Malachi smiles, and casually makes his way toward the window. He stands back and lifts the vertical blind just enough so that he can see out onto the driveway. “That may prove somewhat problematic, seeing as she and her party have pulled up outside my brother’s home.”
Cole’s breath is loud as he blows out. “What do you want to know?”
“Just a little about Chelsea, is all.”
“She has a boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Malachi looks at me and then back to the phone screen. “Go on.”
“She and her sister Amber used to own a shop.”
“Used to?”
“It was recently burnt down. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this though when Lucian can fill you in himself.”
Malachi’s brows rise. “Poor girl must be strapped for cash.”
“You could say that. They’re desperate to reopen.”
Malachi’s stare leaves the window and we lock gazes. “And I guess Chelsea would do anything to get her hands on the funds to make that happen.”
“What are you insinuating?” I grit out.
“If this life has taught me anything about the fairer sex it is that girls without title or wealth are gold-diggers. I simply want to know if Chelsea is cut from the same cloth.” Malachi taps his chin several times. “I’d be willing to bet she’d do just about anything for a life-changing sum of money.”
I’m about to say how utterly absurd my brother’s statement is when Cole speaks. “She’d do anything to get the salon back up and running.”
Malachi smiles sardonically. “I rest my case. Thank you, Cole.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Cole says before hanging up.
Malachi tucks his phone away in the breast pocket of his jacket. “There, my point proven. Why don’t you allow me to take you out for the evening and introduce you to the sorts of women youshouldbe spending your time with?”
“I appreciate you coming all this way to check up on me, but I’m afraid you’ve been labouring under a misapprehension. I don’t need dating advice any more than I need a babysitter.”
“That is not my intention. I simply want you to know in advance the kind of women you are getting involved with. What you do with that knowledge is entirely up to you, but I’d like to think you’ll do the right thing.”
Our gazes lock and I stand tall. Stubbornness is an inherent trait that runs through our veins. It’s Malachi who breaks the stare. He runs his fingers over his beard and sighs heavily. “Prove me wrong. Offer her one million pounds to spend the night with you. Ask her and I’ll leave.”
Never have I paid for a woman’s company. The very idea is not only vulgar, it’s beneath me.
“When you go, remember that my door only swings one way,” I say, gritting my teeth as I head out of the office. My steps are heavier than normal as I make my way down the long corridors. I’m far too busy with work to have Malachi breathing over my shoulder.
I’m rich enough to buy whatever I want. I want Chelsea, and I want my brother to leave, and I’m presented with a way to make both of those things happen.
As much as it pains me to admit, deep down I know my brother is right. Everyone has a catch and a hidden agenda. To hell with thinking that one day I could win Chelsea’s heart. Love is a myth, everything in life is a transaction.
Tonight, I will make Chelsea an offer she simply cannot refuse.
I stroll along the corridor toward the front door. Out of all the properties I own, I must admit that my South Devonshire estate is one of my finest. The exterior of the opulent white building makes a statement, with its hand-carved spiralled pillars supporting a large overhanging balcony that offers an uninterrupted view of the ocean. Calacatta marble runs through the rooms of the ground floor, and an array of artwork I have collected over the years hangs from the walls. But as beautiful as the property is, this isn’t a house I personally call home.
I open the front door and make my way out onto the driveway, which is lit up due to the ornate glass lanterns I had Christine light prior to Chelsea’s visit. Attention to detail is everything when the most bewitching woman to have lived is dropping by.
I waste no time opening the door to the Bentley. My gaze bypasses everyone except for Chelsea. Her long blonde hair cascades over a figure-hugging black dress, which stops just above her knees. With our eyes locked, I capture her hand. “My timeless beauty, how are you?”
I don’t miss the curiosity in her stare, nor do I miss the subtle way in which her hand trembles in mine. She takes in a deep gulp of air before breaking eye contact. Her gaze connects with her sister’s before she seeks out reassurance from her boyfriend. This isn’t going to work. Her little entourage serve merely as a distraction.
“McKenzie,” I say to my driver. “See the others to the sitting room.” As the last syllable leaves my lips I tug on Chelsea’s hand and without question she steps from the car. I rest my palm on the small of her back and lead her into the house.