Page 18 of The Heiress Masquerade (Dollar Princess #2)
Harrison didn’t know why seeing Evie talking with his ex-paramour made him so uncomfortable, but it did. Especially as Evie was glaring at him with daggers and he got the sense she’d draw her pistol on him again if he wasn’t careful.
“I said I’d wait for you, and wait for you I always will.” Jane smiled graciously at him as he came to a stop next to them.
“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to take a rain check for lunch.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Some unexpected complications have arisen with the Wilheimer deal.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” Jane assured him. “Of course you must attend to business. A rain check won’t be a problem.”
She was always an astute lady to the goings-on around her, and not for the first time the thought she’d make him an excellent wife flittered through his head. Not only was she poised and elegant but she knew absolutely everyone in Society, and already had experience being a countess. If he were to marry anyone, she was the logical choice given she’d never distract him from his business goals, which was his true love in life. But it wouldn’t be fair to marry her or anyone, given he doubted he’d ever love anyone.
Not that that was her fault; after the agony of losing his parents, he’d decided then and there as a young boy that love was too painful, and he didn’t want to experience it again. And he’d managed to steer clear of it ever since, having respectful yet emotionally distant relationships, which had served him well and would continue to.
“How about dinner, though?” Jane asked. “You do need to eat sometime today.”
He was acutely aware of Evie standing there, listening with a look of haughty distain on her face. “No, I’ll have to pass,” he responded, noting the slight tightening around the corners of Jane’s eyes. “But I’ll catch up with you at the Bentley soiree later in the week, perhaps.”
Jane inclined her head. “Very well. I shall leave you to your work then.”
She extended her hand toward him, and he kissed the back of her glove before she turned on her heel and glided from the room. Harrison glanced at Evie, who seemed particularly unimpressed, and was even, he’d go so far to say, staring at him in loathing.
He felt the urge to explain everything to her, but he wouldn’t, because there was nothing to explain, given he hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, perhaps apart from kissing Evie herself. That was wrong on far too many levels.
“In my office, Miss Jenkins,” he growled. “Mr. Hartley and I wish to discuss what happened in the meeting in more detail with you.”
Having Ben with him would ensure nothing untoward would happen again with Evie. Which, if it did, would be a recipe for disaster. A recipe he couldn’t afford now, no matter how much he might be craving it.
…
After spending the past hour going over exactly what was said, or more specifically what the interpreter didn’t say, Aimee was about ready to scream at the two men still barking out question after question.
Ben wasn’t so bad but having to be in such close proximity to Harrison, especially after realizing what a jackass he was for kissing her while he was involved with another woman, was pure torture. Particularly when she never wanted to speak to him again, after she gave him a piece of her mind about the situation.
Instead, she was biting her tongue and doing her best to answer their question with a measure of professionalism, unwilling to jeopardize her traineeship over a feckless man. If only her body would subscribe to that, though, instead of being hyperaware of his every movement. Especially now she knew exactly how it felt to be pressed against him while he kissed her senseless.
“Are you certain he changed the figure to fifty thousand instead of five hundred thousand?” Harrison asked once again.
“Yes. For the tenth time, I’m positive . But feel free to ask me an eleventh time, just to see if my answer changes.” She pinned him with her eyes. “I dare you.”
He cast her a veiled glance. “Every single detail needs to be analyzed.”
“Which you’ve done,” she replied. “Honestly, I’ve told you everything, in exact detail. I really don’t know what else you want me to say. The interpreter was sabotaging the deal.”
“The question, though, is why?” Harrison asked, his eyes boring into her own.
“Perhaps he was being paid to by someone like Wilheimer thought?” Aimee shrugged. Her father had spoken of such things happening with other deals over the years.
“One of our competitors perhaps?” Ben added.
“Possibly,” Harrison replied.
“I can speak to the agency who hired the interpreter, if you like,” Ben said. “See what I can find out about him.”
“No. I’ll go and speak to them myself,” Harrison replied. “What I want you to do is start an internal investigation.”
“You think someone from here was responsible?” Ben asked, his eyes filled with doubt.
“I think if someone was prepared to pay Wilheimer’s interpreter to sabotage the deal, they’d most likely hedge their bets and pay someone here to do so, too, which may have included tampering with our ledgers.”
“Makes sense.”
“It’s what I’d do.” Harrison shrugged.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Aimee said, again wondering how her father could think a man like Harrison Stone was worthy of his praise and affection, when he so obviously wasn’t. “Dirty tactics seem to be a hallmark of your modus operandi, Mr. Stone.”
“It’s back to Mr. Stone, is it, Miss Jenkins ?”
“It is,” she confirmed. “Especially after having met your friend , Lady Whitley.”
Ben cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should leave the two of you to discuss this in private?”
“No!” Aimee and Harrison said simultaneously.
“We’re done here anyway,” Harrison continued, standing from his chair. “I need to visit that agency before the interpreter has time to hide his tracks and go to ground.”
“You do realize I’m going to have to go with you,” Aimee replied, supremely annoyed at the thought of being alone with him, though at least they’d be out and about, and not left in a private office. Not that she had any intention of ever kissing him again. No, thank you. He could make do kissing Lady Whitley as far as she was concerned.
“Like hell you’re coming with me,” Harrison swore, his eyes boring into her own. “You are to stay here and go about whatever duties Mrs. Holbrook tells you to.”
Aimee stood and placed a hand on her hip. “And what will you do if you need my interpreting services?”
“The agency is an interpreting service,” Harrison growled, walking over to the coat stand and taking his jacket from the hook. “I’m sure they’ll speak English, don’t you?”
“Oh, most certainly. And I’m sure if the German interpreter is there, and he speaks in German, that whoever else is working there will accurately and honestly translate what he’s saying to you in English, won’t they?”
He swore again and dragged a hand through his hair, in what she was beginning to recognize was a mannerism he often employed when frustrated. Which seemed to be a lot in her presence.
“Fine. You can come.” He exhaled harshly, a furious expression spreading over his face as he stared at her. “But I’m walking there, so you better keep up.”