Ginny staggers into the kitchen, her eyes still half-closed as she comes to lean against me. “Morning, Momma.”
I press a kiss to her head before getting her set up with breakfast. As the kids are eating, I pick up my phone and find the number that Grafton gave me before I high-tailed it out of his office.
Lynley
We need to talk. Can we meet?
Chapter 9
Grafton
It’s been months since the Christmas party, and I still haven’t been able to scrub Lynley Delcourt from my mind, even knowing she is married to another man.
I had been battling regret, hating that I never approached her and spoke to her, never figured out the exact shade of her eyes—a bright cornflower blue that seems to see straight through me.
I know what it’s like to be betrayed by someone I thought I could trust—two of them, even—so I would never have approached her while she was taken. But when I discovered Delcourt’s duplicity, my moral compass wasn’t straight enough to turn down the opportunity he had unwittingly given me.
I sit back against the plush leather chair, my hands clenched into fists against the armrests, unable to pull my eyes away from the settee in the corner. I can still see the way she perched on the edge of the cushion, hands tucked primly into her lap.
She’d been close enough for her sweet perfume to fill my lungs; close enough for me to see the faintestdusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, hiding under a light coverage of makeup.
Lynley had been wary, understandably so. She probably was able to sense the underlying need that consumed me—an edge of darkness that drew me to her like a compulsion.
I came on too hard and too fast. I could see the agitation almost vibrating her skin as she tried pushing herself as far as she could into the corner of the couch, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
“Grafton.” I look up as Judith pokes her head around the office door, a grimace on her face. “Your brother is here to see you.”
My brow knits together. “Does he have an appointment?” My assistant shakes her head, and I sigh, checking the time. “Send him in, but give me a five-minute warning before the Kingswell Financial conference call.”
She gives me a cheeky salute. “You want coffee?”
I hesitate, not wanting anything that might encourage Thatcher to linger, but my stomach growls out a protest. “Yes, and a pastry,” I grumble.
Judith smirks at me as she backs out of the doorway. A second later, my brother is here, pushing the door firmly shut behind him, eyeing me with annoyance already etched across his face.
“Grafton.”
“Thatcher,” I return, not bothering to stand as he approaches my desk. “Surprised to see you here this early.”
Irritation flickers through his blue eyes—a darker shade than my own. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said.”
His idea of hard work is organizing appointments with his financial investor to get a report on the growth of his trust fund. He doesn’t have an ambitious bone in his body… And as if he knows what I’m thinking, the tips of his ears go red.
“I’m here about Angelica.”
I steeple my fingers together, giving him a long look. “What about her?”
“You’ve got her doing scut work,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Did you know she was here until eleven last night? She’s exhausted, and you’re not even paying her what she’s worth, let alone overtime.”
I don’t look away from him, even as my interest piques at the information he’s unwittingly giving me. “I pay her for the role she has,” I remind him. “She’s an intern, and I don’t play with nepotism at my company. She’ll work her way through the ranks, just like everyone else. I already did her a favor by taking her on early.”
His eyes darken as he steps closer, his legs almost hitting my desk. He’s staring down at me—an assertion of power that he doesn’t have. “And what about the late hours?” he demands. “Surely, she deserves to be compensated for that! She’s worked late every day this week.”
“Has she?” I smile coldly. “That’s interesting, considering she actually left early every day this week.”
His eyes bug out. “Are you calling my daughter a liar?”
