"But you're still staring at my legs."
"Sorry." I jerk my attention back to her face. "I didn't mean to do that."
"Let me guess. It was a reflex."
The sarcasm dripping from her voice tells me everything I need to know. I haven't changed, and she will never trust me again—unless I can fix what I've bollocksed up. "I apologize for staring at your knees. From now on, I will behave."
"No, you won't." She slouches in her chair and shuts her eyes briefly. Then she shakes her head. "You really can't help yourself. I need to work around that, and you need to learn how to hide your libidinous tendencies. Polishing up your public image is my responsibility. But reforming a sex addict is beyond the scope of my job."
"Addict? You've got me wrong, darling."
"Every time you call me that, you prove my point."
I'm about to inform her how wrong she is when I realize what's really going on here. She loved that kiss as much as I did, and now she's panicking. Avery had done the same thing yesterday after we kissed. This morning, her panic has manifested as cool detachment.
Maybe I do have libidinous tendencies, but I've never kissed a woman who didn't want me to do that. Avery wanted it. She wanted me.
And now she thinks I'm a sex addict.
I lean back in my chair. "All right. Strictly business."
"Thank you." She pulls a newspaper out of her folder and tosses it onto my desk. "Take a look at that, Lord Sommerleigh. It's time you realized how serious your problem is."
"But I already know that."
"No, you don't." She nods toward the newspaper. "Look at the story at the bottom of the front page."
I unfold the newspaper and skim down to the story at the bottom:Sommerleigh Sweets Poised for a Fall. What in the world? That's rot. "I'm sure this is nothing but idle gossip."
"Oh really. Did you read the full article or just the headline? Because the article explains that your biggest distributor is on the verge of canceling your contract with them."
"This will blow over. These things always do."
Avery taps her fingernails on her portfolio. "You still don't grasp the scope of your problem. The Duke of Wackenbourne wants to destroy you, and he has the connections to do it. That article is the first salvo in a war that will ruin more than your reputation. It will wreck your family too."
"We Parrishes always land on our feet."
"Maybe you don't care about your company, but think about what this will do to your employees. If you lose your biggest distributor, they will lose their jobs."
Cold rushes through me as I realize the truth of what she said. I've considered only how my actions affected me, not what they might do to the people who depend on Sommerleigh Sweets for their livelihoods.
"It's one story," I say. "That doesn't mean—"
She jumps up and slaps her portfolio down on my desk. "Wake up, Lord Sommerleigh. The paper in your hand is the oldest and most respected financial newspaper in the UK, and one of the top five in the world. They don't report gossip."
My throat has grown tight, and swallowing doesn't help. I stare down at the newspaper, my gaze traveling up to the masthead. "This is today's edition?"
"Yes."
I scrub a hand over my mouth. "Blimey. I had no idea."
"Now that you do, maybe you'll follow my orders."
"Yes, of course. Whatever you say, I will do."
"Good." She sets her arse on the desk's edge. "Now that you understand the gravity of your situation, I have a radical suggestion."
"Radical?"