Pregnant with the Billionaire's Baby(32)

‘And if it were a sexual invitation…?’

‘I would tell you I’ve already seen them!’

Sin found himself grinning at her waspish tone. ‘No doubt you will see them again, too.’

She eyed him challengingly. ‘You think so?’

‘I live in hopes of that being the case, yes,’ he said wryly. ‘But my invitation to come and look at my study was exactly that,’ he continued briskly as he saw a light of rebellion creeping back into those incredible blue eyes.

He had done very well by succeeding in getting her to the house in the first place without too much resistance on her part—he certainly didn’t want to push his luck.

Luccy frowned her puzzlement. ‘And why would I want to see your study?’

‘Just come and look, Luccy, hmm?’ He didn’t wait for her to prevaricate further, but took hold of her by the arm, striding out of the kitchen and through to the back of the house before throwing open another door.

If the kitchen was so neat and pristine it looked almost unused, then this room was in chaos! The huge oak desk was overflowing with papers and files and several cups of half-drunk coffee; the bin beside the desk was completely full too, and several drawers had been left open in the filing cabinets along one wall.

Luccy turned to look at Sin as he leant against the wall of the hallway outside, arms crossed over the broadness of his chest as he waited for her reaction. ‘This is a mess,’ she exclaimed, remembering belatedly that when she had visited him in his hotel suite that evening two months ago it hadn’t been particularly tidy, either.

He smiled. ‘I’m glad you approve. Wallace is under strict instructions never to enter or touch anything in this room unless he finds himself with a masochistic desire to be parted from a certain part of his anatomy!’

Luccy gave a rueful smile at the unmistakable reference. ‘And who is Wallace?’

‘Wallace is my—ah, here’s the man himself.’ He turned as a door opened further down the hallway to admit an elderly gentleman dressed in black trousers and a black waistcoat worn over a snowy white shirt, a grey tie tied meticulously at his throat.

‘You have been in the kitchen again, Master Sin,’ the elderly man—as English as Luccy was, surprisingly—tutted reprovingly.

A rebuke Sin seemed completely unconcerned by. ‘Wallace, come and say hello to Luccy Harper-O’Neill,’ he invited warmly.

‘Luccy, this is Wallace,’ he introduced once the older man had joined them.

‘Mr Wallace.’ She shook his hand, instinctively liking the kind blue eyes in the elderly man’s lined face.

‘He insists on just Wallace,’ Sin told her ruefully. ‘Apparently it isn’t the done thing in an English household to call a butler by the title of Mr,’ he confided with a gently mocking glance at the older man.

Luccy raised surprised brows. ‘You’re a butler?’

‘I consider myself more in the nature of a nursemaid, Miss Harper-O’Neill,’ the elderly man confided dryly. ‘Master Sin may be able to run a business empire with aplomb, but without my presence here I doubt that he would even be able to find a clean shirt to put on to go to work in the morning, let alone feed himself.’

‘You see what happens when someone has known you since you were two years old—you get absolutely no respect!’ Sin said good-humouredly.

Luccy found herself smiling at the obvious affection that existed between the two men.

Sin enjoyed seeing Luccy’s obvious bemusement at the addition of Wallace to his household. Maybe persuading her to stay awhile wasn’t going to be quite as difficult as he had thought it was going to be…?

He turned to Wallace. ‘I was only in your precious kitchen earlier because I was about to make some tea for Miss Harper-O’Neill.’

‘Really?’ the elderly man said. ‘Believe me, Miss Harper-O’Neill, you will be much safer if I make it. Master Sin has been known to give even boiled water a strange taste!’

‘There was something wrong with the water supply that particular day,’ Sin protested.

‘Of course there was, Master Sin,’ the manservant murmured. ‘If you would care to take Miss Harper-O’Neill out onto the terrace I will serve tea to you both directly.’

‘Luccy?’ Sin prompted as he saw she was still rather bemused by Wallace’s complete irreverence towards him. But having known the elderly butler for thirty-three of his thirty-five years, Sin considered Wallace as part of his family rather than a servant, and he knew that the affection was returned; the Sinclairs were Wallace’s family.