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“Another time, baby. The queen and I have a breakfast date.”
“We do?” I eye him warily, but he just grins, unabashed by his nudity, so I wander to the wall of windows to give him and his guests some privacy while they dress.
The sky is dreary, blotted with deepening clouds and slashed with sheets of rain. I wonder if Sebastian is viewing the hopeless sight from his place several floors above me. Are his thoughts plagued with memories of us, his head playing tricks on him as he imagines me strolling along the cliffside? Is he painting the recollection now, his talented, expert hands bringing a fresh masterpiece to life?
A door slams shut behind me, and I’m startled to find the room has been cleared, except for Ford.
“That was quick,” I say, nodding toward the quiet, empty space.
“No one wants to wear out their welcome here.” He zips up the same pair of slacks he wore last night. “They enjoy my parties too much.” As he picks up his shirt from the floor, he winks at me. “How about breakfast? I’ll have someone clean up while we eat.”
“Um…okay.”
“What do you want, Novalee?” The tone of his voice gives me pause. So does the way he’s studying me—as if I’m a puzzle he can’t wait to figure out. He’s asking for my breakfast order, but I sense an undercurrent of assessment that has nothing to do with food.
“Nothing too heavy. I’m still a bit queasy from last night.” I don’t even try to keep the accusation out of my voice.
This is all his fault.
His responding smile tells me he knows it. “Make yourself comfortable in the dining room,” he says before disappearing into what I assume is the library to put in our order.
The kitchen staff work their magic fast, and twenty minutes later, we’re both seated at one end of his oblong wooden table, a spread of fruit salad, pumpkin French toast, and hot coffee in front of us. Ford wastes no time digging in, his appetite for breakfast as hearty as his appetite for sex, it seems.
I pick at the apple salad on my plate, spearing a piece with my fork despite the aroma of cinnamon making my gut roil. Silence stretches between us, and maybe it’s the companionable kind to him, but to me, it’s torture. This whole morning is unsettling—awaking with the worst headache I’ve ever had while my horrific behavior last night plagues my mind.
“So what is it you do?” I ask, needing to fill the space with more than the sound of my heartbeat pulsing too fast in my ears.
He arches a brow. “Do?”
“As in work, hobbies, or passions. Liam is chancellor, Mr. Bordeaux peddles jewelry, Landon’s in politics, Vance is a doctor, Sebastian’s an artist…” I trail off, refusing to continue with Miles and his kinky sex contraptions, or Pax and his obsession with punishment. “What makes you get up in the morning?”
“Nothing, my queen.” Ford smirks at me. “I’m just naturally erect.”
“Is everything a joke to you?”
“Only about ninety-nine percent of the time.”
“And the remaining one percent?”
“Well, there’s eating and sleeping.” As he takes a sip of his coffee, his lips twitch at the corners.
“So no profession? No hobbies? Just endless…fun?”
“For now, yeah. This is the first time my life has felt like my own. Eventually, my family will expect things of me, but until the auction is in my rearview, I’m free, and I’m taking advantage of every second. And I’m doing it on their dime, I might add.”
At least one of us is free. I shovel in a bite of French toast and try to keep my bitterness from showing.
“Get it off your chest,” he says, dumping more sugar into his black coffee. Three teaspoons too many, if you ask me.
“Get what off my chest?” Maybe what I should have asked was where do I start?
“Whatever made those gorgeous brown eyes of yours turn to lifeless mud just now.”
“It should have been Sebastian last night.”
More silence rings between us, loud and burdensome in its existence. Ford isn’t brushing off what I said, or thinking of ways to soothe the unsettling flutter of dread inside me. There’s something real about him as he steeples his hands on the table, a frown furrowing the space between his brows.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, as if he knows how crushing the weight of my actions are on my heart. “I never meant to upset you so much. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve lost my judgement when people take their clothes off. Let me make it up to you.”
