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Harvey looks at me and mirrors my stance, hands in pockets. “Guess I’m in your hands then.” He smirks. The flare of his eyes sending a wave of heat over my body, and I flinch at the unfamiliarity of it. I should not have suggested being left alone with him.
“Follow me.”
I show him the upstairs first, finding Murray in the CCTV room and allowing him a brief rundown of the surveillance. Harvey asks a few questions and seems impressed by the equipment.
“This is Guinevere’s room, you do not go in there,” I say as we head back down the hall.
“Guinevere?”
“My housekeeper, you will meet her tomorrow.”
“She lives here?” He seems surprised.
“She does.” Guinevere’s story isn’t mine to tell, so I don’t say anymore. “My room is at the end of the hall and there’s a spare room here.” I open the door to show him the simple room. “You can use this room if you ever need to stay overnight, or rest while you’re here.” Turning to face him, he is a lot closer than I thought, leaning in to see the room. I jerk back before our noses bump together and his eyes widen in surprise before he clears his throat and straightens up, looking anywhere but at me.
“You’ll be wanting me to stay over?”
“No,” I answer too quickly before I check myself. Why does this feel so awkward? “I just mean that sometimes work goes on until the early hours and sometimes the guys like to crash here or sleep in shifts. I won’tmakeyou stay.”
His lips curl and I find it infuriating. “That’s a shame.”
I huff a breath out through my nose, nostrils flaring and my frustration rising. This guy isn’t intimidated by me, he feels comfortable making jokes and inappropriate comments. I’m just about boot him back in his place when he speaks again.
“What are the other rooms?”
I open and close my mouth as I wonder whether to answer the question or ignore it and tell him to cut out the cockiness. “They’re nothing.”
“You don’t trust me to know?” He smiles in amusement as though he’s read me perfectly. It irks me.
I barge past him and open the door to one of the offending rooms, turning to him with an arched brow and unimpressed lips. “Like I said, they’re nothing. Feel free to snoop and roam as much as you want to learn all my dirty secrets.”
He peeks in and then back down the hall. “So, you have four completely empty rooms?”
“Yes.”
A line forms between his brows as he considers me. “Why do you have such a big house if you can’t fill it?”
“I could ask the same about your pants.” Not my finest comeback. But this guy seems to be messing with my head.
He seems far from insulted, his lips twitching with aggravating smugness. “I have no troubles filling them, trust me.”
“I don’t,” I seethe.
That fucking smile stretches, and he folds his thick arms over the t-shirt clinging to his pectorals. “You want proof?”
I may actually blush for the first time in my life. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Hmm, but it’s kind of what you said.”
I roll my eyes and head back down to the ground floor. I don’t tell him to follow me, but the thudding of his heavy footsteps confirm that he is. We do a quick circuit of the living room, library, and the never used but impeccably furnished dining room before I bring him to the kitchen. This tends to be where everyone congregates when the house is a little more active. Mostly because Guinevere feeds the guys and they like to bearound her, she’s young and pretty, sweet and innocent in a way you don’t get in our industry. I understand why they want to soak it in.
“Wow.” Harvey looks genuinely impressed by the room.
I’ve never tried cooking in my life and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be good at it if I did. The kitchen used to be just fine, but it was the only room I completely re-did when I took over the house. It was hiring Guinevere that made me decide on the change. She was hired just as a housekeeper; I didn’t expect her to cook for me too. But she loved doing it and spent so much time in the kitchen, consequently drawing everyone else to the room. So, five years ago, when she’s only been with me a few months, I gutted and redecorated the kitchen. I did it for me, obviously, it’s my house. But Guinevere was exceedingly grateful and she cried when she thanked me. It made me uncomfortable.
“You like to cook?” Harvey distracts me from my thoughts.
“Absolutely not.” I say without inflection. “But Guinevere does.”
