AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Fast forward five years and three children later, and my father was well at work on his third wife, leaving my mother to ‘raise three children alone, the shame of it,’ as she tells it. And by ‘shame,’ she meant the embarrassment of moving back onto her family’s estate and raising us under their rules. All the while, my father sought to extend his goodwill by sending us a private nanny as well as enough money to support her expenses and that of my siblings at least. We were sent to the finest preparatory schools for training in decorum. My sister and I were exposed to the highest of society from the time we could walk. My brother, on the other hand, preferred to spend his time bending ‘society’ over in the broom cupboard.”
I wait, expecting that usual pinch of irritation that flares whenever I mention Alexander. Maybe the avid look of interest on her face makes me feel like I’m reciting an engrossing novel rather than my own life, but I don’t feel it.
“Your father’s American?” The question comes when nearly a full minute passes, and I don’t say anything. She’s cautious, trying to obey her own rules.
“American enough,” I say. “My siblings chose to keep the hyphenated version of his last name. I dropped the Ashton in favor of my mother’s, if only to keep her from skinning me alive when I took over her family’s business. Atelier Noir was founded by my great-great-grandfather to supply trousers during the mining boom of the early twentieth century.”
“An area not far from lingerie,” she snipes.
“Over the passing decades, we’ve tried our hand at various enterprises. When I took over the company, it was a floundering, dying brand with no hopes of surviving in today’s market.”
“You changed that.”
Damn her. The admiration in her voice sounds so genuine—and my cock hardens at the prospect.
“I did what I needed to do to keep my mother, sister, and even Alexander from having to beg my father for a payout,” I explain. “He would have lorded any assistance over my mother for years. She seems silly and frivolous, but I know she sold her heirloom pearls to give me the starting capital to get a foothold over our previous shareholders.”
“You love her, Gloria.” She makes it sound like a fact she’s only just now discovered. I can’t tell if it surprises her or not.
“That’s a strange observation to make.”
She shakes her head. “I only mean it as… Sometimes you act like she’s such a nuisance. Like you can’t be bothered.”
“She is.” I bend one of my legs, and she leans against the knee without seeming to realize it. Her warmth is a delicate brush of heat that resonates directly through my cock. Still, I manage to keep talking. “And I can’t. Keeping her comfortable comes with its own particular set of rules.”
“Like?”
I frown. There’s no reason to bring up a juvenile spat from years ago. Would she even understand my reasoning? Perhaps I’m curious, and that’s why I finally say, “Like the fact that my nanny’s son, whom my father insisted travel along with her, later claimed to be his bastard.”
She sucks in a breath, her eyes comically wide. “You don’t mean…”
“I think this would be a good place to end our lesson for today, Ms. King.” I pull away and lie back, staring up at the ceiling.
She doesn’t say anything as she copies my splayed position. Though, as I close my eyes, I swear I hear a grunted, “Goodnight, Mr. Bellamy.”
CHAPTER26
evie
Ismell garlic. He’s made breakfast again, and shock snaps me awake. I’m so distracted by the prospect of him toiling over a hot stove that I almost forget the glaring tidbit of information he let slip last night.
Almost.
“It’s about damn time, Ms. King,” a voice sardonically announces the moment I stir, peeling one eye open. The sunlight streaming in through the windows threatens to blind me. My throat is dry. My body is… humming.
To say I slept soundly in his bed for a second night in a row would be an understatement. The first time had been a fluke—and not in a way that made me feel any better. Apart from the bastard lying like a log beside me, I have never experienced a deeper, more fulfilling sleep.
If only my awakening could have been just as tranquil.
He’s standing at the foot of the bed—I see once I gather the strength to glance over my shoulder. There’s another frying pan in his hand, and a plate placed directly onto the mattress beside my outstretched foot. I take advantage of the moment to inspect him from head to toe. Gosh, I don’t know how I missed it before. The slight resemblance rightthere, in how they both hold themselves with the same mixture of cocky swagger and natural grace.
They aren’t literal doppelgangers, but the similarities are striking. They most definitely could be brothers.
Not that Graeme seems willing to admit that out loud.
“I wouldn’t want you to think I was a poor host by not attending to the blood sugar of my guest,” he says, explaining away his impromptu breakfast. The sheer mocking in his tone negates any ounce of concern the gesture might have contained. “Eat.” He jerks his chin at the plate, and I warily skim the offering—toast, eggs, and, of all things, a single banana.
I do my best to tuck the corner of the bedsheet beneath me as I haul myself upright. “What if I said I wasn’t hungry?”
