Grayson's Vow

I scoffed. "Greek god? I have no idea what you're talking about. He's one of the ugliest men I've ever seen. I can barely look at him."

Kimmy grinned. "Liar." Her expression became pensive. "It does worry me, though. It's going to be easier to fall in love if you're already attracted to him. Since the plan is to walk away from him in a couple months, find a way not to let that happen, that's all I'm saying. And don't let him kiss you."

I sighed and leaned my head back on the couch. "Well, actually . . ."

I updated Kimberly on everything that had taken place since our wedding day. She listened, her expression moving between anger, mild horror, surprise, and finally pensiveness. "You did let him kiss you. I'm too late—but I'm not surprised. The way his eyes tracked you today when you came into the room . . . well, now what are you going to do?" His eyes tracked me? He was probably trying to make sure I could walk given how sick I'd been.

I shook my head. "Nothing. He just wants to turn me into a convenient wife and then watch as I walk away. That would never, well . . . you know me, Kimberly. I don't operate that way. It would be an utter disaster. For me."

Kimberly opened her mouth to respond when we heard Grayson yelling from the kitchen. I jumped up and Kimberly followed as I hurried to the other side of the house. Grayson was just exiting the kitchen. Charlotte, who must have returned while I was upstairs showering, was on his heels. "It was meant to be helpful," she called after him. He turned around, the lines of his body tense, his eyes shooting fire at Charlotte.

"I almost molested her. When she was feverish and unconscious," he ground out.

"Oh dear," Charlotte said. She looked up, placing one finger on her chin. "Was it meant to be halved, not doubled?" She took her finger down. "Yes, that must have been the problem."

"What's going on here?" I asked. Kimberly's head moved back and forth between Grayson and Charlotte. Walter quietly arrived and stood standing off to the side.

"She poisoned me," Grayson growled, pointing a finger at Charlotte.

Charlotte laughed merrily. "I didn't poison him. It's a simple herbal concoction my mother taught me, meant to increase male ardor." She winked at me. I felt my face drain of color. Charlotte had given Grayson some sort of herbal mixture to increase ardor before they'd left for the weekend? Why? And . . . oh, God. Had he said he'd almost molested me while I was unconscious? I swallowed heavily.

Walter moved forward. "It's hardly my place, sir, but—"

Grayson glared, pressing his lips together for a moment. "When has that ever stopped you, Walter?"

"True," Walter agreed without remorse before going on. "I've found personally that plenty of water throughout the day helps the, uh . . . effects wear off sooner. However, I do recommend the proper dosage. It's quite . . . helpful."

Grayson let out a pained sound, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm in hell."

Charlotte stepped forward. "Would you like me to prepare you—?"

"No! I'll never let you prepare me anything again. You're fired! I'm surrounded by crazy people." And then he strode off toward the door, slamming it behind him so hard, a vase on the shelf next to us wobbled and almost fell. I gasped, my eyes flying to Charlotte. She grinned at me as if she hadn't just been sacked.

"He fired you?" I breathed.

Charlotte waved her hand in the air as if it was nothing. "Oh, he's fired me twice a month or so since he was sixteen." She turned back toward the kitchen, calling after Kimberly and me. "Come join me for a cup of coffee, girls."

Kimberly, grinning broadly, led the way.

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