women.
Watching as she stuffed another shirt into the bag, he wondered why she only had one bag. By the way everyone had acted earlier, she must've been with his grandfather for quite some time.
Had she already picked everything up earlier?
She had said that she hadn't been back to the house, but it could've been a lie.
She could've come anytime. She had a key. In fact, she could've stolen something from the house and he would never even know.
He frowned when he saw the white shirt she took out. It was just a simple cotton shirt. Definitely not the silk negligee he would've dressed her in if she was his. In fact, none of the clothes she was taking out were of the lingerie sort.
He could easily imagine her in a flimsy red lace, her alabaster skin contrasting deliciously against the red fabric as he peeled them off...
Shaking his head, he cursed himself. It wouldn't do to keep fantasizing about her when all he wanted to do was wash his hands free of his grandfather.
He still didn’t know why the man had decided to leave him everything. Had the man wanted to create some kind of connection to him because he was rich?
Over the past few years, Laden had gotten used to people coming out of the woodworks after reading about him in an article or seeing him on the telly. Perhaps his grandfather had been trying to do the same.
As if sensing him, Rebecca turned towards him. “Oh. I didn't see you.” She zipped up her bag.
“Are you mad that he didn't give you the house?”
He was caught off guard when she blushed. Did people still blush?
Though he shouldn't have, he couldn't help but think how becoming it was on her and where else she could blush.
“He's given me so much already,” she said simply, snapping him out of his reverie and he frowned. Exactly how much money had his grandfather given her to make her not care about the house?
She got some papers from her purse and handed them to him. They were the will documents.
“Just send me them to me when you can.”
Since he didn't want anything to do with his grandfather or his estate, he considered giving it all to her before he thought about his father and aunt. Though he doubted that they would want it either, it was probably best to ask.
On her way out of the door, Rebecca stopped in front of him. She smelled like fresh strawberries and he fought the urge to grab her and to see if she tasted as good as she smelled.
“I know you two weren't close,” she murmured softly as she raised those beautiful brown eyes to his. “But he always kept track of you.”
She hesitated before continuing. “There's a binder in his office with a bunch of newspaper clippings of you over the years. He was just so proud of you.”
She smiled softly and walked out of the room. He’d been so busy watching the way those lips moved, imagining how she tasted, that it took him a few seconds to register what she had said.
He didn't know how to feel about the fact that the grandfather he’d never known had been keeping tabs on him, but what he did know was that he wasn’t about to let this beauty get away so quickly.
“So where are you going to live now?” he asked as he followed her down the old hall, taking just a few strides to catch up with her.
She stopped and turned. “To my flat.”
He frowned. His grandfather had let his mistress live in a different place altogether? Or was this just one of his mistresses?
Anger coursed through him at the thought of his grandfather going to someone else's bed after this beauty’s before he stopped himself. It was none of his business. He knew nothing about their relationship and should just let it go. It wasn't as if she was in it for the love. Perhaps she had other men as well.
“I thought you lived here.”
“Oh no. I was just here during the last two months.”
“And you're just going to go back to work now?”
Maybe she’d never intended to be a solicitor after all and had just wanted to become a trophy wife. Would she
Watching as she stuffed another shirt into the bag, he wondered why she only had one bag. By the way everyone had acted earlier, she must've been with his grandfather for quite some time.
Had she already picked everything up earlier?
She had said that she hadn't been back to the house, but it could've been a lie.
She could've come anytime. She had a key. In fact, she could've stolen something from the house and he would never even know.
He frowned when he saw the white shirt she took out. It was just a simple cotton shirt. Definitely not the silk negligee he would've dressed her in if she was his. In fact, none of the clothes she was taking out were of the lingerie sort.
He could easily imagine her in a flimsy red lace, her alabaster skin contrasting deliciously against the red fabric as he peeled them off...
Shaking his head, he cursed himself. It wouldn't do to keep fantasizing about her when all he wanted to do was wash his hands free of his grandfather.
He still didn’t know why the man had decided to leave him everything. Had the man wanted to create some kind of connection to him because he was rich?
Over the past few years, Laden had gotten used to people coming out of the woodworks after reading about him in an article or seeing him on the telly. Perhaps his grandfather had been trying to do the same.
As if sensing him, Rebecca turned towards him. “Oh. I didn't see you.” She zipped up her bag.
“Are you mad that he didn't give you the house?”
He was caught off guard when she blushed. Did people still blush?
Though he shouldn't have, he couldn't help but think how becoming it was on her and where else she could blush.
“He's given me so much already,” she said simply, snapping him out of his reverie and he frowned. Exactly how much money had his grandfather given her to make her not care about the house?
She got some papers from her purse and handed them to him. They were the will documents.
“Just send me them to me when you can.”
Since he didn't want anything to do with his grandfather or his estate, he considered giving it all to her before he thought about his father and aunt. Though he doubted that they would want it either, it was probably best to ask.
On her way out of the door, Rebecca stopped in front of him. She smelled like fresh strawberries and he fought the urge to grab her and to see if she tasted as good as she smelled.
“I know you two weren't close,” she murmured softly as she raised those beautiful brown eyes to his. “But he always kept track of you.”
She hesitated before continuing. “There's a binder in his office with a bunch of newspaper clippings of you over the years. He was just so proud of you.”
She smiled softly and walked out of the room. He’d been so busy watching the way those lips moved, imagining how she tasted, that it took him a few seconds to register what she had said.
He didn't know how to feel about the fact that the grandfather he’d never known had been keeping tabs on him, but what he did know was that he wasn’t about to let this beauty get away so quickly.
“So where are you going to live now?” he asked as he followed her down the old hall, taking just a few strides to catch up with her.
She stopped and turned. “To my flat.”
He frowned. His grandfather had let his mistress live in a different place altogether? Or was this just one of his mistresses?
Anger coursed through him at the thought of his grandfather going to someone else's bed after this beauty’s before he stopped himself. It was none of his business. He knew nothing about their relationship and should just let it go. It wasn't as if she was in it for the love. Perhaps she had other men as well.
“I thought you lived here.”
“Oh no. I was just here during the last two months.”
“And you're just going to go back to work now?”
Maybe she’d never intended to be a solicitor after all and had just wanted to become a trophy wife. Would she
Similar Books
