Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“Ah, let her in. Would you bring us two cups of tea?”
I poked Bruce’s arm. “Do not bring me tea.”
“Yes, yes,” he said, stepping to the side and holding the door open. “I know how you feel about tea, Rose.”
I nodded my head. “The only good tea is lemon iced tea.”
“With vodka in it.” He finished, then sighed again. “I think I have a headache.”
He could join the club.
I had a headache just from being here.
My aristocracy allergy was kicking in, clearly.
“Go on in,” Bruce said. “I’ll be back shortly with your drinks.”
I shuffled past him into the office and glanced around, pausing when I saw Oliver sitting behind his desk, wearing glasses and a light blue shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing his forearms off like a dirty little slut. “Huh.”
Oliver peered over at me. “What?”
Aside from the fact he was irritatingly handsome in glasses… “Nothing,” I replied. “Thank you for making the time to see me.”
“Mm. No need to pretend to be thankful, Miss Matthews. You knew exactly how to get me to make the time.”
I cleared my throat and glanced away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Suit yourself.” He committed the cardinal sin of pulling off his glasses. “Take a seat. I hear I’m apparently in breach of contract and you’re willing to take legal action. I’m surprised you wanted to speak with me directly.”
“All right, first, let’s cut the crap.” I sat down on one of the chairs facing his desk and put my bag on the floor by my feet. “This fake politeness is making me nauseous, so just say what you mean the way you mean it, and this conversation will be far more tolerable for the both of us.”
Oliver’s lips twitched on one side. “How do you know my politeness is false?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“I wouldn’t have asked a question if I didn’t want an answer.”
“Fine.” I rested my elbow on the arm of the chair and set my chin on my fist. “We spent several hours together and the only time you ever said the word ‘please’ was when you were asking me to open my legs wider, so I can see right through this bullshit.”
“Hmm, I suppose you’re right.” He twirled his glasses with the arm, staring at me with an expressionless face. “And even then, you didn’t like it when I said please. You much preferred it when I ordered you around.”
“Well, unfortunately for you, I only do as I’m told in bed, and I don’t see one of those around here.”
“It could be arranged. There’s nothing I can’t do in this house, and I can’t say I’m against the thought of you pleasuring yourself against my tongue again.”
Bastard.
I gathered all my strength and offered him the fakest, sweetest smile I was capable of. “I’d rather shove myself up that chimney over there and start a fire at my feet.”
“Don’t let me stop you.” His lips quirked.
Absolute bastard.
“Now that we’ve dispensed with the bullshit, can we get on with it? I don’t know about you, but I’m a busy woman.”
“Really,” Oliver said flatly. “What could possibly require your attention more than this matter?”
“My one-thirty client,” I replied. “Have you met Vera Radcliffe yet?”
“I have no idea who that is.”
“You will when you meet her, the ornery old bat.” I paused. “I mean, the sweet old dear.”
Oliver coughed into his hand, briefly turning his face away from me.
Was he laughing at me? This wanker.
“Just as you are, I’m also busy. So, now that we’ve ‘dispensed with the bullshit,’ as you so eloquently put it, tell me how you believe I’m breaching the contract so we can attempt to resolve this,” he said.
There was a knock on the door, and Bruce stepped in a moment later with a small tray. He put a cup of coffee on the side table next to me and set a cup of tea down in front of Oliver before disappearing as quickly and quietly as he’d entered.
I waited for a moment after the door closed before saying, “The only way to resolve this if you withdraw your closure notice and keep the allotments open.”
“No can do. The land is too valuable for you all to merely grow a few vegetables on,” Oliver replied, holding his hand out.
Merely grow a few vegetables? Clearly, he didn’t appreciate any food on his plate if he was so dismissive of the growing process.
God, I hated him a little more every time he opened his mouth.
I glanced at his outstretched hand before meeting his steely blue gaze. “What, do you want me to smack your hand with my folder for your ignorant comment? ’Cause that’s what I wanna do.”
“Pass over the documentation you have showing that I’m in breach of contract. I have no time for this weird brand of flirting we’re engaging in.”