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“She is. But I want her here with me.”
“That’s understandable. I’ll see if I can arrange for her to stay here in the servants’ quarters.”
Her face warmed slightly. “I’d appreciate that.”
“I’ll get back to you with the recruiter’s details.”
She nodded then went back to polishing.
As I walked to my car, I decided to call Mirabel. I couldn’t shake off that conversation with my mother and the fact that Mirabel could be sleeping with Orson.
“Oh, Ethan.” She sounded surprised.
“Have I called at a bad time.”
“Um, no.”
“Can I pop in for a cup of tea? I need to ask you something.”
“Okay.” Her voice wavered.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Are you coming now?” she asked.
“I am. Just for a moment. I’ve got a few things on the go. I’m about to invest in a social housing development in London.”
“Oh really.”
“I just procured an old warehouse that will be converted into low-rent studio apartments.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Her bright voice brought a smile to my face.
“See you in a minute. Hope you’re not wearing much.” My dick thickened. It didn’t take a lot to get me hot around Mirabel. Even her breathy voice on the phone set me off.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
I closed the call and jumped into my MG convertible. The day was warm, and I loved driving without a roof.
A few minutes later, I arrived in the village and parked on the main street. Mirabel lived at the back of a shop. And while her flat was detached and private, I still managed to get a few looks as I walked down the laneway.
Everyone knew everything in that village. I waved at an old lady, who looked at me as though I’d fallen out of the sky.
Do I really look that different?I didn’t wear gold. My jeans, despite being ridiculously expensive, looked like they’d been worn during a hundred years of toil. They were pretentious, I knew, but airy and comfortable.
Mirabel answered the door in a long, loose T-shirt and nothing else. Unable to contain myself, I pushed her against the wall and smothered her lips with mine. My tongue entered her deeply like I was claiming her. I ran my hands beneath her T-shirt and slid my fingers over her warm, naked curves. Lust shivered through me, and my cock thickened.
I couldn’t get enough of her. Even her sandalwood scent did things to me. Her silky red hair fell on my face as I ran my fingers over her puckering nipples.
“You feel nice.”
She removed herself from my arms. “I made you a cup of tea.”
That abrupt breakaway was jarring. She was right, though—I’d come to talk not ravish her. But I had to ask, “Too much sex for one day?”
She rolled her luscious lips, shaking her head. “I thought you wanted to talk about something.”
I took a breath. She was right. Was that me trying to fuck my way out of an awkward conversation?
