London Dynasty (The Dynasties #1) - Geneva Lee Page 0,21

it to me. “It’s for you. He asked you to read it in private.”

His mother turned a puzzled look in his direction. Then, directed it at me. “How odd.”

“But they knew each other as children?” Iris pointed out.

“Yes, but it’s hardly appropriate given the arrangement for—”

“Mother,” Evie interrupted, “it’s just a note.”

My heart started pounding as I took it and continued to do so during our farewells and all the way home while Iris discussed tomorrow’s event—the night where I would be formally introduced to a man I already felt I knew intimately.

As soon as we reached Willoughby Place, I headed to my rooms to put away my shopping. Stepping inside, I closed the door and unfolded the note.

Next time, dirty girl.

Chapter Eleven

Despite its lush comfort, I didn’t sleep well in Kerrigan’s bed the first night. Instead, I laid in the silky sheets, pillows around my entire body like a fortress, and rehashed the day’s events. Tod had stayed late in the office, working to secure a multi-billion dollar real estate parcel, according to Iris. After barely managing to keep my cool with Caroline Byrd, I was glad to have one less person watching my every move. Iris had continued to be kind and welcoming. The staff had given me a wide berth. But none of those things kept me awake, eyes staring blankly at the vaulted ceiling. No, my insomnia was the direct result of four simple words.

I don’t know how he knew it was me in the loo. Or why he’d felt the need to point it out. It wasn’t exactly the warmest start to our relationship. Still, every time I thought of the way he’d spoken to me while I hid in the stall, I felt a hungry tick between my legs. I’d listened to a man I’d never met, who I’d practically sold my soul to, fuck another woman. My rational half wanted to be angry about it. My emotional half was confused, jealous even. The confusion seemed to stem from the fact that I had no legitimate claim on him. And underneath my reason and my feelings, something else boiled. It was primal. It clawed inside me, wanting to be unleashed, and rattled the cage of my conscious efforts to contain it. The feeling sent my hand dancing between my legs again and again, but no matter how many times I pleasured myself, I wasn’t sated.

I was still lying in bed when the room lightened at dawn, sunlight filtering through the drawn curtains, and I was awake when someone knocked on the door.

“Yes?” I called not bothering to rise from my pillow fort but pulling the covers over me more tightly.

Giles entered, carrying a tray, and brought it to the bedside table. “Having a lie-in?”

“Something like that,” I muttered. Struggling to sit up, I tugged the old t-shirt, one of the few things I’d brought along with me, down, so I was presentable.

“I have your schedule for the day,” he informed me as he made me a cup of tea. He paused when he lifted the lid of the sugar jar. “How do you take this?”

“Two sugars,” I said. “But you really don’t have to do that for me.”

His head cocked. “Interesting, but no, I really do.”

I supposed this was more of the expectations I needed to absorb and adhere to if I was to pass for Kerrigan. “What do you mean by schedule?”

“Your father—pardon me, Mr. Belmond—would like to leave sharply at seven. Your hairdresser and make-up artist are scheduled accordingly, and your facialist will be here in an hour. Iris would like to hang out with you after your facial while you’re getting ready.” He shifted uncomfortably, lifting his glasses from his tipped nose and then cleaning them on a handkerchief. “Her words. Not mine.”

“Of course,” I said, breathing in the floral scent of the black tea.

“You should know that Kerrigan didn’t approve of her father’s romance with Miss Adler.”

I frowned. “So I should ignore her?”

“You’re the one present, Miss…” he trailed off and I realized he wasn’t sure what to call me.

“My name is Kate,” I said softly.

“It would be better not to get in the habit of using it. If I were to slip up and use it in front of the wrong person, the consequences could be messy.” He spoke apologetically, and I appreciated the difficult position he was in.

“What about K?”

“K?” he repeated.

“Just call me K, like a nickname. I’ll tell everyone that I picked it up while I