“You did?” Astonished, she turned the ring this way and that way, examining it from every angle. “They do?”
“Yes,” he softly, almost as though he was confessing a big secret.
“It’s perfect for me.”
Kissing her cheek, he began lightly rubbing her shoulder. “May I take you to London tomorrow, to meet my friends and… others?”
By others she knew he meant press and the ever ominous sounding Board of Romanov Industries. “I’d love to, but I don’t have a passport.”
“I’ll take care of that, and every other expense.” He exhaled. “I’ll need you to stay for a couple of weeks.
Despite going to England being number one on her bucket list and his offer of paying for everything, she hesitated. “I still have my business to run.”
“Can you reschedule?”
Honestly, she didn’t have any clients for the next three weeks. “March is a slow month for me,” she admitted.
“Can you pack everything you need tomorrow, while I take care of your passport, and be ready by six PM? We’ll take off at seven.” He rolled her under him and she was astonished to find him hard. “I know how we can spend the duration of the flight.”
“I’m scared of flying,” she whispered, even as her body responded to the slow caresses he’d started giving it.
His hand drifted lower, to between her thighs, and he slid a finger inside of her. She sucked in air. “I’ll take very good care of you,” he murmured, dipping his head to her chest. Using his teeth, he tugged on a nipple, and then swirled his tongue around it. “Say yes.”
Another finger joined in, his thumb pressing on her clitoris and he sucked her nipple deep inside his hot mouth. “Yes.”
Daisy woke to Sebastian gently shaking her shoulder. “We’re starting our descent.”
She blinked up at him, then yawned and rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?” Instead of him taking very good care of her, she’d ended up taking a sleeping pill and crashed on his couch about thirty minutes into the flight. The last thing she remembered talking about was the Church of St. Clemmons.
“Four-thirty AM your time. Nine-thirty mine,” he said with a rueful grin. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay.” The plane bounced, and then slowed as it taxied on the runway. Pressing her nose against the closest window, she took in the sight of Heathrow Airport. “It seems like I just got on the plane.”
“While for me, it was endless torture of you humming in your sleep,” he said and she turned to face him, giving him a come-on look
“Humming in my sleep?” she asked. “You’re so full of it.”
“Don’t believe me, eh?” He unbuckled his seatbelt and joined her on the sofa. “I videoed you with my mobile.” His thumb glided over the screen of his cell.
Her mouth fell open. There she lay, alternately mumbling and humming in her sleep. “That’s so wrong.”
“Agreed,” he said and she lightly punched him in the shoulder as he pocketed his cell. “Watch it. Very fragile equipment could be damaged.”
“Oops.” Splaying her fingers, she admired her pretty ring. “Sorry, I’ll be more careful with your jewelry.”
Taking her hand, he kissed the tip of each finger. “I meant these.”
“Oh,” she breathed, so charmed by him that she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Come here, beautiful,” he said with a smile. She scrambled to him, throwing her arms around his neck.
“You’re not worried about me messing up your suit?”
“There’s enough starch in this to withstand even your pawing,” he said dryly, and then pressed a kiss onto the top of her head.
She narrowed her eyes. “Better watch it. Or else.”
A familiar, smug look came over him, one she called his I’m-the-earl-and-you-must-quiver-before-me look. Only she quivered for entirely different reasons. “Else what?”
“No. More. Cupcakes. For. You.”
“Cruel, Miss Barnes. Doing away with my daily cupcake ration is in violation of the Geneva Conventions.”
She arched a brow. “Seriously?”
“I am always serious, darling,” he said with a frown, but his eyes twinkled as he lifted her from his lap and stood. “Ah, the limo is here. Customs first though.”
“Oh. I have something to tell you,” she said. “Someone claiming to be your mother has been emailing me and wanting to know—”
He grabbed her wrist, squeezing. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.” Daisy stepped into him, tracing the pattern of his tie with the fingers of her free hand. His grip lessened, but the look on his face chilled her. “I blocked her as spam, but I thought you’d want to know.”
“I’ll have your email account monitored.” He pulled his cell from his pocket.
“No.”
Thumb frozen over the screen, he blinked at her. “Sorry?”
“Emails are private, unless you’d let me monitor yours,” she said, letting her arm fall and pulling her wrist out of his grasp. She grabbed her purse as the plane came to a stop.
“Out of the question,” he snapped before nodding at the flight attendant to open the door to the plane.
They descended the stairs, and with every step, Sebastian’s stance became more rigid. When he paused at the bottom to offer her his hand, she almost stumbled at what she saw. Face tight, eyes like glaciers and a little sneer in his upper lip.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly, then slipped her hand in his, or tried to. He directed her fingers to his elbow, like they were at a fancy party.
He paused. “Look, in Holland Springs, I was more…relaxed than usual.”
Her mouth dropped open slightly. He’d been relaxed? “Is that why you won’t hold my hand?”
“We’re not in nursery school, darling,” he said as custom officers came to them, with their equipment and questions.
Hurt rose inside of her, swift and deep. What did nursery school have to do with hand holding? And where had the man whose lap she’d sat in on the plane gone? The man who had said that Jules Westmoreland—wait a minute…How did he know Jules’ last name?
Her diamond flashed along with the unmistakable click of cameras, pulling her out of her thoughts.
Oh, yeah, the man she’d slept with was her fake fiancé. Emphasis on the word fake.
He’d placed her hand directly in the line of sight for the paparazzi watching them. She couldn’t forget that. No matter how amazing the sex, how charming or sweet he could be to her, (and apparently only in private or back home), this relationship of theirs wouldn’t last.
They didn’t speak again, until they were in the limo, and that was only to inform her where they would be going first—his house in Mayfair on Berkley Square. Then his phone rang and for the next three minutes, she listened with half an ear to his conversation, then directed her attention to what was outside her window.
The limo practically flew past pastures, then streets, houses, and shops. A traffic snarl and his sudden silence had her fiddling with her engagement ring.
“Daisy,” he began. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, but—”
She held up a hand, then lowered it and took a deep breath. “You can’t apologize then qualify it with a ‘but’. It makes it meaningless.”
“I rarely apologize.”
Tilting her head to one side, she frowned. “Is that supposed to make me feel special?”
His lips thinned before he went straight back to work on his phone. She sighed and lurched forward, then back against the leather seat when the limo took a left. She heard a sharp crack and part of her bun went all loose.
“Dang it,” she said as she tried to fix her hair. Unfortunately, she came back with half a chopstick. The light green ones were her lucky pair. She pulled out the other one and tucked them in her purse. Guess they weren’t so lucky anymore.
Sebastian cleared his throat and she glanced up at him. He held his hand over his phone. “Sorry, but could you keep it down? I’m on a very important conference call.”
Her phone vibrated in her coat pocket and she fished for it, snagging it with the tips of her fingers. Better to answer that than him, because she did not have very nice things to say.
Isabella: Sunny in the tropics. How are things with S?
Her frown gave way to a real smile. Isabella had added a picture of herself posing by the pool with a couple of hot lifeguards.
Daisy: Fine. Making friends, I see. ;)
Isabella: Yep, from yesterday. Ack! Why are you up?
Daisy: I’m in London with the earl of crap apologies. Why are you up?
Isabella: Getting ready for bed. Don’t judge. Plane leaves early tomorrow. Also, London??? Crap apologies???
Daisy: Not even. Did you ever mention Jules’s last name to Sebastian?
Isabella: No.
Daisy: K. Maybe Zoe did. Anyway, be safe. Will email you all the details later. K?
Isabella: Fine. *pouts* Better be some juicy ones! Xoxo
Daisy: Night. Xoxo
“At least someone is making you smile,” Sebastian said and Daisy jerked her head up.
“How did you know Jules’ last name was Westmoreland?” she asked.
Before he could answer, the limo came to a stop. A doorman rushed over and opened the car door. Guess she’d have to ask him again later. She shivered in the cold morning, glancing up at the imposing building. “Is this your house?”
He placed one foot out of the limo, and then paused. “No, I’m headed to work. Henshaw will see you to Number Forty-Eight.”
“You’re just leaving me alone? In a place I’ve never been before? Without friends or family? Or—”
“Christ, Daisy. Calm down. You’re in London, not some third world country.” He got out of the car and bent down slightly. “See you for dinner tonight.” His cold eyes travelled over her. “Consider something different than what you’d usually wear.”
The door shut, while her mouth dropped open. “I’m totally cutting you off from cupcakes and me,” she finally managed, watching through the tinted glass as he walked away.
That was not well done of him.
Sebastian pressed the button for the top floor and waited, mentally berating himself. Would it have hurt to see her home himself? Or even to have spent the day with her, showing her around London?
She’d talked non-stop about all the places she wanted to go before falling asleep mid-sentence. Tourist traps, the lot of them. However, he could have taken the time with her, playing the part of fantastically in love man while actually being a fantastically in love man.
However, there was work to be done. The multiple phone calls he’d received had reminded him of that. It was familiar. Purposeful. Nothing had changed there.
Romanov Industries still needed him, even if he had been voted out. He was still the go-to guy. Years of grooming by his father had seen to that.
Perfection, drive, and a firm dedication to the family business were top priorities. Little time spent pursuing anything else, unless it benefitted Romanov.
So polo matches and football teams were turned from great fun into business deals. Though he did love to win, and win often he did. Consideration, of course, was always given to the Princes. Never play better than Royalty does, even if you’re on the same team.
The lift doors opened and he stepped out. “Ah, there you are, Mr. Romanov,” his secretary said, blackberry in hand.
Striding towards his office, he nodded at his office staff. “Cancel my six o’clock meeting with Meldinski. Reschedule for tomorrow at nine,” Sebastian said as they entered his office. The first thing he had done after his father had passed was to move Romanov Industries to this block of Berkley Square. All ten thousand square feet of fully staffed modern and classic office space.
“Very good, sir. I’ll leave you to your tea.” His secretary quit the room.
A butler brought in a tray of tea and scones, placing it on a table near the window. Routine. Efficiency. Thank God for it.
Though as he bit into one, he couldn’t help but compare it to Daisy’s sweets. Maybe he could get her to try making some for him.
He made a noise. Doubtful, since he’d royally mucked things up. The butler would sooner tap dance his way out of Sebastian’s office.
Perhaps he should offer an olive branch. He pulled his mobile out of his pocket.
You may take a nap in any bedroom you choose –S Especially his, he wanted to add, but didn’t.
Less than a minute later came her reply: That’s so generous of you ~D
Yep, he was an ass, and he had to think of an explanation for how he knew Jules’s last name. He was pretty damn sure she wouldn’t go for his Zoe told me, and he suspected she’d already quizzed Isabella about it.
Pocketing his phone, he exhaled.
A discreet knock on his office door and it opened. His best mate, Liam Stewart, strode in with a grim look on his face.
“Sebastian.”
“Hullo, Liam.”
“Cancel whatever plans you have for the next day and a half, we’ve meetings with Liang Technologies and need to prepare.”
Successful negotiations with the Hong Kong based company would greatly improve his standings with the Board. “Of course.” Guilt pricked at him like sharp needles of a cactus. He would have to find something for Daisy to do while he closed this deal. “Is Verity in the country?”
Liam shook his head. “Left this morning. Why?”
Sebastian set down his cup of tea. “Thought she could spend time with Daisy, maybe give her a tour of all the tourist traps.”
