A Trap So Tender. Jennifer Lewis
she’d contacted said he’d lost the property through nonpayment but wouldn’t reveal the details. Her dad firmly maintained that James had stolen it. Her relationship with her dad was still in a delicate, early stage and she didn’t want to do anything that might embarrass him and drive him away. “I’ll figure something out. Anyway, I wanted to let you know where I am so you don’t worry.”
“It sounds like I have good reason to worry, Fifi. You watch out for yourself with that ang mo gui.”
“I will.” She wanted to protest that James didn’t have red hair, but of course the term ang mo gui was a generalized slang for Westerners that happened to mean “red-haired devil.” “I can handle myself just fine.” She glanced around the dark bedroom, reluctant to hang up the phone and lose her lifeline back to the real world. It was 3:00 a.m., with hours of darkness between now and morning. And who knew how many auld ghosts hung and hovered in the corners. “When I get back I want to take you to my new favorite restaurant.” Hopefully to give him the good news that she’d regained control of his factory, but no sense getting overconfident.
“I’d love that, Fifi. It’ll be my treat.”
She swallowed. She wasn’t sure he could even buy her dinner at McDonald’s at the moment, but he’d be terribly upset if he knew she knew that. She had to come up with all kinds of creative stratagems to pay for their meals and buy him presents. His pride had no doubt played a part in his fall—a lesson she could learn from. “Great. You’d better not call me here, just in case. I don’t want them to figure out I’m your daughter. I’m keeping everything secret.”
He laughed, obviously delighted by the subterfuge. “My lips are sealed.”
“I’ll call again soon.” She hung up, with a sudden rush of emotion and happiness that she had a second chance to grow close to her father. She wasn’t going to blow it. He’d always wished for a son to carry on his name, but she’d show him that a daughter could be even better.
Her next encounter with James came at the breakfast table. Bored and restless alone in her room, she grew brave and ventured downstairs by herself. She hadn’t fallen back to sleep after her conversation with her father, and now she was starving. Dishes of bacon, a rack of cold toast with butter and marmalade, a vat of jellified oatmeal. All very austere and aristocratic. She wolfed down some toast and bacon, and three cups of brutally strong tea, and was feeling fairly human by the time he strode in.
“Sorry I wasn’t down first. I was more tired than I thought.”
“No worries. I found my way here. I might get used to having breakfast waiting for me every morning.”
“Would you like coffee? We do have some, way up in a cupboard somewhere.”
“I’ll survive on tea. I like to go native when I’m in a new place.”
“Katherine emailed me pictures of the other two parts of the cup. I’ve just sent them to you.”
She pulled out her phone and looked at hard-to-read images of dark metal against a white background. “She’s very excited that I’m finally looking for it. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’m using security guards to prevent people from combing the estate for it and claiming her reward.”
Fiona smiled. “We’d better find it quick before she raises the reward to attract more people.”
“Too true.” James was more annoyingly handsome than ever. He wore loose riding breeches with tall leather boots and a checked shirt, which should have looked silly but made him seem tall and dashing and like the lord and master of all he surveyed. “I’m going riding this morning and I thought you might join me, if you’re interested.” His eyebrow lifted slightly. Was he calling her bluff? Maybe he didn’t believe she could ride.
“I’d love to.” She smiled coolly. “I hope it’s not against the law to ride in jeans and loafers.”
“We have so many old laws here I just assume everything’s forbidden and go ahead with it anyway.” He piled bacon, toast and some bright orange scrambled eggs onto a plate. “Luckily the place is so big and remote there’s no one around to stop me.”
“Good.” Her pulse had quickened. Possibly from the prospect of galloping through the Scottish countryside, but more likely from the early-morning vision of James, with his dark hair wet and slicked back, and droplets of water still clinging to his neck and dampening the collar of his shirt. “Do you miss riding when you’re in Singapore?” She still found it odd that he chose to spend most of his time there when he had his own grand empire here in Scotland.
“Not at all. I play polo at least twice a week.” He drank some tea.
“Oh.” Of course. No wonder he looked so fit and muscular.
“Do you play?”
“No. I’ve never tried it. I’d love to, though.”
He raised a brow. “Really? We’ll have to look into that when we’re back in Singapore.”
Her heart beat faster. Damn, she wished she could take him up on his offer. She’d always wanted to play polo but never had the chance. Going for trail rides and the occasional jumping competition was a pretty exclusive experience back in Cali, and she’d felt privileged to do that. But of course by the time they were back in Singapore, James would likely know who she really was and probably hate her guts, so she wouldn’t be invited to his polo club.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.