Her smile was warm, and I found myself liking her in the space. “The art here is amazing.”
“It probably belongs in a museum. You would be a better judge.”
“I feel like I’ve walked into rooms at the Palace of Versailles. That ceiling in the library...”
I nodded. “According to my father, the original architect of this mansion back in 1883 worked on the Rockefeller family estate and was commissioned to restore the Palace of Versailles.”
“I can see it.”
“Our family bought it back in 1913 and renovated the house in the neoclassical style.”
“Big art words for a man who wields a whip.”
I chuckled. “Growing up here, at least when I was at home, it was hard not to appreciate the beauty. Much of my time was spent keeping myself company.”
“Makes sense. This place is opulent,” she said.
“Putting it mildly. We should eat before it gets cold.”
“Looking forward to it.”
She followed me back into the kitchen where I had two places set. I didn’t often cook for people beside myself. Something about doing this for her soothed the protective side of me.
“Man, this is good. Better than takeout,” she said.
“High praise,” I teased.
“It is, coming from a takeout connoisseur like myself.”
“How often did you eat out?”
“Everyday, at least until Bailey moved in. She would cook and I would eat. Though I’d make breakfast every blue moon, plus my awesome grilled cheese sandwiches. You can’t forget about them.”
“I can’t. They were good.”
“See,” she said, lifting her glass of wine. “What I do, I generally do well.” She licked her lips, and I was rock hard. Her eyes held a mischief I couldn’t ignore. “Dessert?”
“Does somebody want to play?” I asked carefully.
“I’m feeling wicked, like maybe I need a spanking.”
“Do you now?”
“And if I did?” she asked.
“I’d tell you to clean up the kitchen and come find me. If you’ve done a good job, I’ll give you what you want.”
“It’s not like there’s much to clean.”
I was the kind of cook who cleaned as I went. It made the job easier in the end.
“Then it won’t take you long,” I said and got to my feet.
I had to resist the urge to kiss that pouty mouth of hers. I also had to temper my expectations. Lizzy was having fun, but she couldn’t know yet if she’d get bored one day and want to stop.
“Where will I find you?” she asked as I walked out of the room.
“That’s half the fun. Finish first, then come looking.”
Grinning, I left her. I had calls and preparations to make. There were no toys in this house that I knew of. I would have to improvise, and I was looking forward to that.NineteenLizzyDishwater hands didn’t bother me. I grinned as I cleaned, which took less than ten minutes. I was drying my hands when I was scared out of my skin.
“Who are you?”
I spun around so fast I almost lost my balance. A woman with dark hair stood several feet away. The resemblance was there, and I knew immediately who she was. The good manners my mother instilled in me had me extending my hand and walking forward.
“I’m Lizzy,” I said, before letting my hand fall to the side. The scathing look I’d gotten was greeting enough.
“Lizzy, huh? Are you one of Royce’s mistresses? You’re a little young, but who knows what that man is into these days.”
“Actually, I’m—” Okay, technically, I was Striker’s wife, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to play that card yet. “I’m here with St—Connor.”
Her brow lifted. Probably because I’d tripped over his real name. “Oh, is he here? I can’t believe he’d let anyone just walk around with all the priceless artwork here.”
Okay. I’d had enough. “We’re married,” I said, feeling catty.
She laughed. Too bad it was clearly aimed at me. “Don’t fool yourself sweetie. If Connor married you, it’s only for the inheritance.”
Inheritance? I wasn’t able to hide my surprise in time.
“Oh, he didn’t tell you? Let me clue you in. Royce’s will requires his heirs to be married. And with death knocking at that man’s door, Connor would have to marry. Kalen did.”
Though I knew exactly who the woman was, I asked, “And who are you? The housekeeper?”
Her jaw dropped. Score one for me. “How dare you! This is my husband’s house. If you’re telling the truth, you’re married to my son.” She said the last as if he was her possession.
I straightened and folded my hands across my chest. “You’re his mother?”
She nodded. Her hair was so stiff a hurricane wouldn’t move it.
“The mother who left him to be molested in boarding school because she couldn’t bother to be a mother? Do you mean that woman?”
She opened and closed her mouth a few times as I waited, my eyebrow lifted.
“You’re an arrogant little slut. I bet you think you’re marrying into money, but Royce is a mean son of a bitch. That trust Connor will inherit is airtight and you won’t see a dime of that money. So take your skinny little ass and gold dig somewhere else.”