Page 15

FIFTEEN

KENJI

The minute I walked into the kitchen, I was bombarded by the one-two punch of Nan and Cora demanding to know every detail of every moment we were in the public eye.

“I… uh… think so?” I replied, wondering why it was important which reporter asked which question. “She was wearing a fluffy hat over her ears, so I didn’t see what color hair she had. But she was tall.”

“That’s Janice,” Cora said, nodding as she looked down at her phone. “There’s a picture of her in the hat. I recognize it from the Fulham art gallery thing.”

Nan’s eyes pinned me, even though her expression was kind. “Next time, try to remember to marry your knife and fork when you’re finished eating.”

I gave her a slow blink. “I’m… sorry? I don’t…” I glanced at Cora for help.

Cora responded while typing something into her phone. “Put the knife and fork side by side on the plate to indicate you’re finished eating. It’s alright. I already scheduled an etiquette refresher for tomorrow afternoon. Then Henri will be back with the first suit fittings. After that, we’ll have a formal-ish dinner party with just the Winthrops where we can practice the etiquette lesson. Sound good?” She glanced up and looked around for Reg, who was busy chopping something on a cutting board while talking to a younger woman who was also wearing a chef’s coat. “That okay with you, Reg?”

He nodded. “It’s one of the reasons Beth is here this week. Three or five courses?”

“Five.”

One of Nan’s assistants was busy tapping notes into a tablet as she stood next to Nan, asking questions. The housekeeper was fluttering in and out with various cleaning staff. Ed was filling out a sudoku puzzle in the newspaper with a sleek, ebony pen. A cooling cup of tea sat too close to his elbow, so I reached over and nudged it out of the way.

“Thank you, darling,” he murmured without bothering to see who’d done it.

I noticed the meticulous care with which his face had been shaved and his white hair styled. Someone had pointed out Ed’s personal valet at one point as he’d bustled through the kitchen on his way to the laundry, but this was the first time I’d stopped to think about the man. Ed’s clothes were elegant and fine but also current. There was no way the earl shopped for himself, of course, and I’d already learned enough to know Nan didn’t bother with minor details such as fetching clothes from Brooks Brothers or whatever.

Even I no longer did that for the guys in the Brotherhood. I had lower-level assistants who did it for me.

The Davencourt wealth was different than the Brotherhood’s money in some ways, but in others, it was similar. I wondered now if that was—at least in part—because of Landry’s influence on the Brotherhood.

Bash, Silas, Dev, and Zane all gave generously to good causes. Much of their wealth was used anonymously for good, but enough of it was used publicly to keep the judgmental media off their backs. The same seemed to be true here with the Davencourt family.

“Did you leave an appropriate tip?” Nan asked.

It took me a minute for the words to compute. “I… wasn’t the one who paid.” I remembered belatedly something about this from all of their previous instructions, but I hadn’t remembered it in the heat of the moment. “I forgot. Sorry.”

Cora and Nan both groaned. “No,” Cora said. “Remember we talked about this? We said you needed to pay to stave off any rumors about you marrying him for his money.”

“The bill was probably less than fifty bucks,” I said, losing my patience. “Who the hell cares? Landry always pays. He hasn’t let me pay for anything in the ten years I’ve known him. None of the guys do. I work for them!”

A hush came over the kitchen as I realized what I’d said. “I mean, I used to,” I quickly corrected, remembering one of the many lies I was supposed to tell. “So it’s a habit for him to pay. Are we seriously going to pretend there’s no income gap between us? He’s a… a world-famous supermodel. A viscount. I’m an executive assistant. Let’s be real here.”

I’d almost let slip he was a billionaire in his own right, thanks to the software he’d created with the Brotherhood. The idea that he wouldn’t be the one to pick up a simple brunch tab was laughable. A fifty-dollar tab to him was like spending a fraction of a penny. There’d been memes about how little the very wealthy felt day-to-day expenditures like the rest of us did. “Had I made a point of pulling out my card to pay for breakfast, it would have looked like the performative action it was.”

Cora lifted an eyebrow. “Or it might have looked like you share his money now, and it doesn’t matter who pays because it all comes out of the same account.”

I felt off-balance and on edge. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I’m not exactly used to being the one in the spotlight. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

Ed spoke up without lifting his eye from the Sudoku. “Liv once asked for a ginger ale at Buckingham Palace. Drank it right out of the bottle before the server could bring her a glass. I thought my mother was going to faint dead away.” He looked up at me and winked. “No one died. I can promise you that.”

Nan gazed at him fondly. “No one died, but the headlines called her the Duchess of Canada Dry for about a week.”

They chuckled and shared a few more memories before Ed left to take a walk in the park with his valet and a member of the security team.

A little while later, when I’d finally extracted myself from the interrogation, I slunk upstairs. Cora passed me in the hallway when I stopped at the door to my room. “Are Nan and your uncle together?” I asked her.

She glanced around us to make sure we were alone. “It’s sort of an unspoken secret around here. Everyone suspects, but no one talks about it.”

“Why not? It’s sweet.”

She hesitated. “Nan’s worried about Landry’s reaction. She doesn’t want him to find out.”

“He doesn’t know?” I asked in surprise.

She shook her head. “And you can’t tell him. He was very close to his mom, but he’s always been close to Nan, too. It would be weird for him.”

“He’s a grown adult, Cora,” I insisted. “He can handle the truth of someone else’s relationship.”

She tilted her chin up until she was looking down her nose at me. “We’re talking about a man who changed his name and moved half a world away to avoid dealing with his mother’s death. Are you sure?”

I opened my mouth to say I knew the man, I’d known him for years. But then I realized maybe I hadn’t. Maybe the real man was the young, pimply boy out on the cricket field, drenched in rain to prove himself worthy in front of all the other mini-lords. Maybe the real man had hidden his pain and fear under highlighted hair, waxed eyebrows, fake tan, and a flippant persona. Maybe the real man had never felt safe enough in front of his judgmental executive assistant to talk about his real life.

After Cora left me and continued on to her own room, I moved into mine and closed the door. The sun lay warm stripes across the carpet, telling lies about what kind of day it was outside. Judging by the light, it would seem summer was almost here, but I knew better. The truth was if you didn’t throw on plenty of protective layers when you went outside, you’d be vulnerable to a bone-deep chill.

I called my grandmother again to check in, but she didn’t answer. Within moments, she texted me that she was getting her toes done and didn’t want to be rude to her nail tech by talking on the phone.

Baa Baa

Congratulations on your marriage, by the way. That sounds exciting.

I stared at the text bubble before frantically typing.

It’s not real! I would have told you if I was getting married, I promise!

Baa Baa

What do you take me for? A 14-carat sucker?

I closed my eyes and groaned. My grandfather had quoted an old movie from the fifties with that line for years.

I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just… don’t worry. And please don’t talk to any reporters.

Baa Baa

Don’t worry. I only spoke to the one lady from the Enquirer. But she seemed more interested in your chess-playing than your relationship with any British nobles. I told her about the tournament in Harrisburg. She was delighted.

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

Now I know you’re lying. You would have never given up that story, upon pain of death. I made you swear on your air-conditioning unit, remember?

I pictured her there in the Nail ’N More outside of the Vista Bonita Active Seniors Community with her eyes crinkled in laughter as she gazed affectionately at her phone.

I love you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.

Baa Baa

Stop texting like you’re dying, Kenji. You could do worse than an earl’s son (who just so happens to be a fashion model) in your bed.

My cheeks flushed with heat.

He’s not in my bed!

Which was true at that exact moment… but, it turned out, not for long.

A couple of hours later, when I was recentered, manifesting calm confidence, and brushing my hair in preparation for returning downstairs, Cora knocked before rushing in. “Hey, sorry to bother you, but, uh… we have a situation.”

“This entire situation is a situation,” I said, setting the brush down on the dresser and sliding my shoes back on.

“I need you to pack your things?—”

I stopped mid-shoe and nearly lost my balance until she continued.

“—and move your stuff to Landry’s room. Nan overheard a few of the housecleaning staff gossiping about the two of you staying in separate rooms. Nan quickly interjected something about the terrible effects of your ordeal and jet lag on your sleeping patterns and that you were now sleeping in your husband’s room.”

I thought back to last night. While I would have loved to have blamed jet lag and my ordeal for the terrible tossing and turning I’d experienced, I was also aware that having Landry by my side might have made all the difference to a steady night’s sleep. “Have you spoken to Landry about this?”

“I did, just before he announced he was going for a run. He agreed.”

I moved back to the dresser and began to collect the meager belongings I’d accrued in the past two days. “A run? I thought he went out in the car.”

“That was earlier. He went to Downing Street to talk to Teddy. Not sure how it went, but when he came back, he came straight upstairs to get on his running kit. He’ll probably be gone already by the time we get to his rooms, and he’s usually gone for a while on these runs. But you probably already know that.”

I lingered over the pullover Landry had given me on the plane. “You know we aren’t actually…”

She rolled her eyes. “I understand it’s complicated, but I also passed by this room yesterday and heard just enough to know you’ll survive a few nights bunking in with my cousin.”

Heat rushed to my face. Hadn’t Landry clamped a hand over my mouth? Jesus.

She found a cloth laundry bag in the wardrobe and handed it to me for my little collection before she reached for the few items on hangers. “Besides, there’s a settee in his room. Make him sleep on it if you want. He practically bleeds good manners.”

I snorted. “Landry? Good manners? He once ate an entire serving of edamame while flicking the shells out of a limousine window one at a time.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “He’s dined multiple times with the royal family without putting a foot wrong. He met and conversed with the president of Hungary when he was selected to join the man’s tour of Eton. He was present at his father’s Privy Council ceremony, which is an uncommon honor. And he?—”

I cut her off. “You sound like Nan. I get it. He can fake it when he needs to. But the man also once deliberately farted in a business meeting to set up a good-cop, stupid-cop routine with Bash.”

The edge of her mouth curled up. “He did that exact same thing when he was young to get out of going to tea with a friend of his mother’s. Aunt Liv wasn’t having it. She made him give up milk, ice cream, and cheese for an entire week to ‘make sure he wasn’t bothered by dairy.’ I, of course, taunted him with every dairy treat I snuck from the kitchen like the supportive cousin I am.”

We moved together out of the bedroom and down the hall. I didn’t even know where Landry’s room was, so I was reliant on Cora to show me the way.

“Sounds like the two of you were close,” I prompted.

The old wooden floorboards creaked under the carpet runners in the hallway as we moved down the hall and around the corner to another part of the house. “Sort of. Uncle Ed brought us to live here when my dad died. I was fourteen, and Landry was ten, which meant I had no patience for him, and then we went off to different schools. It wasn’t until later that we became closer.”

“Well, I’m glad you have each other,” I said softly.

Cora smiled. “I am, too. Sometimes it’s hard to explain the pressures of a life like this to anyone who doesn’t live it, not to mention the challenges that come from Uncle Ed’s health and my mother’s… other issues.”

“Other issues?” I glanced at her in concern. All I’d heard about Landry’s Aunt Lydia was that she was on vacation in the Maldives but scheduled to return in time for the Hearts of Hawling Dinner.

Cora caught my look and chuckled. “Oh, my mother’s not ill, fortunately. She’s just very, very involved in my life. You’ll understand when you meet her.” She threaded her free arm through mine and pulled me around a corner. “Landry’s room is just—oh!”

The man himself appeared like we’d summoned him somehow, and those gorgeous aquamarine eyes met mine.

For a second, I forgot where we were. Forgot Cora. Forgot the clothes in my arms. Forgot everything but the way my chest ached at the sight of him.

Landry looked exhausted , like a hundred years had passed since we’d walked home from brunch rather than just a few hours. And it hit me like a punch to the ribs that he didn’t just look tired; he looked heartbroken.

“Landry? Are you—?” I began.

Before I could finish the question, he reached out a hand to cup my face. His thumb traced the corner of my mouth, and his own lips tipped up in an impression of a smile.

“You,” he said softly, “are a sight for sore eyes.”

Then, his hand slid behind my head, his fingers threaded into my hair—firm, sure, claiming —and he pulled me into a kiss that made a whimper escape my throat and a flare of heat curl through my gut.

I could still count the number of kisses we’d shared on one hand, but something about this felt different than the others. It was passion and desperation and hunger, a demand, a plea .

I pressed myself into him and pushed up onto my tiptoes, wanting to give him whatever he was searching for?—

But a moment later, he broke away. He stared at me, eyes wide, breathing heavily. Then, he cleared his throat.

“I’ll see you at dinner, sweetheart,” he said, and then he was gone.

I stood breathless and reeling. I’d felt that kiss fucking everywhere … and I had no fucking clue what it meant.

“Landry?” I called, turning. “Are you?—?”

One of the maids stood halfway down the hall, biting her lip and blushing, clearly having witnessed the kiss?—

The world snapped into place.

—having witnessed the kiss because Landry had meant her to witness it. It had all been for show.

Fuck .

“Dear sweet baby Jesus,” Cora breathed. “That was?—”

“Landry’s room, Cora,” I snapped, making a show of hefting my clothes. “Before my arms drop off, please?”

“Yes. Of course. Sorry.” She jumped to attention and led me through the first doorway on the right. “Just here.”

Landry’s “room” turned out to be a suite of rooms, including a large bedroom with a sofa sitting area in front of a fireplace, a dressing room, and a sprawling en suite bathroom. Turkey was asleep in the center of the giant bed. She opened one eye and closed it again.

Cora was obviously familiar with Landry’s rooms because she went straight into the dressing room and began hanging the clothes she’d been carrying while pointing me to an empty stack of drawers. The small space smelled like Landry, and I took a moment to close my eyes and inhale.

Leather. Laundry soap. Masculine cologne. The slightest hint of berry from the sugarless candy he stashed in pockets and promptly forgot about as soon as he tossed his clothes in the hamper.

Stop this madness, Kenji.

“So that was, um…” Cora began, eyes darting toward the hall.

“A thing that will not be discussed,” I concluded crisply.

She sighed and worried her lip. “Do you ever… worry about him?” she asked, drawing my attention back to the moment. “I heard him up in the workout room late last night, and now he’s out running again. Between all the exercise and his calorie restriction…”

I shook my head. If anyone was an expert sleuth in Landry’s health, it was me. “He only calorie restricts when he’s prepping for a job. If he was in the gym, it was most likely for strength training. An outdoor run is for cardio but also his mental health. He’s running because he’s upset.”

When I felt the heat of her gaze on me, I squatted down to straighten my clothes in a drawer before continuing. Turkey wandered in and bumped my leg with her pink nose, rubbing her whiskers across my leg in clear demand for attention. I scratched her head and under her chin. “Landry’s healthy. You know about his participation in the Shape the Runway program. He’s fighting hard for better health standards in fashion modeling and recognizes one of the ways to do that is by modeling the right behavior. He takes his nutrition very seriously. Lamar—that’s his agent—was specifically selected because he’s also a certified nutritionist. I promise, he gets what he needs. He also has a fantastic physician who makes him come in quarterly for blood work.”

Yes, I was babbling, but this happened to be a subject I had a secret PhD in. It was hard not to want to reassure her when my research and observation had been borne out of the same concerns.

The fact that it distracted her from asking about our relationship was just a side benefit.

And one that didn’t last long.

She finished hanging up the clothes and leaned her hips against the island in the middle of the room. “Why aren’t the two of you together? He obviously likes you very much, and the two of you have…” She grinned. “Chemistry.”

“You’re nosy,” I pointed out, closing the drawer and standing up straight after a final pet of Turkey’s head.

“I’m protective. There’s a difference.” She poked a finger in the air. “As you’re well aware.”

I blew out a breath. “I thought he was a playboy who never took anything seriously.”

“Landry?” She let out a peal of shocked laughter. “No!”

“Yes. I admit he’s not nearly as bad as he used to be, but there was a time when he was trashing hotel rooms regularly, getting arrested for disturbing the peace and needing me to bail him out, and sowing enough wild oats to end world hunger. Plus, I’ve always had the sense he was keeping things from me—” I cocked my head. “—which, wouldn’t you know it, turned out to be true. So how was I supposed to trust him in a relationship?”

Cora winced. “I can see what you mean. But now that you know the truth…?” She pinned me with a somewhat familiar intense stare. “You care about him, I know you do. And that chemistry …”

“The chemistry is neither here nor there,” I lied. I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “I do care about him. But Cora, the man lied to me—lied to all of us—about something huge. I know last night you said it wasn’t about him not trusting me, but that’s how it feels. Like I wasn’t important enough for him to let me in on his secret. And maybe that’s partly my fault,” I admitted. “I’m still hurt about it, though. And I’m angry. And he won’t talk to me.”

He just kisses me randomly in hallways and looks like his heart is breaking.

“Kenji—” Cora began.

I held up a hand. “Honestly, even if I could just shrug and roll with it, the two of us wouldn’t work. In case you’ve forgotten, I live in the States. My job is there. My friends. My apartment. My grandmother. My history. And he’s going to be an earl and an MP. He’s running for fucking Parliament , for fuck’s sake.” Air rushed out of my lungs as I deflated. “Sorry for the foul language.”

I didn’t add how upset I’d been to learn of Landry’s decision about Parliament on the fucking internet this morning, along with the rest of the world.

Cora’s lips pinched together and moved from side to side while she processed my response. “He doesn’t actually want to be an MP, Kenji. He’s been avoiding it for years.”

“Yeah? Then why’s he letting them put him up for it?” I leaned back against the door, arms folded over my chest. “Is he doing it for his dad? Is the pressure that strong? I mean… if he’s getting it from the prime minister and his own father…”

Cora’s forehead crinkled in frustration. “Not directly. Uncle Ed encouraged Landry to go to Yale and helped him with the necessary documents to do it under a different name. He wants to see Landry happy.”

“ Could he say no if he wanted to?”

“To being an MP?” She met my eyes and nodded firmly. “Definitely. There’s no legal requirement that he serve. But… growing up a Davencourt means growing up under the weight of history. You’re not just part of a family; you’re part of a proud legacy. Landry feels the pressure of that, even if it wasn’t Ed’s intention to force him into anything.”

Turkey twined herself around my ankles and made a little mrrp sound for attention.

Cora leaned down and gave her a quick pet before straightening back up. “As Uncle Ed’s memory began to decline, Landry took on more responsibility for the earldom behind the scenes, and he was brilliant at it. I think the family, including Landry, assumed it was only a matter of time before he moved back to England and took on the public-facing role as head of the family, including serving in the Lords.” She caught one of Landry’s shirtsleeves in her fingers and twisted it lightly. “Except he kept putting it off year after year, even when it became clear Ed needed to retire. And I realized that, for Landry, it’s never been about deciding to serve in Parliament but about deciding whether he’ll be the first Davencourt in four hundred years not to.”

For the first time since learning Landry was a viscount, I could sense the invisible but undeniable burden of duty that came with his family’s long history. It wasn’t just a title. Not just a collection of estates. It was a part of who he was. Who he’d been raised to be.

And yet selfishly, I cared more about his happiness than any of those things.

“Landry’s spent the past almost fifteen years outside of England, and he hates giving speeches,” I muttered. “I’m sure he could be a good politician because there’s not much the man can’t do, but he’d be miserable.”

“I know!” Cora threw up her hands, frustrated now. “And I thought for sure he was finally going to bring himself to say no. Then the two of you… did whatever you did in your bedroom that sounded like a bit of fun… and he came storming downstairs, declaring his desire to be the next Davencourt MP!”

I winced at the memory of Landry’s pain yesterday. I’d been dismissive and prickly. But surely our personal situation hadn’t been enough to cause him to do something as serious as running for the House of Lords… had it?

Fuck. Everything in me wanted to fix this for Landry, but I didn’t even know what fixing it would look like. I didn’t actually know what he wanted.

“I can try talking to him again,” I offered, not believing for a moment that it would work. The man seemed hell-bent on ignoring me with the exception of his performance in the hall earlier.

“Yeah?” Cora’s smile was wide, all straight teeth and sparkling eyes. “Excellent. But first, you and I are going shopping.”

I bit back a groan. “For what? Please say shoes because that’s the only thing I need more of, and I don’t trust that tailor guy to pick ones that won’t pinch.”

She stepped forward and grabbed my arm to pull me out of the dressing room. Turkey had long returned to the bedroom for another nap, although this time, she was curled up on a window seat in the sun. “We can definitely do that, but we need you to pick out a gift for your beloved, remember? You and I are going to be seen shopping together to reassure everyone that the upstart American has been fully assessed and embraced by the family.”

As we made our way back through the winding corridors, I thought about what I could possibly get for Landry that he didn’t already have. It wasn’t easy to buy gifts for a billionaire. Believe me, I’d had years of learning it the hard way.

But because of my experience, I’d learned a few tricks along the way. “Are there any photo galleries you recommend?”

She put on an exaggerated pout. “Yes, but I was hoping more for lingerie or novelty toys.”

As we made our way into the Range Rover in the underground garage, my cheeks blazed. While there was no chance in hell I’d buy either of those things on a PR outing with Cora Davencourt, her teasing mention of it brought back a certain memory.

Which led to the entire ride to Bond Street being taken up pleasantly with images of Landry modeling items he’d received in a gift basket from Véloce Intimates.

There were perks to sleeping with the most beautiful man in the world. Some nights, those booty calls were impromptu fashion shows of the very best kind.