Chapter 10 Grace #2
I register that he says us, like we belong together. Like we’re meant to be. I also notice how Duke clenches and unclenches his hands at his sides. He’s fighting the urge to grab me and I’m fighting the urge to let him. We really shouldn’t be trusted in each other’s company.
“I never expected her to still be around by the time I got you here,” he continues.
“Got me here,” I echo, stoking my anger. “A minute ago, you called it giving me the opportunity to make my own choices.”
“You’ll always have choices, Grace,” he says. “I can promise you that much.”
I glare at him. “That’s not the impression you gave yesterday.”
He heaves out a sigh and his hands relax. “Emotions were running high yesterday.”
“Funny, I never noticed,” I answer back, managing to lower my voice so I’m not scratching my vocal cords this time.
“So, to be clear, I could leave Chicago right now without risking other people’s livelihoods?
” I should be relieved, but it was easier to rage about the situation when I thought the decision to stay wasn’t mine.
“I wouldn’t like it, and not only because I don’t want to lose you,” Duke says, then tips his head to the conference table. “Without your help, I’m guaranteed to fuck up the project I told Rory I could deliver.”
It’s the first glimpse I’ve had of the Duke I remember, the one I cuddled up with in bed to watch a sappy movie. Too many glimpses like that will be my undoing.
“Duke, I can’t…”
There’s a knock at the door. Ed’s been waiting for us to stop yelling at each other before making an appearance. “Would now be a good time to bring in the coffee?”
Duke’s shoulders sag. “Sure,” he says, sounding defeated.
He’s expecting me to reject him. Was that what I was about to do? I wish I was as certain.
Ed struggles to find somewhere to set down the tray on the conference table, so I pick up a pile of papers and clear some space.
He gives me a wink. “Your usual, Ma’am.”
Duke’s coffee remains on the tray next to a freshly-printed document. It’s the non-disclosure agreement.
“Give me a shout if you need anything else,” Ed says, but pauses before he leaves. He quirks an eyebrow and adds, “Although, I’d say there’s been enough shouting in here for one day. Keep it down kids, you’re going to disturb the neighbors.”
Edison might have delivered it as a joke, but it’s also a warning. If he can hear us yelling at each other, anyone passing by could too. He has a point.
I slump into a conference chair. My outburst has drained me of barely-there-energy after another sleepless night. I can’t look at Duke, but I’m very much aware he’s standing over me, watching. I take a sip of my coffee and give my full attention to the papers I’d picked up.
Project Name: Brimstage Luxury Spa Retreat
Oliver had tried showing me some of his plans yesterday, but I’d been in shock after my reunion with Duke and I hadn’t taken anything in. I flick through the pages and pause on a thumbnail of the property. My jaw slackens. The colonial-style mansion has an eye-watering square footage.
“It was in the Corbyn family for over a hundred years,” Duke says.
I glance up and catch him moving closer. He sees me tense and I hear his sigh as he circles the table to take the seat opposite.
“Maddie Corbyn married one of the Griffins last year,” he continues. He sounds exhausted too, although battle-weary might be a better description. “Corbyn House became surplus to their requirements.”
“The Griffins?”
“Four brothers. Self-made billionaires. Their base is here in Chicago, but their varied business interests are spread far and wide. They deliberately keep out of the limelight, so you won’t have heard of them.”
“You keep out of the limelight too,” I note. I’d finally had the courage to Google Duke and Katarina last night. “Your engagement barely gets a mention on the internet in spite of all the press interest.”
“I have friends who can suppress sensitive information.”
“Friends like the Griffins?” I guess. He nods. “It doesn’t sound legal.”
“It isn’t.”
Working on Corbyn House is suddenly less appealing. “Are you saying the Griffins are criminals?”
“They’re good people,” Duke corrects, but then shrugs. “Most of the time. Some might describe them as morally grey.”
I can see now why he wanted me to sign the NDA. Being associated with criminal activity would be hugely detrimental to the Moncrief brand and could wipe billions of dollars off their share value. “And these Griffins are your friends?”
Duke flattens his lips, holding back his words while he considers how much to share. “They help us out occasionally and we do favors for them in return.” He picks up his coffee and stares into the dark liquid. “Katarina is one of those favors. And for the record, she’s neither poor nor na?ve.”
I sit a little straighter. With everything that’s happened, there’s one small detail I’d completely forgotten. “She’s Russian, isn’t she?”
“Yes.” He holds my gaze as he picks up the NDA and slides it over to me. “You need to sign this.”
I should argue, or at the very least read the small print, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he’s reaching for the agreement at the first mention of Katarina being Russian.
I don’t know if this will guarantee I get the answers I need, but I’m absolutely certain Duke’s going to remain stubbornly silent if I don’t.
In truth, I don’t care what the agreement threatens.
If and when I walk away, I won’t want to talk about what nearly happened between us.
If I could, I’d expunge every memory I’ve savored of Duke over the last year.
As if conjuring those thoughts, memories flit across my mind that make my thighs clench.
Fine, I’m a big, fat liar. There are some things Duke did to me that I’d relive over and over, and in one instance, I have the soundtrack to get me there faster.
I’d shown great restraint last night by not listening to the recording, but my willpower won’t hold out indefinitely.
When I pick up the document, Duke offers me the pen from his breast pocket. I go to take it, but he holds on to it, prolonging the connection between us. The ice in his eyes has begun to thaw. So have my insides.
No. Not happening. I snatch the pen and scribble my signature next to the tab Ed had inserted. I slide the pages back to Duke without reading a single line.
“You were telling me about Katarina.”
He remains stony-faced, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “Was I?”
I fold my arms across my chest and scowl. Fine, if he won’t offer the information without prompting, I’m just going to fire off more questions. I start with the one I’m almost too afraid to ask. “Does Katarina have something to do with organized crime?”
“Yes.”
My throat constricts and it hurts to swallow. “You’re seriously considering marrying into a crime family?” Sweat trickles down my back and I pull at the roll neck of my too-thick sweater.
“No.”
Another one-word answer. I should have just kept yelling at him. “You’re just pretending?” I get a nod this time. “Until when?”
“One way or another, this is going to be resolved in the next six weeks.”
“One way or another?” I repeat. “And would one way be marrying her?”
“No, Grace. I’d rather face a slow, painful death than that,” he says quickly. He shakes his head and sighs. “Either the Griffins will fake Katarina’s death so she can disappear to somewhere the Bratva can’t find her, or her uncle gets impatient and drags her back to Russia.”
“The Bratva?”
“Russian mafia. The Pakhan, or leader of this family, is Katarina’s uncle. Vasili Barkov.”
My stomach hollows out. I shouldn’t have asked. “What happens if this uncle finds out you’ve been fooling him? Isn’t that dangerous? Would he hurt you?”
He shifts in his seat. “Not if all goes to plan,” he says.
He notices me wince and actually smiles.
I think he’s just glad to have proof that I can still care about him.
“It’s going to work out fine. I’m just helping Katarina start a new life where she can’t be exploited. I hope you see now why I’m doing this.”
I’m already shaking my head. “No, I don’t see. I don’t see at all,” I say, still angry but not necessarily at Duke. “How could your so-called friends get you involved in something so… so damn reckless. They’ve put you in danger.”
“It was my choice and I have my reasons,” he says stubbornly. “I’ll admit it’s gone on far too long and become far too complicated, but I wanted to help Katarina. I still do.” He closes his hands into fists then forces them open again. “She’s just being a little uncooperative right now.”
My jaw drops. “Oh, this gets better. The woman you’re trying to rescue is refusing to cooperate? Make that make sense, Duke.”
“It’s just her way. It’s how she’s been brought up by her uncle,” he tries to explain. “You’d know what I mean if you met her.”
“And will I meet her?” It’s the last thing I’d want, but I have to ask, “Does she know about me?”
“God, no,” Duke says quickly. Too quickly.
When I stare at him for too long, the hulk of a man in front of me bows his head and stares into his coffee.
I lean forward. “Given your relationship is supposed to be a charade, I can think of only two reasons why you’d want to keep us apart. Either you’re lying to me…”
His head snaps up. “I appreciate I’m a long way from winning back your trust, but fuck you, Grace. I’m not spinning you some story to get into your bed.” His thick neck cords. “Katarina and I are not involved beyond what I’ve already told you.”
I don’t cower from his searing gaze. “In that case, you’re keeping us apart because you think I need protecting. Would I be in danger if Katarina’s uncle thought you were cheating on his niece?”
Duke moves his mug to the side and reaches across the table.
He doesn’t try to grab me. He splays out his hand, inviting me to meet him halfway if I dare.
“I do want to protect you,” he admits. “But only because I don’t want Katarina knowing I have feelings for you, and if she saw the way I look at you, she’d know. ”
I blink hard. He’s just admitted he has feelings for me. And OK, maybe that should be obvious by now, but still. He said it out loud. This should be some warm, fuzzy moment between us, but it isn’t. Not when we’re talking about Duke’s fiancée. “She’d be jealous?”
“She’d be cruel and vindictive just to see how we’d react.
She likes drama,” he says, making me wonder again why the hell he’s helping her.
“But if I thought you were in any real danger, I would have let you leave yesterday. Hell, I would have made you leave. The greatest threat is Vasili, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care who I fuck.
Only who I marry. And I’m guessing you and I aren’t at that stage yet. ”
It’s hard to tell If the rush of heat sweeping up through my body is fueled by fear or the implication that at some point, we might want to talk about marriage.
I can’t allow that thought to take hold.
This man might have taken up residence in my soul for the last year, but we’ve known each other for what amounts to only a few days.
“I will clean up this mess,” Duke promises. “Vasili has given Katarina a deadline of getting married before her twenty-first birthday. That’s the six-week deadline.”
Damn, she’s even younger than I thought.
“I don’t…” I don’t know how to process what he’s telling me. “What the hell did you expect to happen yesterday?” I ask. When his features scrunch and he fights a smirk, I know exactly where his thoughts have slipped. He has his own damn list. I try again. “What do you expect of me now?”
“I thought we could do what we did in Philadelphia.” He waits for my cheeks to heat up before he adds, “I thought we could contain what this is within these four walls,” he adds, then deflates with a sigh.
“But that was unfair of me. Fake fiancée or not, I should have known better than to put you in this situation after what Cameron did to you, so I promise here and now that I won’t hit on you.
All I ask is that you don’t write me off just yet.
Can you do that? Will you stay? Please.”
The tears welling in my eyes make my vision shimmer. I have a choice. I can end this nightmare now, or I can hold out for the dream ending. With Duke. For my sins, I still want the possibility of him.
My voice is barely a whisper. “OK.”
“Good.” Duke turns his outstretched hand over, palm facing upwards, waiting for mine. A smile I know I shouldn’t trust pulls at the corners of his mouth. “I miss you, Angel.”
“Duke…” I warn, holding myself tense in case my body overrides my good sense.
“It’s just holding hands,” he reassures me.
The last time our hands were entwined, Duke was inside me. He knows that. My pussy knows it too and clenches around a memory.
“I promise I won’t fuck you. I won’t even try to kiss you, not until Katarina takes that rock off her finger,” Duke says, using the same tone of voice he used when he invited me up to his room and told me to take what I needed.
“But the very second she takes it off, we start ticking things off our lists.”
My fingers tingle and an electric charge runs the length of my arm. For my sins, I want to take what I need right now, but the fates stage another intervention when Duke’s office door swings open abruptly.
“I knew I should have locked the fucking door,” Duke mutters under his breath.
I’m ready for him to yell more expletives at Ed, but when I turn, there are two men behind me.
They’re built like warriors, not quite to Duke’s scale, but just as devastatingly handsome.
Their suits are sharp and tailored, although the younger of the two looks like he slept in his.
His flame-licked hair is unruly and he has noticeable stubble along his chiseled jaw. The other man is perfectly groomed.
The pair are like night and day, but there’s no doubt they’re brothers. And now that Duke’s hair has grown, the familial connection between all three is obvious. Duke’s brothers wear half-hidden smiles similar to the one Duke had been fighting moments ago. Not that he’s smiling now.