Long Live Queen Perry_Contemporary Reverse Harem by Serena Akeroyd

Author:Serena Akeroyd [Akeroyd, Serena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“What are you doing?”

Perry froze in her tracks, her hand raised to knock on Drake’s door, when she swung around and glowered at him. “George, are you following me?”

He snorted. “Yes, Perry. I have nothing better to do than track your movements when you have a dozen guards at your back.” He nodded at the three who had traipsed after her down the long, grim corridor that led to Drake’s office in the basement of the palace.

She half-turned and sighed at the sight of the trio. “I suppose,” she grumbled.

“No supposing about it. It’s the truth. Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“I want to speak to Drake.”

“About what?”

“Never you mind.” She squinted at him, then defiantly turned her nose in the air at him and knocked on Drake’s door.

When their head of security yelled, “Come in,” Perry shot him a tight smile.

“I can handle it from here, George.”

She opened the door, but before she could shut it, he barged in after her. He had no intention of stopping her from speaking with the guard, but he wanted to know what she had to say.

She propped her hands on her hips, and the movement reminded him of two things. One, that her hands framed the belly where their child lay. Two, the position of her fingers created a “V” that led to the area he’d devoured last night.

His cock stirred as he thought back to how she’d climaxed under his touch, and he felt his mouth water with the need to taste her. Perry was being weird of late. He wasn’t the only one to notice it. Xavier had too, and if Edward wasn’t being such a prat about working crazy hours, he’d have seen it as well.

“What are you doing in here, George? I don’t need your help to speak with Giles.” She cast a gimlet glance around the office. “Even if the last time I was here, he tried to help your mother and father rob me of future custody rights.”

Though Giles Drake winced, he rocked back in his seat in surprise. For the first time, George really looked at the man and saw what Perry had discerned a week ago. Drake was depressed. His hair, always neat and tidy, was long and strangely fluffy about his ears—almost as though the locks, so accustomed to being shorn, were rebelling. There were fine lines about his eyes, a fatigue that came from within that was very much evident.

Drake’s usual pristine shirt was creased, and the tie was unknotted and tugged down to his chest. His jacket was slung over one of the chairs he had for visitors, not suspended by the door on one of the hangers there for that purpose.

The sight of him had George frowning, but not for long—Perry began prodding him in the chest. “I. Don’t. Need. Your. Help. George,” she repeated, punctuating each word.

“I know you don’t,” he answered mildly. “Doesn’t mean to say I’m not going to give it though, does it?”

Her nostrils flared in exasperation.

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