Slay One_Rivalry by Laurelin Paige

Author:Laurelin Paige [Paige, Laurelin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Paige Press LLC
Published: 2019-06-04T04:00:00+00:00

Twenty

There was an uproar of questions from his kids that Edward easily put to silence. “We’ll discuss everything over dinner,” he said firmly. “It’s seven now. I’m sure Gavin is waiting for us to be seated.”

With his palm pressed at the small of my back, Edward led us down the hallway toward the formal dining room pointing out the floor plan as we walked. “The staircase, of course. There’s the lift. Both go to the lower ground floor as well as all the way to the top. Behind the stairs is the water closet. To the left is the kitchen—the one we use on a daily basis. The catering kitchen is downstairs. Farther down the hall is the salon. And here we are.”

He dropped his hand, but I could still feel it there, as though he’d branded it into my skin. It made me dizzy, even when he was no longer touching me. That was how powerful his affect was on me. It lingered. It permeated the membranes of my cells. Got into my bloodstream. Altered my DNA.

I surveyed the room we’d entered. The traditional design had been continued in here in the two crystal chandeliers that hung from the patterned tray ceiling and the elegant dark wood table with intricate apron details and lion claw feet. There was room for twelve fabric padded chairs with cabriole legs, five on each side and one at each head, but only four place settings had been laid out.

Edward moved to the setting at the far head. “You’ll sit here to my left, darling. Genny, you can sit by your brother this evening.”

My knees buckled at the term of endearment, even though I knew it was likely for show. I was grateful it was only a few steps to my seat. The butler who’d greeted me when I arrived pulled out my chair for me to sit. I assumed he was Gavin, but later was informed his name was Jeremy. Gavin was the personal chef. I’d planned for an intimate dinner, but the level of staff on hand made me feel a little underdressed.

Edward, though, had worn casual, I reminded myself. He apparently liked a formal routine with or without the formal attire.

The next several minutes were spent settling in. Jeremy filled our wine glasses then set out our first course, a blueberry poached pear salad with candied walnuts. He’d barely had time to walk away after setting down the last plate before the inquisition resumed.

“If you’re getting married, where’s the ring?” Genevieve’s sour expression, along with her tone, said she wasn’t ready to accept the news of our engagement.

Without being told so, I had a feeling I was expected to help change her mind.

Here goes nothing.

I put on a friendly smile, one I’d carefully practiced for just such occasions. “We haven’t picked one out yet.”

“I have it,” Edward said in contradiction. “I wanted Celia to be sure about us before she put it on.” He gazed in my direction as he took my hand in his, the one with the missing ring, and squeezed.

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