Compromising Kessen (4 page)

Vaguely she remembered telling the flight attendant to have those waiting for her when she woke up. A migraine was starting just as the flight took off. Kessen knew she needed medicine before and after the flight to make sure she didn’t throw up from the pain.

She buckled her seatbelt and waited for landing. By her calculations she should be in London in about twenty minutes. She took a few moments to fix her hair and went into the tiny bathroom to change into her jeans and a Yankees t-shirt. Looking in the mirror, Kessen had to laugh. All she needed was an “I heart New York” hat and fanny pack, and she would be set. Fitting the part of the most annoying American tourist ever to set foot in London actually cheered her up quite a bit.

Before returning to her seat, she threw on her leather bomber jacket and put on some lip gloss. They landed soon after, and within minutes she had her carry-on luggage and was cursing herself for not packing lighter.

Someone called her name in what could only be described as an annoyingly thick British accent, causing Kessen to wince. This was her reality for the next few months. It was enough to send her straight back to the plane to demand a refund.

Amazingly, the massive throng parted just in time for her to see a nicely dressed man about her age, carrying a large sign which had her name spelled incorrectly. Rather than Kessen it said Kissin.

She groaned and rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses before coming to an abrupt stop right in front of him.

“Are you Kessen?” he asked, his accent still thick, but a little softer on the ears than it had previously been. Perhaps her sleepy ears had been playing tricks on her.

“That would be me.”

“Good—ness ,” he said out loud. “Sorry, I meant to say that in my head; it came out wrong.”

Kessen laughed groggily and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you—?”

“Duncan,” he said, shaking her hand. “Duncan Dickerson.”

“Aw, really?” she teased, squinting her nose.

“Unfortunately, yes.” He shook his head and led her out to the baggage claim. “How many bags do you have?”

“Do you want me to lie or tell the truth?”

“Lie,” he answered quickly.

“One.”

He laughed heartily, and then turned to look at her again, this time quizzically. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you are not at all what I expected.”

Kessen could only imagine what he expected; probably something akin to a Paris Hilton poster child primed for reality TV on HBO. Looking at Duncan, she realized it wasn’t just her who had misconceptions. Actually, he wasn’t what she expected either.

“Do you want to further explain, or should I go with the assumptions I already have?”

Duncan smiled again, and this time it lit up his whole face. He was quite attractive, a tad short and not as stocky as she liked her men, but attractive. In fact, he reminded her a little bit of Nick, which caused a tug on her heart. She missed him dreadfully.

“Let’s go with what’s in your head.”

“Crazy spoiled American who used Daddy’s connections to get into Harvard. Sound pretty close?”

“Deathly.”

“Perfect,” she said turning back towards the carousel. There was an uncomfortable pause before she turned to face him again. She thought he would be staring; instead—wonder of all wonders—he was texting.

“Updating your status online?” she asked knowingly.

“How did you guess?”

She smiled tightly, and then answered, “Technology and men—it’s like crack.”

He seemed to enjoy that answer and beamed even more. His smile could light up a black hole.

Chapter Four

By the time they reached the waiting car, she had successfully learned all of Duncan’s favorite places to go in London. Naturally, he had assumed she wanted to know all the shopping destinations, but she was actually more interested in the architecture. Go figure. Men usually took one look at her and deemed her stupid, cursed with a life fit for the runway and credit cards with no limit. This was obviously how Duncan had viewed her; except he now knew she had a personality, which she should be grateful for.

“Where are we going first?” she asked once she was seated comfortably beside him.

He seemed to be hiding something because his eyes were positively twinkling. “Um, I have a meeting with Newberry and Co. managers. Do you mind stopping by with me? We could get you some tea or something while you wait. It will only be a few minutes.”

She wasn’t given a choice in the matter, mainly because he was driving and didn’t look like a person who was easily bossed around. “Sure, that’s great,” she heard herself saying. “Stupid tea,” she muttered under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said breathlessly, fitting the part of stupid blonde with no goals in life.

He chuckled to himself all the way to the store, which wasn’t all that far away. They were inside within minutes. Duncan dragged her to the counter for her order, while simultaneously introducing her as the daughter of Lord Newberry.

His announcement was followed by dead silence, including from the customers. Upon looking around, she also noticed a painfully large number of them had their mouths gaping open.

“This is fun,” she said sarcastically to Duncan. He laughed and hit her on the back like they were old friends.

Duncan didn’t seem to care if she was uncomfortable. Instead he cleared his throat. “Christian wouldn’t happen to be, um, working today, would he?”

The girl at the till gave him an odd look, then shrugged her shoulders and called for Christian. A tall man dressed in designer jeans and a black blazer approached. Kessen nearly choked on her gum when she looked into his icy blue eyes.

His penetrating gaze took her in, appearing to assess her in an instant, in all her American glory. His demeanor immediately changed, and he appeared as though he wanted to kill her, and she had no idea why. After all, she was a paying customer, wasn’t she?

She looked for Duncan, but he had walked away. Where was the little traitor?

“May I help you?” the man named Christian asked. He had unruly chestnut hair, which went past his ears in an unprofessional way. He more than likely needed the job to stay in the boy band that wasn’t taking off like he had hoped. She smiled at her private joke, and then winced when she looked into his face.

He lifted his eyebrow as if to say, “Are you as stupid as you look?”

She swallowed and looked at the menu, which had never happened before in her life. Having been raised in the company, she had it memorized. For crying out loud, she helped design it. Yet the way Christian was looking at her made it difficult to even remember her name.

From a marketing standpoint, his face was perfect for the company posters. Her mother would have loved watching Kessen in this uncomfortable situation, considering she was normally so sure of herself. The wistful memory jolted Kessen out of her confused fog.

“I’ll have a large coffee with cream.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course you will.”

“Excuse me?” she asked a little loudly, putting her hands on her hips.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you need to be excused for something?” he snapped. His face contorted with a mix of humor and irritation.

Her mouth dropped open. “Why are you being so rude?” This time she tried to whisper so people wouldn’t stare.

“I wasn’t. I merely stated it was normal for someone like you to order coffee rather than tea. You’ve probably never even had tea before. It comes from a leaf, by the way.”

Sarcastic laughter bubbled out of her. “Wow, your intelligence is intimidating. Thanks for the botany lesson. And you’re right, I don’t like tea. I hate tea.”

She leveled her eyes with his, as she confidently stood her ground. She refused to back down just because the man in front of her had issues with Americans and apparently all things coffee.

He looked like she had just slapped him. “How dare you come in here and say you hate tea! Do you even know what this company stands for?”

“Stuffy old British people who think tea solves everything?” She put her finger to her head to show deep thought. “Am I close?”

“I hate Americans,” he muttered under his breath.

“Well, I hate England!” she said, albeit a little too loudly. She winced when she looked at their audience—most of them looking at her as if she had just burned their beloved flag. Oh, well. Might as well seal the deal. “And I’m sorry,” she said. “But tea doesn’t solve anything! It’s not going to cure cancer, and the world has progressed to more than just one type of drink … yes, there is a thing called water, and there’s soda, and juice, and heaven forbid, coffee. Broaden your horizons, pop star.”

The barista’s eyes looked as if they were going to bug out of her face. If possible, steam would have been billowing out of Christian’s ears. He leaned inches in front of her face. Kessen’s breathing became labored, but not out of attraction. If they were both men, punches would have already been thrown.

Just then, Duncan came out of hiding and sauntered behind the counter, slapping Christian on the back.

“Christian, meet Lord Newberry’s daughter, Kessen. Kessen, meet your new business partner, Christian—” He looked like he was going to say Christian’s last name, then appeared to change his mind as he looked toward her. “Just Christian.”

You could have heard a pin drop in that shop. Kessen prayed the earth would swallow her up; she even closed her eyes to prepare for it, but was sadly disappointed when nothing happened. Instead she held out a shaky hand to Christian and offered a sweet, searing smile.

“Wow, nice dental plan. Hey, are your teeth real?” Duncan asked as Christian maneuvered everyone out of earshot from the rest of the customers.

Kessen smiled, thinking he was kidding, but he looked as serious as could be.

“You’re joking right?” she pleaded. “Who asks someone if their teeth are real? That’s like asking a woman if her b—”She stopped short and reddened. Christian let out a bark of laughter.

“What was that, love?” His deep laugh openly mocked her.

“I want my coffee.” She pulled off her sunglasses and crossed her arms.

Christian gazed at her briefly, and then turned to grab the coffee abruptly, breaking all eye contact.

****

It was so much worse than he could have possibly imagined. Bright green eyes searched his when she pulled off her sunglasses. Pictures had not done the girl justice whatsoever. Long platinum blonde hair gave her the stereotypical look of an American heiress, but those eyes. Her eyes were brilliant. If only he could get her to keep her mouth shut, lest he become entangled in another argument in front of customers. What in the blazes was wrong with him? How unprofessional could a person get? Especially one raised to be a duke! Luck had not been on his side this week. He could only hope his father wouldn’t catch wind of the Marquess getting into it with a beautiful blonde customer at one of the local stores.

Christian put the lid on her coffee and handed it to her. She appeared to be about twenty-five, though he couldn't really tell. She certainly had enough spirit to set the room on fire. He struggled to regain his composure.

Duncan cleared his throat. “Is your eye color real, too?”

Christian had never been so irritated. Duncan was having the time of his life. Of course he would bring her here and dangle her like a carrot. He knew Christian’s reputation with women. It was a challenge; that’s what it was. Duncan was flaunting the daughter of Lord Newberry like a lamb to the slaughter. Christian would not fall for it, not in a million years. So what if he was a playboy? That had been years ago. His reality was a somewhat broken heart after this week. It didn’t help that in his current state, he could see himself causing the irritating woman physical harm.

Apparently the American princess had had enough. Her eyebrows furrowed in the most irresistible way as she clenched her fists. “All of me is real!” she whisper-yelled, but not before Christian and Duncan along with the rest of the store burst out into laughter.

“I can't believe I just said that.” She hid her head in her hands. “Can I claim temporary insanity? I took sleeping meds on my flight.”

“I’m sure you did,” Christian said, not taking his eyes off hers. “Drink your coffee. You're right. You really do need it.”

He put out his hand to introduce himself. “I’m the Marketing VP for the London operation.”

She smiled tensely. “Of course you are.” Then glancing at Duncan, “You'll pay for your many sins, Duncan Dickerson.”

That got a laugh out of everyone again. If Christian wasn't already so put off by Americans and women in general, he might actually like this one.

Duncan put a hand to his chest. “Me? Oh, I was just having a bit of fun. It was good for you to meet Christian. Would you like me to take you to your home now?”

“Home?” she asked, looking between them. “I have a house?”

“She doesn’t know?” Christian asked Duncan.

Duncan shrugged his shoulders. “I doubt her father told her everything.”

At this Christian smiled. “My lady.” He bent to kiss her hand before she had adequate time to pull it back.

“I don’t like your tone,” she said in a low voice.

Christian ignored her sarcasm. “You will be staying with your grandmother, at her house, which is actually your father’s house; it’s been around for generations.”

She rolled her eyes. “So I’ve been told.”

“We truly do have a rich history here in London—”

She put up her hand to silence him. “If you sing ‘God Save the Queen,’ I'm throwing my coffee in your face.”

“Wow. She wasn't joking about the sleep meds and the bad flight.” Duncan nudged Christian in the ribs.

“We best take her home,” Christian answered.

“Um, hi. I'm right here.” Kessen raised her hand.

Duncan laughed. “That’s a relief; she does know where she is.”

Christian’s expression turned sober as he nodded his head emphatically. “Good girl.” He patted her head and caught her rolling her eyes as she pulled away from him.

“Like I said, feisty,” Duncan muttered.

“Wait. How would you have talked to him about me?” she asked.