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Don’t Look Down

Page 33

by Michae Marie

“Thank you for that headache tomorrow,” Lock grumbles, squaring his shoulders to Beau. He’s partially obstructed my view of him, but I don’t need to see him to know that he’s unapologetic.

“The guy was being a dick, he cut a check that barely quantified as a tax break, and I couldn’t stand to just let him run his mouth about Juliette and the team. They’ve been doing an outstanding job, not that you’d know, and I don’t really care if it creates a headache for you tomorrow. You don’t have to kiss his ass, remember? You’re the heir. He’s the one who will be groveling to you.”

I want to throw my fist in the air, championing Beau on, but I fold my hands together and wait for Lock’s response.

“We’ll speak of this later,” he says tersely. Then he whirls to me, and I wait to be reprimanded for speaking up as well. But he says, “If you’ll excuse me one moment, I’ll be back shortly.”

I stifle a sigh of relief. “Of course.”

Lock strides away with long, purposeful steps. And with him, he takes the attention of every single guest in the room. My knees about buckle, and I lean against the wall.

It’s a blessed few moments of peace before Beau slips closer. He stands far enough away to not draw attention our way, though. Plus, everyone is either still watching Lock, who is now chatting to a few men I don’t recognize, the previous interaction quickly forgotten, or the King and Queen who are cutting into his birthday cake.

Neither of us looks at the other.

“We need to talk,” Beau murmurs.

“No, we don’t.”

“You can use him as a shield tonight, but that won’t work forever.”

“There’s nothing to say,” I shoot back. “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gone out to dinner, and I definitely shouldn’t have followed you onto that roof.”

A heavy pause, then, “That’s it then?”

My eyes burn as I continue to stare straight ahead. “Unless you have plans to tell your brother, there’s nothing left to say. I’m sorry that it happened, and it won’t again.” I’m not going to beg him not to tell Lock. If he felt loyalty to his brother over me, I can’t fault him for it.

But the fact that he hasn’t told him already leads me to believe that he has no intentions of letting anyone else know.

“Briar—”

“Stop it, he’s coming back.” I hope to God that Lock can’t read lips, or that the pulse racing wildly in my throat isn’t visible to the naked eye. He comes back, glancing between the two of us, but nothing registers on his face.

Instead he offers his arm once again, the only physical contact he’s initiated all night, I realize, and inclines his head toward the group he was just talking to. “Will you join me? There’re some old friends I’d like to introduce you to.”

I ignore Beau completely as I accept Lock’s offer and smile dutifully at him. “Of course.”

He leads me away without a backward glance at his brother. I follow his lead and do the same.

Even as I feel his gaze on my back like a brand the rest of the evening.

Twelve

Less than twenty-four hours later, I find myself back at Caulfield Palace. This time in much less glam and a simple, floral sundress, but no less put together.

Not since Lock called this morning and asked if I were free to join him this morning for a walk. I of course agreed, and a car arrived less than an hour later. He didn’t sound angry on the phone, so I must’ve done well enough last night, minus the interaction with Mr. Genrey.

I accompanied Lock around the room late into the evening, meeting people he knew and didn’t. It was exhausting, but despite it all, I had a good time.

When Lock walked me to the doors last night, I waited for a hug, a kiss, something like I assumed we’d end our first date with.

But instead, he simply told me he had a wonderful time and he’d see me soon.

I guess soon meant the next day.

Edwin greets me when I arrive at a side entrance to the palace, but it’s still just as grand as the main. Large double doors swing open as I ascend the stairs. “Miss Penner,” he says, not too kindly.

Ever since I met him at the first charity event when he came in Lock’s stead, he’s made me wary. There’s something shifty in the way he moves. His eyes never stop scanning, and I wonder if that’s due to the nature of his position and the security involved, or if it’s because he’s always looking for kernels of information to store in his back pocket.