Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
CHRISTIAN
Sometimes I think the universe is out to rip me a new one.
During the last thirteen days, I’ve traveled to six different countries on De Vil business, with barely a second to myself. I’m jet lagged, cranky, and hornier than I’ve been since I lost my virginity and realized that sex was a pleasure that could easily become an addiction.
Christ, I want Grace. I haven’t been with a woman since the day she glided past me at the charity ball almost seven weeks ago.
This is not my usual MO. I’m a date two, possibly three guy before I have the woman beneath me, but with Grace…
I don’t know, she’s different. That doesn’t stop me waking with a hard on every morning and hand-jobbing in the shower to her image lodged in my mind.
I have to have her, and soon, or I might explode. This can’t be good for my health.
It’s teeming with rain as my plane taxis to a halt on the tarmac, and a chilly wind whips through the cabin when the flight attendant opens the door. I dash down the steps and into my car that’s waiting at the bottom of the steps.
“Have I been away so long that I missed the last days of summer and catapulted right into October?”
Dawson, my driver, chuckles. “It’s been like this for the past few days. Gotta love England in summer, right, boss?”
“No, I fucking don’t,” I grumble, taking out my phone to send a message to Grace.
While I was away, my father sent me an invite to a business meeting at The Shard for tomorrow.
Attending meetings with my father is always a nerve-racking time for me in case I fuck up and he’s there to witness my public humiliation.
Considering the subject of the meeting is nothing to do with property, either, I’m unsure why he’s asked me to accompany him at all.
There is a positive side, though. This could be another opportunity for Grace to put in an appearance. Now I’ve decided Grace is the one, I’m keen to move things along. At this rate, I’ll be fifty before my father gets to know her well enough to decide she’s a suitable wife.
The fact Grace hasn’t been in touch with me once since we last met is testament to how much of a business deal she sees this union as.
On the one hand, that’s a positive sign.
The last thing I need is for her to catch feelings.
I may be obsessed with her now, but fast forward a month or two, and my interest will have waned.
It always does, and she won’t be any different.
On the other hand, the egotistical Neanderthal in me is licking his wounds and pretending he’s fine.
It hurts to discover I’m not irresistible.
Let’s face it, no guy wants to admit that, even to himself.
And men say women are complicated…
I open the messaging app, then change my mind.
I want to hear her voice, to close my eyes and let her soothing tones wash over me.
Like meetings with my father, business trips involving my peers always give me anxiety.
Not that I’d ever admit as much to Dad or my brothers, but there are too many occasions where I sit in a room with the brightest minds in the world and feel like a fraud.
I’ve learned over several years to play the game.
To show confidence even when I don’t feel it. So far, it’s paid off.
Apart from that one time, when I needed to be on the ball, to pore over checks and balances, I failed, and two people were crushed to death because of it.
I’m not a martyr, sitting here all woe-is-me.
Grania and Drew have the most blame to shoulder, but paying with their lives is a cruel twist of fate neither of them, or me, saw coming.
It doesn’t matter how much time passes, I keep running over the same shit day after day.
If I’d been smarter, more attentive, diligent, they’d be alive today. In prison, for sure, but alive.
The ringing tone sounds in my ear, and I lean my head against the leather headrest, a sense of calm coming over me before she’s even answered.
“Hello.”
I close my eyes and consider that Grace has actual magical powers. “Hello yourself.”
“Christian, you’re alive.”
I sense the teasing note to her tone and break into a smile. “Phone calls and texts go in both directions, Duchess.”
“Yeah, but I’m an old-fashioned girl. I want to be chased.”
A groan rumbles through my chest, a vision speeding through my mind of a naked Grace running through the woods on the eastern side of our property, with me in hot pursuit. I catch her, both of us breathless and sweaty, and fuck her up against the thousand-year-old oak tree I used to climb as a kid.
“Christian, you still there?”
“Yeah,” I say throatily, palming my erection. “Just envisaging you running, me chasing, and what I’ll do to you when I catch you.”
She laughs. “That’s presumptuous. I’m pretty fast.”
“Yes, but with you as the prize, Grace, the Devil himself couldn’t stop me from winning that race.”
Another soft laugh echoes in my ears. “Where have you been?”
“Where haven’t I been?” I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a tired breath. “But I’m home now, and I want to see you.”
“Okay.”
“My father has set up a business meeting at The Shard tomorrow at 2 o’clock. I thought it would be a good idea if we bump into you accidentally-on-purpose if you’re free at that time.”
“I can be free.”
My stomach flips at the mere idea of seeing her. I have it bad for this one. The sooner I get her into bed, the faster I can move past this intense obsession. “Perfect. The meeting is only thirty minutes, so we’ll be in the lobby shortly after two-thirty.”
“What do you want me to do? He knows we know each other, right?”
“He does. Just act natural and give him more attention than me.”
“Flattery.”
“Precisely.”
“Got it.”
There’s a momentary lapse in conversation, although I’m more than happy just sitting here and listening to her breathe. Fuck. Who even am I?
“Christian?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s good to have you back.”
Her statement makes me ridiculously happy. “It’s good to be back, Duchess. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“If we float the fund before the end of Q4, the market will self-correct on the back of the interest rate freeze.”
Listening to Robert Le Blanc’s droning voice makes it challenging enough to hold my attention, but bond and stock markets have always been difficult for me to follow, and today is no different.
I nod along as though I’m comprehending every word, like I understand the complexities of the conversation.
I can follow enough, but I’m nowhere near an expert like Robert or my father.
“We’d need to hedge our exposure to commodities if we go down that route,” Dad says. “But, yes, I believe that would work. What do you think, Christian?”
My stomach bottoms out. I’d hoped to survive the entire meeting without being called to contribute, but Dad’s untimely question has put paid to that idea.
“I think hedging is always a good plan. I’d loop in compliance, too.”
Dad smiles, the weathered skin around his eyes crinkling. “Excellent idea.”
The two men dive into the intricacies of the deal, and I breathe a sigh of relief that I’ve kept up appearances.
My mind turns to Grace. The last woman who consumed my thoughts to this extent was Miss Houghton, my year nine buxom English teacher.
Thirteen and brimful of hormones, I’d jerked off to the idea of my head between her tits every night for months.
Then she’d walked into class one day, announced she was getting married, and the little fantasy bubble I’d manufactured burst in a rather painful manner.
“Christian.”
I blink, dragging my attention back to the present to address my father. “Sir?”
“Are we boring you?”
I curse, pushing thoughts of Grace to the back of my mind. “Not at all. My focus drifted for a second.”
“I understand the subject is a little dry for your tastes.” Dad chuckles. “Christian is far more comfortable poring over architectural drawings and plodding through building sites, but I think it’s important for one’s children to engage in all aspects of the business.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Robert says, nodding enthusiastically. “I wish my children showed more of an interest in my business. You’re lucky, Charles.”
Dad’s expression blooms with pride. “Yes, I am.”
And right there is another reason never to let Dad know what a screw up I am. His pride in me, and his belief, is something I couldn’t bear to destroy.
The meeting runs over by five minutes, and by the time we step into the lift to travel down to the lobby, I’m on pins over this meeting with Grace.
If I don’t get myself under control soon, my father will notice something’s off, and the gig will be up.
I smooth my tie and use my phone to fixate on, humming quietly to myself.
We exit on the ground floor, and as I scan the expansive lobby, my eyes are drawn to Grace like a fucking magnet.
She’s dressed in a navy trouser suit, her blonde hair in loose waves over her shoulders.
She clocks me, dips her chin ever so slightly, then walks in our direction.
I should feel guilty for deceiving my father this way, but as long as I marry and have the obligatory two point four children, I’m not sure Dad will care all that much how we get there.
Marrying Grace allows me to fulfill my duty, have some fun with her until the novelty wears off, then continue with my life exactly as before. As for kids… we’ll figure that part out in a year or two. There are other ways to have them that don’t involve sex.
Her eyes are on her phone as she approaches us, and at the very last minute, she looks up, her attention on my father. He notices her immediately and breaks out into a smile.
“Why, Grace, how lovely to see you.”
Grace returns his affection. “Mr. De Vil, sir. The same.”