Chapter 17
DRASKO
Elias jumped up from his seat, wiggling his eyebrows at Drasko. “Mrs. Mawr,” he mouthed with an excited expression on his face. “Oh, my!”
Grace walked in like a queen—there were no other words to describe her lavish light-blue summer dress with golden trim, high necklace with ruffles, the tiny hat that rested sideways like an intricate flower on her dark hair, tied into a bun at the back of her head.
Despite the stale summer heat outside, Grace looked fresh and dazzling. Women, of course, had that talent of looking the best in the worst circumstances.
For a second, Drasko wondered if she had dressed up to impress him.
Wishful thinking , her voice echoed in his mind.
Their eyes met.
Grace smiled at him as she approached, no doubt aware of another person in the room.
“Husband darling,” she said most endearingly with that hint of mockery only Drasko recognized.
“Wife dearest.” He walked up to her and, unlike any other time, leaned over to give her a kiss on her cheek.
He needed to stay away from her, but his treacherous heartbeat thought otherwise, spiking at the innocent touch and the momentary shock in her eyes.
“What a surprise,” he whispered before pulling away.
Now that he thought about it, they hadn’t touched since the morning after the wedding, when he’d pinned her against the wall.
This time, there was no sharpness in her gaze. That was surely unusual.
“I told you I wanted to know more about what you do.” She said with feigned cheerfulness, or perhaps genuine, Drasko couldn’t quite tell yet. “When Muhammad does not go to the mountain, then the mountain goes to Muhammad.”
She was definitely a stubborn pretty thing.
“Quite true,” Elias said behind her, ignored until now, turning her around. “Mrs. Mawr!”
Drasko cleared his throat. “My friend, Elias Bayne.”
“We have met before, Mr. Bayne,” Grace said with a smile.
“Indeed!”
“At my performance at the Canterbury Music Hall.”
“Correct.”
“And at the charity function at the Shirleys.”
“Oh!” Elias exchanged surprised glances with Drasko. “Great memory! I am a good friend of your husband’s.”
“My best friend,” Drasko corrected.
Grace raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know my husband had friends.”
Was she mocking him?
“One and only. A miracle, truly.” Elias bowed with a broad smile. “Should I leave you two lovebirds alone?”
“No, no, no! Please!” Grace chuckled, strangely at ease with the words. “My husband is not into lovebirds’ chatter. He is a busy man. Doesn’t have much time for his wife. Do stay!”
Drasko held back a smile, amused by her acting skills.
That was the thing he was finding out about Grace Sommerville—correction, Mawr, he really needed to get used to that Mrs. Mawr thing—she had the most innocent and angelic expression, the epitome of humbleness.
So, it was even more amusing to see her sarcastic remarks that she tried to pass off as genuine.
“I am an admirer of your talent,” Elias said.
He gallantly led Grace to the desk and offered her a seat, all the while asking questions of all kinds. He intended to make friends with her, no doubt, and Drasko was looking forward to seeing how Elias’s little enterprise went on.
The office sank into friendly chatter, Grace and Elias’s eyes on each other as if Drasko didn’t exist.
Drasko ordered tea and brandy and observed them, trying to catch her every movement, the elegant wave of her gloved hand, her graceful posture, the way her face glowed when she smiled.
“It is a pleasure to meet you again,” Elias said, leaning on his armrest to talk to her as if he were about to tell her a secret. “You see, my friend seems to be too possessive of you. He simply will not bring you for dinner at the Baynes. He is afraid you will like his friends more than him.”
Drasko sucked in his cheeks.
Grace burst out in laughter. “Mr. Bayne, may I tell you a secret?”
“Why, of course!”
She mimicked him by leaning over her armrest toward him. “My husband is not nearly as friendly with me as his friends or his guards.”
Elias frowned, mischievous laughter in his eyes. “That is unfortunate. Perhaps, he is simply not very good at pleasing women.”
Bastard.
Grace’s laughter danced across the office, and Drasko swore to himself he would strangle his best friend.
“But!” Elias grinned. “Do not get discouraged by his perhaps generally hostile air. A man who eats with his hands and walks barefoot with his laborers in India cannot be too scary.” Grace shot a surprised glance in his direction. “Are you familiar with Rakshasa?”
At that word, Drasko’s blood turned cold. It wasn’t up to Elias to tell her the story about his scars.
“Pardon me?” Grace asked.
Drasko gave him a warning glare.
“Never mind. There used to be a notorious tiger back in India where Mawr Diamond Industries operates. Since he was little, the locals called our Drasko by the tiger’s name.”
The memory flashed in Drasko’s mind, sharp and bloody, making the tattoo on his back burn.
“Because of his green eyes?” Grace inquired with humor.
“That’s a thought!” Elias nodded. “Women always notice his eyes. Perhaps, he will tell you the whole story one day.”
Perhaps not.
“But my point, Mrs. Mawr,” Elias continued in an overly cheerful and mischievous air that Grace was catching on to, “do you know what wild tigers do to their female mates?”
A pretty blush colored her cheeks as she cocked her head in endearing amusement. “Enlighten me, Mr. Bayne.”
Fucking Elias. It was a Bayne thing—stirring trouble. All Elias’s cousins, and Drasko knew a few, were notorious troublemakers.
“The female tiger bites the male to play,” Elias explained, a smile never leaving his face. “But the male tiger bites the female… wait for it”—he raised his forefinger in the air—“to have a grip on her.”
“A grip?”
“Yes. To have more control over her and make sure she doesn’t swipe at him when she is angry. So, you see, it is an affectionate bite, more of a hold, self-preservation mechanism.”
“I see, Mr. Bayne,” Grace said playfully.
Drasko was about to burst out in laughter. Perhaps, there might come a time when he would tell his dear wife that what Elias had just described, in fact happened during tigers’ mating.
“Our dear Drasko,” Elias continued his little story, “is only trying to keep you from swiping at him or running away. A precaution. Don’t mind him. He only looks scary when he is disarmed. And by a woman such as you! I am not a bit surprised.”
A trill of laughter escaped Grace. The sound of it traveled through Drasko’s skin and lodged itself in his chest.
Had he ever heard her laugh before today? No. He craved that sound again, the sight of her genuinely happy so uncommon.
But soon, Elias was leaving, kissing Grace’s hand and inviting her for dinner with his family.
Grace pursed her lips for a second. “I am not sure my husband wants me around his friends.”
“That is not true,” Drasko interjected.
She didn’t look at him, her eyes on Elias. “I am not sure he wants others to know I exist at all. If it were not for the newspaper headlines?—”
“Nonsense,” Drasko objected louder, his gaze burning into her though she ignored him.
Elias looked between the two of them. “I notice some sort of miscommunication going on. You see, Drasko is getting old. Yes, it’s true.”
Another trill of laughter fell off Grace’s lips.
Drasko almost choked in surprise—he was twenty-nine and several years younger than Elias.
“Yes, yes.” Elias nodded with theatrical graveness.
“These days, he avoids company and declines social invitations. Perhaps you, being a young soul, could take matters into your own hands, Mrs. Mawr. Do come visit! I shall send a dinner invitation addressed to you, and if the old gizzard doesn’t want to come, leave him at home. ”
Grace laughed again, that sweet trill so contagious, Drasko had to put a cigarette between his lips to distract himself.
And then his jaw dropped when she said, “Mr. Bayne, please call me Grace.”
In an instant, Elias bowed. “Well, then it is only appropriate if you call me Elias. My best friend might kill me for such informality, but it is, oh, so worth it. It would be a dream come true to hear you play.”
“You are always welcome in our house! Do come visit, Elias! It would be lovely!”
Elias raised his brows at Drasko in a silent, “I told you so.”
But as soon as Elias walked out the door, Grace’s cheerfulness was gone. It was so obvious she was nervous around Drasko. Her posture stiffened. He thought he caught a glimpse of panic in her eyes—was she afraid of him?
Drasko leaned back against his desk and stuck his hands in his pockets, studying her. “Tell me why you are really here.”