‘As long as we’re clear,’ he said coldly.
Carly tilted her chin up. ‘I am. I hope you are too.’
His jaw clenched. ‘As crystal,’ he snarled, before stalking from the room.
Carly held herself perfectly still until he’d slammed the door behind him. Then she sank onto the bed, buried her head in her hands, and wondered if she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of them all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘YOU’RE AWFULLY QUIET TONIGHT, Dare. The exhibition not to your liking?’
Dare glanced at the blonde by his side, who was now studying him and not the artwork in front of her. Lucy was a woman he had met a few years ago in New York and they sometimes caught up when they found themselves in the same city, like now.
Apparently she’d come to London to visit a client and since he was still here he’d said yes to her invitation and here he was in a warehouse-sized loft in Whitechapel where Jack the Ripper had carried out his horrifying work.
By the look of the life-size canvases splattered with paint and what looked like debris from the city’s gutters, the artist prancing around the room was channelling Jacky boy’s macabre energy. Dare wasn’t sure he’d seen art that was so gratuitously self-absorbed.
On top of that the beer was flat and the wine tasted terrible.
‘The exhibition’s fine.’ And why spend time explaining his view when Lucy would likely only agree anyway?
Normally at this point he would suggest they call his driver and head back to her hotel. Normally he would already be anticipating the night ahead.
‘Well, something is bothering you,’ she murmured.
‘Nothing of any importance.’
‘Anything I can help you with?’
God, he hoped so. It was the other reason he’d said yes when she’d called. He’d hoped very much that she could alleviate the funk he’d been in since he’d driven away from Rothmeyer House in a cloud of dust a week ago.
Nothing seemed to have been the same since then. By rights he should already be back in the States but his meetings were taking longer than they should and his mother was still at Rothmeyer House.
She’d sounded so happy to be extending her stay and spending time with her father and he was, surprisingly, genuinely happy for her. So happy he had agreed to help Benson find out who was behind the leaking of secrets at BG Textiles.
‘What do you think of the artist’s use of red in this one?’ Lucy asked, hooking her arm through his.
Dare glanced at the enormous canvas in front of him. It looked as if the artist had met a shrewish redhead and decided to decapitate her.
His smile was all teeth. ‘I like it. It has a certain...something, don’t you think?’
‘Hmm, I suppose you could be right,’ Lucy purred, tilting her head so her hair fell just so across her shoulders.
Carly Evans could learn a thing or two from Lucy about how to attract a man’s attention, he thought sourly. Then he scowled. He was tired of thinking about Carly Evans at the most inopportune times. He’d already decided to walk away from her so why bother?
Unfortunately she had burrowed inside his head like a debilitating tick...and his grandfather had been right: they ate away at you with sharp little teeth.
Perhaps she was on his mind so much because he intended to call Benson the following morning and report his findings about BG Textiles.
His grim findings.
It was a conversation Dare wasn’t looking forward to. How did you tell an old man who was likely dying that his only other grandchild was selling secrets to a company competitor to fund a crappy investment decision he’d made months ago and couldn’t repay? From what Dare had found out about Beckett, his fool cousin probably wasn’t even aware of how seriously he was putting the company at risk.
And if the information wasn’t what Benson was expecting the old man might keel over on the spot and then Dare would have another thing on his conscience. Should he drive down instead? Tell him in person? If he did that he’d likely run into Carly Evans and he could only imagine the type of greeting she’d give him.
But if something did happen to his grandfather after he heard the news the good doctor would surely blame him for it, regardless.