The Scotch Series: The Complete Series (Scotch #1-3) - Penelope Sky Page 0,112

a seat in one of the white chairs under the umbrella and watched. “I thought Ariel took you out here once before?”

“I didn’t really get a chance to enjoy it.” She grabbed a red rose from one of the bushes then tucked the stem behind her ear. The color contrasted against her fair skin but complimented the purple dress she wore. It was an accessory that fit perfectly. “She was insulting me the entire time.”

“She tends to do that.”

She took the seat across from me as one of the maids came out. She brought coffee and water, alone with a small vase of flowers. She nodded before she walked away, trying to be so quiet that we wouldn’t notice her.

London added some cream to her coffee.

“I thought you liked it black.” It was something I noticed the second she came into my possession. She had been too argumentative to speak to, so I’d had to study her to understand her.

“I already had a cup this morning. The acid hurts my stomach unless I soften it.”

I nodded then poured my own mug.

“I’m surprised you still have a stomach with all that poison you drink.”

I’d classify myself as an alcoholic. I just held my liquor well, so I didn’t have any behavioral issues. London was the only one to mention my love for scotch. Everyone else didn’t notice or didn’t have the audacity to point it out. “Maybe I’m a cow.”

She raised an eyebrow before she drank her coffee. “What?”

“Because they have four stomachs.”

“Ooh…” She finally let out a chuckle. “I wasn’t sure where you were going with that.”

I liked watching her face light up with a smile. When I was the one who made her laugh, it was even better. When she coated her eyelashes in mascara, they were thick and dark and contrasted against her green eyes. In that moment, she was absolutely lovely. I wished I could take a picture of her. If I pulled out my camera, it would probably ruin the moment.

“So seriously, how many glasses of scotch do you drink a day?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never counted.”

“What would you estimate?”

I thought about the average day and how many glasses I had for lunch, while I sat in my office, and at dinnertime. Plus, all the scotch I drank before bed. “I don’t know…six or seven glasses…sometimes nine or ten.”

Her jaw nearly dropped, and her eyes popped open. “Nine or ten…?”

Was that a lot?

“That’s insane. Your liver must be corroded.”

I wouldn’t know. I hadn’t seen a doctor in years. “I feel fine.” I still hit the gym hard every single day and ran my empire without a problem.

“That’s just not good for you, Crewe. It’s fine to drink…but not that much.”

Instead of putting any value into what she said, I concentrated on the unspoken meaning of her words. “You sounds concerned.”

“I am concerned. Alcohol at that level isn’t healthy.”

“I’ve been drinking like that for a long time. Don’t worry about it.”

“How can I not worry about it?” she demanded. “You’re gonna drown yourself.”

My love for scotch began when I was young. When I opened up my own distillery, it became worse. Getting lost in a smooth glass of amber liquid was the best way to chase away my depression. It was the best cure for nightmares.

“How do you even think when you’re drunk all the time?”

“I think better, actually.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to sound bossy, but you really should cut it back. You’ll need a liver transplant before you turn forty.”

“And then I can keep going for another forty years.”

Now she just glared at me.

“If I’m not mistaken, it sounds as if you care about me.”

Her glare faded, but she still wore a serious look. “Because I do care about you, Crewe. But you already knew that.”

My heart rate picked up slightly, and I felt arousal that wasn’t caused by just her outfit. Hearing a confession like that inflated my ego bigger than it already was. She was being held here against her will, but she somehow felt a connection with me.

I was glad the feeling was mutual.

“I want you to cut back.”

If anyone else had made that request of me, I wouldn’t even consider it. But I loved the way her face darkened in concern. I loved knowing she cared about me, that she wanted me to live a long and healthy life. The longer I lived, the longer she was my prisoner. But that didn’t seem to bother her.

“Crewe.”

“How much