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She covered her face, mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll be able to look her in the eye the next time.”
The words had Rathe chuckling. Drawing her hands away, he bent down and took her lips in another kiss. Bloody hell, but he had missed kissing her, more than he wanted to.
“Had she been here for long?”
“Just over an hour.”
After a beat, he asked quietly, “Did you ask her about the contract?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t have a chance to.” Chewing on her lip, she asked uncertainly, “Do you think we should?”
Rathe took his time answering. “Let’s not,” he said finally. Tipping her chin up, he told her grimly, “Whatever they are, it’s not us.” At that moment, Rathe meant every word. But the next day, it was hard to feel the same way, not after seeing the headlines emblazoned on every blasted tabloid in the continent.
Chapter Eight
Twenty-one down. Fiveto go.
Five bloody more retractions to put an end to the scandal that had blown up in his face.
Even though he had been closeted in his London office for over a week now, working his arse off, the sick feeling in his stomach still remained. If only the media had targeted him or his father, he might not have felt this bad or this stupid about the entire debacle.
But no. Instead, the vultures of the press had sunk their inked claws on his mother, the one person who should have been held blameless.
Closing his eyes, Rathe tried to escape from reality but it was impossible, the words spelled in huge block letters on various European tabloids making his stomach churn.
PEDOPHILE VICTIM BREEDING ANOTHER PEDOPHILE: FACT OR MYTH?
KARMA STRIKES: HISTORY REPEATS FOR THE MOST FAMOUS AMERICAN GOLD-DIGGER IN BRITAIN
And the headlines on gossip websites had been a thousand times worse.
DUCHESS ALYSSA WELLESLEY AND THE DICKS OF FLANDERS
He hoped to God his father had found a way to prevent Alyssa from reading such vile nonsense.
Rathe opened his eyes when he heard his phone rang.
