Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“Talia,” he rumbles, getting his voice all over my name again like a stain. “Is something bothering you?”
“Mmm,” I demur, stalling for a second with another sip of my water. “It really was just a little dizzy spell. It always passes quickly. I’m fine.”
“Are you?” Steepling his fingers, Xavier props his elbows on the table and leans closer. The sunlight shines off his blond hair until he looks like Lucifer’s son, striking and intimidating and damned. “You’re certain that’s all that’s making you uncomfortable? Surely, you aren’t intimidated by the Arrendell name. I promise you we’re fool’s gold. Worthless glitz and glamor.”
I blink in surprise.
“I, no, not at all. Mr. Arrendell, forgive me, but do you hate your family?”
“Not hate, no.” He smiles humorlessly. “At least, not my family itself. Our name, our legacy… I can’t say I’m fond of those.”
“Is that what you’re trying to erase with this renovation?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “What the hell makes you think I’m trying to erase anything?”
Oh, crap.
Me and my big mouth, just tripping off my tongue.
Swallowing thickly, I look around, taking in the looming house, the trees, the hedges.
“Well, it’s not hard to tell this house is a legacy. Many generations layered on top of each other. Everyone keeps adding to it, and while it all sort of fits, it doesn’t fit together well. And it feels like instead of trying to make it fit, you just want to erase it all and start over from scratch. Wipe all the history and the personal touches that went into it.”
Xavier remains silent.
His jade-green eyes are arctic, unchanging, and he looks at me for so long I start to squirm, looking away, biting my lip and lowering my eyes to my plate.
Just to give my restless hands something to do, I pluck at my scarf, picking at the knot and unwinding it from around my neck, then fretting it between my hands in my lap.
“…I’m sorry,” I murmur into the silence. “That was presumptuous of me.”
“No,” he says softly. “That was dead accurate. Are you really paying that much attention to me, Talia?”
Panic knifes through me.
Does he realize I’m watching him, listening to every word, hoping for something Micah can use against him? Does he know I’m playing him—or trying to, at least?
When I peek up at him again, he’s not looking me in the eye.
His gaze rolls over my shoulders, dipping down, and I know before he even says another word that I won’t be eating anything. Not when pure revulsion fills up my stomach.
“Do you want to know more about me?” Xavier smiles slowly.
There’s an unclean edge to those words.
An unwanted suggestion.
That’s when I know I shouldn’t stay here another minute.
“I wouldn’t dream of violating your privacy, sir.” I stand hastily, snatching up my folio and bag. “Gosh, I’m sorry! I just remembered I have another consultation in the next hour and you said you’re pressed for time. So, how about I email you the quotes and potential sp-specifications once I’ve done a full workup? Thank you for your t-time, Mr. Arrendell. Honestly.”
He only watches me with that predatory gaze as I turn and scurry toward the closest path. I don’t even know if it leads out of this labyrinthine hellscape.
I don’t care. I just want to be away from Xavier Arrendell.
When he speaks again, I almost flinch—but he’s not speaking to me.
“Joseph!” he commands, imperious and sharp enough to cut, followed by a clap of his hands. “Show Miss Grey to the exit, please.”
The man who’d served us materializes from the hedges nearly right in front of me.
I jump back with a small squeak.
He gives me an understanding, patient look.
“This way, Miss Grey.”
“Thank you.” I take a shaky breath, my heart fluttering like a captured sparrow, and nod.
I feel safer with the servant—Joseph—than I did with Xavier, and safer still when Joseph escorts me through the hedges out of Xavier’s sight. We’re almost back to the house before he speaks.
“Are you all right, Miss Grey?” he asks in a low voice, and with a certain knowing that tells me he’s asked many women the same question in this house.
I smile gratefully.
“Better now,” I say. “Sorry. I had a little panic attack thinking I’d be late for my appointment, but I’m fine now.”
I can’t bring myself to tell the truth. Not even to a man who seems sympathetic and who’s probably dealt with much worse than Xavier being a little smarmy.
And he seems to know it, too, giving me a long look before he nods and pulls the back door open for me. “Follow me, please.”
The massive gargoyle of a house feels less oppressive without Xavier hovering over me with every move. There are things I want to ask this Joseph guy, things that make me nervous and afraid.
You know how it goes—servants see everything. And if there’s anything that Micah really wants to know, I’ll bet the people who work here are the ones who could tell him. Didn’t some ex-butler blow open the whole case with Aleksander and the Faircrosses? And wasn’t there a dead maid involved? I think I remember reading that.