Compromising Kessen (Vandenbrook #1)(11)

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.

Christian laughed—the perfect timing. Duncan had earlier texted him about her complaint of men and technology. “His social media update.”

She growled, literally, and walked out the door.

Duncan threw the keys at Christian. “You do the honors. I think you've finally met your match, my lord.”

Christian rolled his eyes in disgust. “I can handle her.”

“See that you do.” Duncan nodded towards the door. “Hurry. A girl like that doesn’t stick around forever.”

Confused by his comment, Christian turned around and went to the waiting car.

Kessen was waiting in the car with her arms crossed protectively over her chest. As if any minute Christian was going to ravage her or stare too long. He rolled his eyes and got into the driver’s seat.

“You know, I can take care of myself. If you just give me directions to the house, you can stay for your meeting,” she said.

At least she’s not so selfish she doesn’t realize the sacrifice in my job it takes for me to drive her around. “You don’t like my company?” he asked teasingly.

She refused to look at him once. “No, I think you’re rude, remember? And apparently my dislike for tea makes us sworn enemies.”

Christian laughed. “Oh yes, sorry. I forgot. You are correct. But if you must know, I would feel like a cad if I let you find your grandmother’s house on your own. With your Yankees t-shirt, you would be mugged within minutes.”

“How comforting.” She snorted.

“Isn’t it, though?”

She turned towards him. “So what is it exactly that you do?”

“I see you’re still feisty,” he mumbled, but continued. “Considering I am the vice president of marketing for this branch, I’ll be the one to show you the ropes of the London office in between your visits with your family.”

Kessen made a weird face, and then huffed. “It will be good to see her.”

“Who?”

“My grandmother.” She smiled. “I haven’t seen her since grandfather died. I’m actually really excited. Oh, and my cousin’s getting married. Did you know that?”

“Uh…” Christian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No, that’s wonderful. Who is she marrying?”

“You mean to tell me London is so small you think you know every man who walks the street?” she asked dryly.

He ignored her jab “No, but your cousin is from a wealthy family. Wealthy families don’t date outside of their social circles. It simply isn’t done. And your father is an earl.”

“Just like the Vandenbrooks.” She sighed and looked out the window.

Christian accidently slammed on the brakes, and then cursed loudly. But he didn’t realize the window was open, so he grimaced as several people shook their heads in his direction—more likely from his lack of driving skills rather than the words coming out of his mouth.

“Did you say Vandenbrooks?” He choked.

She looked at him oddly. “Yes,” she said slowly, as if he was a five-year-old. “I do read, you know. Don’t judge; those novels are … historical.”

He laughed until his face hurt. “Historical? The romance novels about the Vandenbrook family are historical? And just where, dear girl, do you check your facts? The internet?”