes and jewels, but this missy here still needs a dress for the ball.”