Page 22 of The Devil's Deceit

“Two lattes. Want his phone number? He’s single.”

Her cheeks bloom with color, and she ducks her chin. “Two lattes, coming up. Go take a seat. I’ll bring them over.”

I gesture to a table, and Grace sits. As I take the seat opposite, she grins. “That was mean.”

“I like teasing people. Besides, heissingle.”

“You know she’s not staring at him because he’s good looking, right?”

I press my palm to my chest. “Oh, no. Is it the bulge... under his jacket?”

For a second, her eyes flare, then she narrows them. “Are you ever serious?”

“When the situation calls for it. But life’s too short, no? We’re a long time dead.”

She pales, breaking eye contact. I curse.

“Fuck, Grace, I’m sorry. That was thoughtless.” I take her hand, and she lets me. “You must miss your mother.”

She bites her lip. “Dreadfully.”

“I lost my mother when I was eight.” It’s public record, but only if she cared to research, and I can’t see why she’d do that.

“You did? God, Christian, that’s awful.”

“Yeah, it was.” Still fucking hurts, too. “Not sure why I told you that. I haven’t mentioned my mother’s death with anyone outside the family in years.” I frown. “Strike that. It’s more like never. I don’t talk about her with the women I date.” Narrowing my eyes, I study her.Reallystudy her. “Why are you different?”

“I hope that question is rhetorical.” She grins. “I’m glad you shared, though. It shows you can empathize with my loss, and that means a lot.”

“Losing anyone is hard. Losing a mother is on an entirely different level.” I lean back as our lattes arrive.When the woman serving moves back behind the counter, I pluck a sugar packet out of the holder, tear it open, and empty it into my drink.

“I wanted to thank you again for the other night. I’m still buzzing over meeting Destiny.”

“She’s good people. Her husband, too. On some level, you’re probably related.”

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

“He’s an earl. The seventeenth Earl of Montford. Maybe you should map your family tree. Might find out you have a claim to his estate.” I chuckle. “Loris would love that.”

“I doubt that,” Grace murmurs, briefly casting her gaze out the window. “It was a wonderful night, though. One I’ll remember for a long time.”

“Despite the arsehole who ruined the end, huh?”

“You didn’t ruin anything. I truly appreciate you taking me.” She tucks her chin into her chest. “I’d like it if…” Groaning, she runs a hand over her face. “I’m so bad at this. Okay, deep breath.” She draws in a lungful of air through her nose and levels me with a stare. “I’d like to see you again. That is, if you’re interested in seeing me.”

“Interested? Is the pope Catholic? I’m interested. In fact, my father is holding a charity ball at Oakleigh a week on Saturday. Would you like to come?”

“I’d love to, except…” She grimaces. “I don’t have anything suitable to wear. The dress I wore last time, it’s…” She looks away. “It’s the only one I own.”

“So?” I wait for her to return her attention to me. When she doesn’t, I lean across the table and gently cup her chin. “I don’t care if you turn up in jeans and a shirt, or a black bin bag. I don’t even care if you arrive naked. In fact, that might be preferable.” I grin, and after a beat, she gives me a close-lipped smile. “Grace, it’s fine. Wear the same dress. No one cares. No one will even notice. All that matters to me is having you there. Bring your friend if that’ll make you more comfortable. I’ll have two invitations sent to your address. The only caveat is that she chooses the timing of her texts more appropriately.”

Grace chuckles. “I’ll pass that along.” She dips into her handbag, retrieving a pen. After grabbing a napkin, she writes on it. “Here’s my address.”

This is the time to tell her I know where she lives, that I know everything there is to know about her. Not that there’s a lot to know. In fact, what I do know would fit on that same napkin. But I’m not yet confident she won’t see that as an intrusion into her private life and run for the hills. I’d much rather she come to me willingly.

I take the napkin from her. She has neat, precise handwriting. I fold it in half and slide it into my inside pocket. “I’ll have my assistant send them today. If they don’t arrive, call me and I’ll make sure you’re on the guest list.”

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to it.”