Chapter Thirty One: Unexpected Visit

Chapter Thirty One: Unexpected Visit


Daphne's POV

It's time to take action. I take a deep breath to steady myself. I've made it this far, I can’t mess it up. It was probably a dumb idea to talk to Greg the way I did.
He is already jumpy enough with all the new changes.

He might really start to suspect something is going on but I have a way around it. The thing about my husband is that it is so easy to feed into his ego. He might suspect something is wrong but he is so confident in his control over me that he truly believes I would never do anything other than what he wants.

Kicking off my heels and placing my feet on the soft, fluffy rug-the only thing in this office I probably wouldn't change. On second thought, it's the first thing I will change. Heaven knows what they have done on it. I probably shouldn't let my feet touch it.

My brows furrow. I massage my temple to get relief from the raging headache that has suddenly taken residence in my head.

I let out a deep sigh and sink back into my chair. I should probably prepare for a beating when I get home.

But first things first, I need to tie off some loose ends. I press the intercom button. “Sara, could you come up and bring ‘that file’ along with you.”

“Right away.” Comes the clipped response. I smile slightly. She certainly has an attitude but her eccentrism is a small price to pay for her genius. My grandfather really does like to gather odd people.

I lean back into my chair and massage my templesto battle the headache that's already forming.

Things are going surprisingly well, as I expected them to. The only different variable is Ethan's behaviour. I sit up and start fiddling with my pen.

I don't understand why he is acting like this. Heat rises to my cheeks as I remember the tension between us before Greg interrupted us.

What was he thinking? Was it a way for him to rile Greg up or did he do it toess with me?

He always did that when I was little though. He would find ways to mess with me and be so delighted when he got a rise out of me.

But the heat in his eyes was unmistakable. The way his deep voice rumbled low and caused something to flip in my stomach.

But it couldn't have been real. I'm just remembering it wrong but there is a tiny voice in my head that's telling me that I'm not wrong. That those things really did happen.

Am I projecting? What am I saying? There is nothing to project. I'm just confused, is all.

Still, I wonder what would have happened if we weren't interrupted. Would his lips have touched mine? Would has big hands grip my-

Sinking again into the rich leather, I push my chair back and close my eyes, taking in a deep breath as I swivel my chair to face the wall to ceiling windows and take in the sunlight.

I shouldn't be thinking such thoughts. They are totally inappropriate, especially when it's about him. He is practically family.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“Sara, I know you think I'm incompetent but you should at least do me the courtesy of knocking before you enter right?”

There is a dramatic intake of breath. “You wound me? I didn't know we had doors between us now. America has really changed you and not for the better.”

I would recognize that snotty British accent anywhere. I swallow my grin and turn my chair, placing my expression hardened with an eyebrow lifted.

“And what are you doing in my office?”