“I’m aware,” I reply in a much snarkier tone. “I’m not interested. You get that, don’t you?”
“So, what’s in it for me?” He sits forward in his chair like a snake about to strike. “What do I get out of this, lovely Holly?”
“You do the math.” Because I don’t want to be so tasteless as to point out the obvious. Griffin is jealous of his brother in every way possible.
His gaze bores into mine, corkscrew sharp. But this isn’t about me. This is him recognising an opportunity. “You need me to do this. To throw my arm around you and call you my girl.” I roll my eyes so hard, I think my eyeballs suffer a touch of whiplash. “Because, for some reason, you don’t want the big bad duke blowing . . . down your door.”
“Something like that.”
“But he’s already been there. Blown down your . . . door.”
“Fishing, much?”
“Not really,” he says flatly. “He told me to stay away from you, so I knew the two of you must’ve been fucking. But now you don’t want to fuck him anymore.”
“Think what you want,” I mutter, exasperated.
“Oh, this is excellent!” He launches himself back in his chair and cups his hands behind his head. “I will absolutely fake date you,” he announces. “I’ll fake date the fuck out of you. But I have a few stipulations of my own.”
“I’m going to regret this,” I mutter. “Go on, spit them out.”
“First, it has to be believable,” he says, sitting up, all business again. “I won’t be made a fool of.”
I don’t think he needs much help in that department.
“So no shirking, right?”
“From what?”
“From my touch.”
“I’m not asking you to feel me up!”
“Hand holding,” he says levelly, “smoothing the hair from your face. The occasional kiss to your cute button nose. That kind of stuff.”
“I do not have a button nose, and I don’t want you kissing it.”
“If you want a fake boyfriend, you will.”
“Look, Alexander isn’t going to buy that we’re suddenly in love.”
“Of course he isn’t, but that’s not going to stop us from being in love, is it? Because love makes you blind to everything but the person in front of you.”
“Oh, for—” As if he knows anything about love.
“It’s all or nothing.”
“Why?” I find myself suddenly asking. “What makes you so happy, so gleeful, for the opportunity to get one up on him?”
“Look around you.” His tone is even as though it means nothing to him.
“But Alexander didn’t allocate you this room. Chrissy did. I guess you must’ve done something to annoy her.”
“Yeah, like being born.”
“I’m sure that’s not it. You must’ve pissed in her cornflakes sometime, and this is her payback.” In fact, I’m almost certain this must be the case because Griffin can be charming, but he can also be abrasive.
So abrasive he’s making me curse, dagnabbit!
“Let’s just say, it’s not often I get to best his grace. That I have a hard time saying no to someone as pretty as you.”
“Okay.” Enough of your bull, I think as I straighten while hoping this isn’t going to blow up in my face. “I guess we should talk about what happens now.”
“I’m not finished with my conditions yet.”
“What? What else do you want?”
“Just to be the one to tell him.”
“Sure,” I answer as though this wouldn’t be a huge weight off my shoulders. I’m not certain I’d be able to go through with it if I had to stand in front of Alexander and tell him I’m dating his half-brother. While Alexander might not have been very complimentary about Griffin in other ways, he hasn’t once belittled their association.
I guess that speaks volumes about the differences between these two men.
“Also, and this is my most important condition. I want you to be open to my attentions.”
“Ho, no,” I say with an unkind laugh. “Didn’t we already go over this? I’m not letting you feel me up.”
He makes a disparaging cluck of his teeth and tongue. “That’s not what I said. I just think you should keep an open mind when we’re spending time together. See me as a fake boyfriend that might turn real.”
“Even though I’ve slept with your brother?” I deadpan.
“I have a pretty open mind, Holly,” he says in a tone that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand like pins. “And I’m thinking maybe you don’t know Alexander as well as you think you do.”
I bite when I know I shouldn’t. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that Alexander has a very open mind, too.”
35
Alexander
“Have you got a minute?”
Griffin pulls my attention from my laptop. Not that I was really engrossed in the contents of the screen. I was thinking about Holland again. Two weeks. Twelve days, in fact. And in the past two days, I’ve been unable to get her on her own. I’d even lowered myself to knocking on her bedroom door last night. She had to be in there, but she ignored me.
Twelve days to find out her plans. To make her see sense. To make her see that there’s never a perfect time or a place for something like this. That sometimes you have to trust in that instinct. In that single blinding flash. I’m sure you can find your soulmate in a single heartbeat. In the throb between a lover’s legs.
Am I truly talking about love?
Folding my laptop closed, I push the thought away for later examination. Some time when Griffin isn’t staring at me like the cat that caught the canary.
Love would be . . . odd. Unexpected. Unlikely?
But it might go some way to explaining this burning sensation in my chest.
One I’ve been suffering with for days.
Or it could be heartburn, I suppose.
“What can I help you with?” I ask, refocussing my attention as I observe my brother saunter across the room, evidently very pleased with himself.
He indicates the seat with a deference I’m not used to from him, but I nod, and he lowers himself into it.
“Everything all right?” Because I know the reason he’s hanging around the castle isn’t truly Holland. I’ve been meaning to put in a call to Van to ask if he knows why Griffin is avoiding London.
“Yes, actually.” He rolls his shoulders like a boxer in the ring. “Things are really very good. Wonderful, in fact.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” While also waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“I wanted to have a word with you,” he murmurs. “About Holland.”
My heart stops.
“Holland?” Shifting in my chair, I run my thumb along the old-fashioned ink blotter, ignoring how the muscles in my back begin to tense and then clench.
“Yes. Actually, she asked me to have a word with you.” Crossing one knee over the other, Griffin opens his hands. It may be a gesture of sincerity and openness, compliance even, but not on Griffin. He’s the type of person who makes me want to check for my watch after shaking his hand. “Look, this is awkward, so I’ll just come out and say it. She wants you to stay away from her.”