Chapter 6 Lex #3
“How would anyone get my secure number?” I asked, desperately trying to focus.
“The same way you hacked my systems,” he replied, his voice low.
We sat in silence, the weight of the threat hanging between us. Con leaned closer, and for a breathless moment, I thought he might kiss me. His gaze dropped to my lips, then moved back to my eyes.
I found myself swaying toward him, rational thought evaporating in the heat of his proximity. At the last second, we both pulled away, the spell broken by mutual caution.
“We should go inside,” he said roughly, putting distance between us.
I managed a weak smile, struggling to compose myself. “Yes. Of course.”
Bastion met us at the entrance, his impeccable timing almost suspicious. “My lord, Mrs. Thorne asked me to inform you that she’s prepared a special meal for you and Dr. Sterling to be served in the formal dining room in two hours.”
Con raised an eyebrow. “The formal dining room?”
“She thought it appropriate for the occasion, sir.”
“What occasion?” I asked.
Bastion merely smiled. “I believe she felt it warranted, given Dr. Sterling’s presence and, err, the holiday.”
Con’s expression indicated this was unusual but not unwelcome. “Please thank her.”
When he suggested we freshen up and change for dinner, I welcomed the time alone as much as I dreaded it. I was no stranger to threats, but this one felt too close with too much information. What was the sender implying with, “Not everyone at Blackmoor is what they appear”?
I showered, momentarily contemplating begging off dinner, but thought better of it.
Bastion made it sound as though Mrs. Thorne had made a special effort, and whether it was on my behalf or not, I couldn’t be ungracious and skip the meal.
In the closet where I’d put the clothes that were also a courtesy of Mrs. Thorne, I found a velvet maxi dress that was elegant and casual at the same time.
Below it were a pair of flats that matched the dress and looked as comfortable as slippers.
As I descended the grand staircase, Con stepped out of a nearby room and waited at the bottom for me.
“You look lovely,” he said, taking my hand in a way that made me feel as though I’d fallen asleep and my dreams landed me in a historical romance novel.
Those thoughts were reinforced when we stepped into the formal room I’d only peeked in previously, and saw the massive chamber, with its vaulted ceiling and medieval tapestries, had been transformed into an intimate setting.
Near the windows overlooking the moonlit gardens, a small table had been arranged with candles and fresh flowers. The rest of the cavernous space remained in shadow, creating the illusion of privacy.
Bastion pulled out my chair with an air of elegance, and moments later, an older woman with kind eyes appeared, carrying a silver serving tray.
“Dr. Sterling, this is Mrs. Thorne.” Con introduced us as she set a plate in front of each of us. “She’s the reason this old place remains standing.”
She smiled, and her cheeks flushed. “Lord Blackmoor is such a charmer,” she said, looking over at me.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said warmly. “Thank you for the lovely wardrobe you arranged and for this beautiful dinner.”
“You’re most welcome, Dr. Sterling. I hope everything fit properly.”
“Perfectly, actually. It’s remarkable, given you hadn’t yet met me.”
She took a step back, gave a slight bow at the waist, and motioned to our plates. “Lord Blackmoor’s favorite salad with blue cheese, pears, and walnuts.”
He reached up and took her hand. “While I appreciate the formality, given the occasion, you haven’t called me Lord Blackmoor in years, Helena.”
“Yes, Con,” she replied with motherly affection before giving him an odd glance, then excused herself, promising to return with the next course.
“She seems flustered,” I observed once she’d gone. “Did I say something wrong?”
Con cleared his throat. “Not at all. It’s just that…” He paused, looking uncomfortable. “When arranging your wardrobe, I may have consulted your MI6 file for your, err, vital statistics.”
“My file?” I set down my fork. “You mean my complete dossier?”
His expression confirmed my suspicion. “I simply wanted to ensure everything would fit properly.”
A strange chill settled over me. How many women had stayed at Blackmoor, requiring his staff to arrange for a change of clothing? How many had sat at this same table, enjoying Mrs. Thorne’s special meal? Had this been his approach with Fallon as well? The thought made me ill.
“Are you all right?” Con asked, noticing my changed demeanor.
I set down my napkin. “Actually, I’m suddenly not feeling well. If you’ll excuse me, I think I should retire.”
“Lex—”
“Thank you for dinner.” I rose quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Please give Mrs. Thorne my apologies.”
I fled the dining room, mortification and an inexplicable sense of betrayal fueling my retreat. How could I have been so foolish? Con Carnegie was known for his strategic manipulation of situations and people. I’d allowed myself to become just another woman susceptible to his wily ways.
I was almost to my room when I heard rapid footsteps behind me.
“Lex, wait.” Con’s voice halted me in the corridor. “What happened back there?”
I turned, struggling to maintain my composure. “Nothing. I’m simply tired.”
“That’s not it.” He stepped closer, eyes searching mine. “Something changed. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.” His voice softened as he reached up, gently cupping my cheek. “I wish you’d talk to me.”
The warmth of his palm against my skin melted my resistance. His touch was tentative, almost reverent—nothing like the calculated gesture I’d imagined.
“I wish I could,” I whispered, my defenses crumbling beneath his gaze.