her.
“You haven’t been to see me,” she said straight, and took a sip of her gin. She clearly wanted me to see her as a ball-buster who didn’t give one shit about my permission to be in here. But the slight tremor in her proper voice gave away her nerves.
“Been busy.” I lowered my gin to the table and pulled off my glasses. I cleaned the lenses on my shirt, then slipped them back on my face.
“Busy …” She nodded. “I’m feeling better now, thanks for asking.” She lifted her legs up to the chair, curling her body over as she leaned closer to the fire. The reflection of the orange and red flames danced on her cheeks, putting fire in her eyes as she glared at me. She clutched her gin in her hands, watching me over the crystal glass’s rim.
“What kind of business did you have?” she asked when I said sweet fuck all in response to her snipe.
“Family business,” I replied. She nodded, but I saw the flash of rejection in her expression. She inhaled deeply. Her tits pressed against her t-shirt, and it took everything I had to keep my arse on the seat and not overturn the fucking chessboard between us and fuck her on the floor.
Cheska had no fucking idea what I was imagining, how I wanted her pinned against the books she’d just admired as I slammed into her from behind. She gestured toward the chessboard. “You’re playing by yourself?”
I finished my cig and flicked it into the fire. “You play?” I cursed my fucking tongue for asking her the question. I’d vowed to keep Chelsea Girl at a distance. We’d find the fuckers who’d hunted her, and she’d run back off to her perfect little life, far away from the dark lord that she’d fucked for a while. I knew how this story played out. Posh and peasant didn’t mix.
“God, no.” She laughed. The addictive sound filled the room. There were no windows for that laugh to escape through. And I knew that sound would haunt me every time I stepped into this fucking study from now on. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.” She leaned forward, and the neck of her top showed me her braless tits underneath. The tits that I’d had in my mouth hundreds of times. The nipples that I’d rolled on my tongue and bitten down on to make her scream.
She glanced up at me through her long lashes. She fucking knew what she was doing. But I showed fuck-all reaction. Let her try to pull me in like a bloody siren. I wanted to see how far the posh little princess was willing to go to try and bring me to heel.
She pointed at one of the pieces. “What is this one?”
“A pawn.”
Cheska nodded, taking it in. “A lower-valued piece?”
“A soldier,” I said. “Not as much power as the others, but it’s needed nonetheless.”
“Like your soldiers?” she asked. “For your firm?” Clearly Chelsea Girl had been doing her research. No doubt the information came from Betsy. I knew my cousin had taken a shine to Cheska. And I saw the planning and cunning in Betsy’s eyes whenever she mentioned Cheska to me. I didn’t know what my cousin was up to. But whatever it was wouldn’t fucking work.
“Like my soldiers,” I confirmed.
Cheska nodded, then moved to the rook. She pointed at the castle piece. “Can only move laterally or forwards and backwards,” I explained. She pointed to the horse. I talked her through the pieces until two remained.
“So,” she said, “these must be the king and queen. I don’t know a lot about chess, but I know that much.”
“They’re the king and queen.”
Cheska sat back in her chair and studied the board. “So all of these …” She motioned to the pieces. “The entire point of the game is to protect the king?” I nodded my head. “If the king falls, it’s checkmate?” I nodded again.
“And let me guess,” she said, with a good amount of bite in her voice. “The king has the most power?”
“On the contrary,” I said and finished off my gin. I placed down my glass. “That honour belongs to the queen.”
Cheska’s mouth opened, but no words came out. I picked up the king and studied the ornate ebony piece. The crowned top wearing the cross. “The king is one of the weakest pieces. Needs all the others to protect him, as his skills are limited.” I fixed my gaze on