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Proud.
He looked proud of me.
It made my heart flutter to a whole different tune.
“You’re very welcome, little princess,” he said, and I could barely move, not even when he held the door open.
He hadn’t called me that in years.Chapter EightMilesThank holy fuck we got to Brayburn’s. I was torn in half, the two sides at each other’s throats and being mediated by the only version of me with any sense left in his skull.
On one side was the man who loved the sweet little girl who’d captured my heart over a lifetime. I loved her enthusiasm for life, and her cute little tone, and the way she tried so hard to be such a sharp little cookie. On the other side was the filthy dirty Miles who was craving with every cell in his deviant body to make that little princess mine.
It was the sane, rational business version of me that was holding the line in any way fucking steady.
Her eyes were wide as I held the door open for her, a little gasp of breath sounding out before she stepped over the threshold. I cleared my throat and headed for the reception desk, cursing myself to get a fucking grip until Graham Brayburn came on through.
I introduced him to Faith as soon as he arrived with us, and sure enough his eyes roved right the way over her. She grinned back at him immune.
His nod at me over her head spoke volumes, but I couldn’t bring myself to nod back. I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but scowl right on over at him.
He shook it off and got down to business as soon as we were through to his office. We spoke about what kind of antiques he was interested in for the suites at his Quayside hotel and what we should be keeping an eye out for. I tried to keep my eyes on him, but I couldn’t stop the way they flitted over to my side, soaking up Faith’s big baby blues as she swallowed up every little thing he was saying.
I wasn’t expecting her to chip in with thoughts of her own, but they seemed to come naturally. A simplicity in her tone sang a truly beautiful tune.
“Have you thought about an ebonised credenza?” she asked him. “If you want the contrast with the white of the walls, it could look so impressive with the painted front panel.”
And she was right. Holy fuck, she was right.
Graham knew it just as well as I did.
“An ebonised credenza would be perfect for that spot,” he said. “Please do keep an eye out for one.”
Her smile was a beacon. A gorgeous little beacon of pride.
It made my heart soar higher than my fucking dick for once.
Once she had the confidence from that one success, she was very forthcoming with some other ideas. They were all truly exceptional little gems of instinct.
By the time we wrapped up for the afternoon she had a whole page full of her own scribbles in addition to mine.
She shook his hand so hard before saying goodbye, and his nod over her head this time was about a whole load more than her ass in her pencil skirt.
“Lovely to meet you,” he said to her, and meant it.
“Really pleased to meet you too,” she said right back.
I couldn’t stop staring at her as we crossed the car park. Her happiness was palpable, blooming out from her bright enough to burn.
“Well done to the clever pumpkin,” I said when we were back in the car.
“Thanks,” she said, and that grin of hers was at full radiance. “I really loved it.”
We talked about his requests and went over the details afresh, and for once it was the good man Miles who won the battle. The one that had adored that little girl since she was a tiny little dot eating her cereals. I couldn’t stop the way I smiled at her and told her she was a sharp little cookie. I couldn’t stop the way I was beaming with pride for the good girl who’d done so well.
At first she loved it, I could see it in her eyes beaming back at me.
At first she was that little girl so pleased to have been so good and so clever.
But then it changed. Slowly but surely on the drive back home it changed.
Until she didn’t want it anymore.
“You really have got a talent for matching the items with the buyers,” I said again with the same proud smile on my face. “That’s my girl, princess. You always were such a little smartie.”
And that’s when she shifted. That’s when the first flare of something else zapped out to bite me.
“I’m not a little smartie anymore,” she said, and there was a fire in her voice I hadn’t heard before.
