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‘Who are you looking for?’ Lucy asks, coming in closer, leaving the boys behind her chatting and laughing.
‘Alexa.’
‘Who’s Alexa?’
‘My equivalent of your printer-room girl. Except bitchier. And more conniving.’
‘Oh,’ she breathes, taking a glimpse round the room. ‘Hey, is that her?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t look.’
‘Well, she’s spitting nails this way, so I guess it is. Blonde, perfect legs.’
‘That’s her.’
‘What is it with perfect fucking legs?’ Lucy asks. ‘I hate her.’
‘Who is she with?’
‘Mature woman. Red gown with fur.’
‘That’s the countess. Her aunt. Also a fan of Becker’s.’
‘Nice.’ Lucy knocks my knee, turning into the table, and I join her, pushing back thoughts of Alexa and what game she’s playing. ‘It’s a bit swanky, isn’t it?’ She lifts her glass and swishes her champagne, looking around.
‘Yes, some seriously posh shit,’ I quip, and she chuckles. ‘Do you feel out of place?’ I ask, hoping it’s a big fat yes. I feel really out of place. I could do with a friend to join me there.
‘Nah.’ She downs her drink and moans her pleasure. ‘These aristocratic humpty-dumpty pillocks don’t intimidate me. Money can’t buy you happiness, Eleanor. Under all of these couture dresses and precious gems are a bunch of unfulfilled miserable bitches.’ She grins. ‘I wish I had gone for tits and legs.’
I laugh loudly and chink my glass with her empty. I’m so glad she’s here keeping me grounded.Chapter 33Dinner is pleasant. We share a table with some people who Becker knows through business – more hoity-toity old farts – and chat enthusiastically about the trade. After we eat, Mark and Lucy excuse themselves to go explore Countryscape, and Becker shifts across to Lucy’s chair. I watch him lower to the seat, smiling when I notice his bow tie is uneven, one side hanging longer than the other. I reach over and straighten it up for him.
Taking my hands from his neck, he brings them to his lap and brushes thoughtfully over my skin with his thumbs.
‘This isn’t you,’ I say quietly, shuffling my chair in to get closer to him. ‘All of the snobbish people, the noses in the air, the showiness. It’s not you.’
He smiles down at my hands, and then slowly lifts his gaze to mine. His hazel orbs are shining so brightly past the lenses of his glasses. ‘You’ve called me a holier-than-thou twat plenty of times, princess.’ He brings my hands to his mouth and kisses them tenderly. ‘But I’ll never be holier than thou.’
‘You’re becoming quite the romantic, Saint Becker.’
‘Shhhh,’ he hushes me, his lips full and kissable. ‘Don’t tell anyone.’ Leaning in, he nips at my cheek before encouraging me to stand. ‘We need to make pleasantries with someone,’ he says, leading me from the table.
‘Who?’ I don’t like the sorry look he points at me. Not at all.
‘She’s been trying to collar me all evening.’
I look up and see the dreaded countess but note just as quickly that Alexa is nowhere in sight. It’s a mild consolation. ‘Oh no,’ I grumble.
‘She’s bought the Rembrandt for thirty-five million. A few gracious words are a small price.’
‘Yes, exactly. She’s bought it. Job done.’
‘The money isn’t in the bank yet.’
I could do with an iron to smooth out the creases on my screwed-up face. Her smile is getting wider and wider as we get closer and closer, and my hand is constricting harder and harder around Becker’s.
‘Becker, darling.’ She throws her arms out, beckoning him into her embrace, and I slap on an over-the-top smile, squeezing Becker’s hand tighter when he flexes his fingers to release me. He casts a questioning look at me and virtually yanks himself free.
‘Lady Finsbury,’ he says, presenting his cheek for her to kiss. ‘Very good to see you.’
‘And you.’ She holds him by the biceps. I want to immediately disinfect him. ‘I missed you.’ She puckers her lips, showing a hint of a coy smile.
‘I left you in capable hands.’ He gently breaks away from her. ‘I know Eleanor looked after you.’ Reaching back, he grabs my wrist and pulls me forwards, as if calling for reinforcements. I should make him deal with her unbearable snooty arse alone. She’s positively unbearable. My face is going to split if I have to uphold this ridiculously stretched smile any longer.
The countess gives me the once over with eyes full of contempt. ‘I hear no one’s hands are as capable as yours, Becker.’
My stomach twists violently, my mind begging me to run before I make a spectacle of myself. God help me before I shred her. ‘Pleasure to see you again, Lady Finsbury.’
She sniffs, obviously disagreeing, and looks back to Becker. Her smile returns immediately. ‘Have you seen Alexa? She’s looking radiant this evening.’
I lock my lips tightly shut and mentally plead for Becker to remove me from this god-awful situation. Alexa didn’t look so radiant when I caught her watching Becker fuck me against the wall. The thought brings a secret smile to my face.
