He leaned back, crossing his right ankle over his left knee.
She swallowed. “And what kind of plan is it? It must include me or you wouldn’t be here.”
“You’re at the center of it.”
“Really?” She blinked several times. “How so? I no longer own King’s…” She trailed off, avoiding his gaze.
That had made his work more difficult. All these years, Griffin focused on taking her down by destroying King’s Department Store. He altered course when she sold it unexpectedly. He’d gain access, still ruin it and painstakingly bit by bit, attach her name to the demise. She’d never be welcomed in the high society she clung to ever again.
However, once he met the King daughters, witnessed their devotion and passion to honoring their late father, Charles King, Griff’s intentions flew out the window. Mrs. King’s slow, brutal fall would only bring shame and disgrace on the King name and especially the daughters who’d done nothing wrong other than to have her for a stepmother and mother. The sins of the mother…
They deserved better.
He could give that to them. But at a very steep price.
“Must you make me wait any longer?”
“I will make King’s more successful than you ever could.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she sputtered. “I refuse any part of it.”
“Refuse?”
“Yes, absolutely. This was not part of our plan.”
“Your plan,” he corrected. “I never agreed.”
She paled. Her mouth opened and closed. “How dare you lead me on, Mr. James. How dare you come into my home and disrespect me.”
Griffin held her furious stare. He felt nothing. That frightened him. Who would he be without all that pent-up fury toward her he’d carried for all these years? He pressed onward with his mission. He’d get it back and gain the satisfaction of her fall from grace. “Your home? Isn’t it the King home?” he drawled. Her eye twitched. “Isn’t it the family home?”
Sticking her chin out, she snapped, “Of course.”
“Your daughters’ home, also?”
She fidgeted with her hair again.
“I would say that’s a yes.” He knew somewhere there was a will that said exactly that and a great deal more. Years ago, on the instructions of Charles King, his father had drawn up the document. Bruno had validated the existence of it, although he’d never physically seen it. Now, Griffin just had to find it. In the meantime, he’d ensure his own success by doing the one thing that no one, especially Agnes King, could deny. He’d married her daughter, gaining access to the family in a way he never imagined. As Priscilla’s husband, he’d force Mrs. King to comply with the terms of the bogus will she’d waved in everyone’s faces all these years.
“I think we’re done.”
“Not quite, Mrs. King. Or would you prefer I call you Mother now that Priscilla and I are married?”
“What?!” She shot to her feet, dropping her glass. The liquid spilled on the expensive Oriental rug.
Griffin smiled all the way to the door.
Chapter 16
Priscilla knew the moment Griffin arrived; she felt his forceful presence. Turning, she met his stare across the room. “Excuse me, Mrs. Royale,” she said to Alex’s grandmother.
“Of course, dear.”
He stood in the doorway, half in and half out of the festivities, keeping himself apart. Something deep inside her tugged. Going to him now, she smiled, stood on tip toes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I missed you,” she said, meaning it.
His warm, strong arms held her close. He buried his face in her neck, sighing. “Me, too, Pixie.” His raw, gruff voice made her wonder if he’d run into something difficult at King’s.
Before she could ask him, the claps and whistles from her family drew her away. Heat crawled up her neck. Together, they faced the others.
“Come on in and join the party, Griff,” Charlie said, directing them into the room.
Priscilla beamed as her sisters, their husbands, and their family, and friends extended warm welcomes and congratulations to Griff and her. Looking over at him, she noted his surprised gaze. But he wasn’t smiling.
She slipped her hand into his and squeezed. He didn’t just squeeze back; he held onto it. A short time later, she finally felt him relax. Inwardly, her middle eased.
He glanced over at her and winked.
Wicked man. Here, in the middle of everyone, he did something so out of character, so openly flirtatious that she had to stomp down on the sudden wave of desire sweeping through her. “Not fair,” she whispered.
“Me?” he asked between gritted teeth as he nodded to Peg as she suggested they come get something to eat and pronto. “Be right there,” he called after her. To Priscilla, he guided her to the overflowing table in the formal dining room, saying, “The way you’ve been looking at me, I thought I was the one on the menu.”