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Avery rests her feet on the coffee table. "Are you ready to tell me everything about yourself? Can't help until you do."
"Why don't we have tea first? With biscuits, of course. That means cookies."
"I know. I might be American, but I'm not ignorant of everything British."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to insult you." I squirm in my chair, which is a ridiculous thing for a grown man to do. Avery makes me uncomfortable. "I assume that's a no to tea and biscuits."
"Actually, I'd love that. But we can talk about you while we wait for the tea."
"But I need to go into the kitchen to make it."
She hooks a thumb over her shoulder. "The kitchen is right there. I can sit at the bar while you make tea."
"I prefer to do that alone."
Avery hops to her feet and grabs my hand, tugging as if she wants me to get up. "Come on. It's more fun to do things like this with company."
This woman is relentless. Suddenly, I wish I'd chosen a flat with a separate kitchen rather than an open design. But I give in and push myself up and out of the chair. Avery sashays to the bar and rests her sexy arse on a stool while I walk around the other side to the kitchen counter. My nanny watches while I bring a teapot out of the cabinet.
"Why don't you heat the water in the microwave?" she asks. "It's faster."
"Microwave? Good lord, no. Mum must not have made tea for you when she was explaining what a disaster I am." I fill the teapot with water while I inform Avery, "Lady Sommerleigh would never have hired you if she knew what an American heathen you are."
She raises her hands. "Okay, I surrender. Do it the hard way. Tastes the same no matter how you heat up the water."
"It tastes the same?" I cluck my tongue, shaking my head at her. "You won't say that once you've hadmytea."
"Uh-huh. I'm sure it'll rock my world."
Avery watches me for a bit longer while I wait for the water to boil, but she rests her elbow on the bar and cradles her chin in her upraised hand. Then she begins to drum her fingers on her cheek. After a few minutes of that, she excuses herself to "use the little girl's room." When I tell her the bathroom is inside the bedroom, she smirks. Should I worry about what that expression means?
By the time she returns, the tea has finished steeping.
"You were in the loo for a bloody long time," I say as I set two cups on the bar. "Having a problem, love?"
"No, I'm fine. But I took the opportunity to snoop in your bathroom."
"Is spying a standard part of your image repair arsenal?"
"Yes, but only when stubborn men refuse to talk to me."
"Hmm, I think I should be offended or perhaps enraged by that statement." I set the teapot on the bar. "Would you care for milk or sugar?"
"Both, please."
I pour a bit of milk into each cup, then add the tea. Avery doesn't complain about that. When I set a bowl of sugar on the bar, she snatches up the spoon I'd given her and proceeds to dump heaping spoonfuls of sugar into her cup. One. Two. Three. Four.
"That's enough," I say as I slap my palm over her cup to stop her from dumping any more sugar in there. "You'll never taste the tea if you keep doing that."
"Sugar is my weakness. And I haven't complained about the way you put milk in my cup first."
I lean across the bar and clasp her hands. "You are a heathen for sure, darling. But I love that about you."
"Wait until you see how I drink tea." She glances around the kitchen. "Got any straws?"
I cover my face with my hands and groan.
Chapter Four
