Pride & Pleasure (The KNIGHT Brothers Book 1) (4 page)

“It’s okay, Miss Pine. Your honesty is refreshing. I’m rather bored with the decorations myself.”

“Then redecorate.” Again, the words came out before she could stop them. When had she ever been this talkative? Now was not the time to come out of her bubble.

The area between his brows scrunched. “Good idea. Any suggestions?”

“I’m sorry, but home design is not a talent of mine.”

“I’m only asking for your opinion.”

“I guess I expected the inside to be as warm and inviting as the outside. The property is beautiful. The stone front with white pillars is elegant, yet the flowers and bright red door portray a charming feel.”

“Point taken.” There was that semi-smile again. “Did you have an enjoyable trip here? I would have been happy to have sent a car to gather you.”

“I didn’t mind the drive.”

“I find driving a car frustrating. Dealing with other motorists is a pain.”

“I can see how one who likes to control everything around him wouldn’t feel comfortable with sharing the roads.”
Oh shit!
“I’m sorry. I really don’t know where all of these opinions are coming from.” How were things getting off the beaten trail? This should have been easy.

“No apology is necessary.” He pushed a folder to the side.

“So,” she was in a hurry to get the conversation back on track. “I received the letter, and then I spoke with your secretary. You’re wishing for me to play privately?”

“For a dinner party tomorrow night. A small gathering.”

“Gathering?” Her palms turned clammy.
Relax, Avary.

“Is that a problem?” He lifted one brow.

“No, of course not.” She gave her head a dramatic shake. “I’ll play only at dinner?”

“Unless the need arises before then.”

She slid her hands down her thighs. “Okay. I’m here for you, so I can play as often as you wish.”
What? My words totally came off as sexual.

He blinked and his jaw turned solid again. “Let’s get one thing straight, you’re not here for me,” he said point blank and fumbled with a pen, sticking it back into a metal holder.

“I’m not?”

“No, Miss Pine.”

“But-but you were the one who wrote to me, asking for my services.” The room suddenly grew warmer.

He cocked his head to the side, regarding her with his brooding gaze. “I arranged for you to come here, but I’m afraid that’s where my interest ends.”

Although his voice was soft, the meaning of his words were harsh.  It was as if the water faucet had been turned to cold. “I’m sorry, but I’m confused.”

“Don’t be. It’s rather simple.”

She was beginning to realize that maybe the statements in all of the magazines about his aloof personality were correct. He seemed about as clinical as the rest of the house. Thankfully, the amazing view and shelves of books warmed his office and made it appear as if a human, not a robot, lived here. “Okay then, maybe you should fill me in on whose interest it is in me being here.” She’d always been patient, but something about cool, collected Mr. Knight set her on edge. He looked at her as if she’d grown a funky growth in the center of her forehead. And the way his ominous glare stayed on her, even when he had to know it made her uncomfortable, was more than she could handle.

He leaned back into the chair, steepling his fingers and continuing to watch her over his fingertips. A second, and then another, ticked by and finally one corner of his mouth played at a smile, but didn’t quite come across fully. “My sister, Angelina, happens to be a fan of yours.”

“Will I be meeting Angelina then?”

He didn’t answer.

The air grew stagnant and she grew irritated. Goosebumps scattered her skin and she wasn’t completely sure why. “Is that a no?” she asked.

“Let me ask, Miss Pine, why did you agree to come here? An awarded musician doing house calls seems rather odd.”

She gulped air. Did he not know of her history? “
Was
an awarded musician.” No reason to deny the truth. He could find the information out very easily with just a few presses on the keyboard. “Have you never had a musician come play at a dinner party before?”

He dropped his hands back onto the desk and she looked at them. They were quite large. His fingernails were square and clean. He probably had regular manicures. “What happened?”

“I have a feeling you already know the answer to that,” she whispered.

There it was, he actually smiled, but it still didn’t reach his eyes. “A man can’t be too careful when inviting guests into his home, now can he?”

“Just keep in mind Mr. Knight, it was you, and your sister, who invited me here, not the other way around. So if you’re suspicious of my intentions—”

He held up a hand as if to shush her. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Really. Sure sounded like that’s what you were saying.” She needed the job, but she could do without his attitude.

“I read what happened. A mugger attacked you outside of the theater where you played. What I couldn’t understand was why you quit playing after that. Two years, right? An artist never stops doing what they love to do.”

She sat straighter in the chair. “It wasn’t a choice, Mr. Knight!” Feeling her blood pressure rise, she concentrated on her breathing. The last thing she needed was to have a panic attack right here. “Have you brought me here to play or to interrogate me on my past?”

“I wasn’t aware that a few simple questions could be construed as an interrogation.”

“Depends on which side of the fence you’re on, Mr. Knight. The seat is pretty hot on this side. Yet, I have a feeling you enjoy tossing your authority around.” She didn’t dare turn her gaze away from him, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing that he made her skin prickly all over.

“Then accept my apology, Miss Pine. You can tell me in your own comfortable time.” He picked up his glass and took a drink.

“Then you’ll be waiting for a while,” she murmured.  Her fingers were growing cold holding the glass and she darted a quick glance around her. There was nowhere to set it down. She’d have to get up, walk across the room to the bar, which meant that he’d be watching her. Her fingers trembled and the water splashed over the rim.

He stood and came around the desk. “Here. Let me take that before it lands in your lap.” He took the water and their fingers brushed again. An electric current swept up her arm, this time stronger, sparking her heart beat into a racing tempo.

She didn’t dare look at him for fear that he would see straight through her. Was he afraid she’d ruin his expensive rug with spilled water? A man like him probably never spilled anything. She could add snob to his list of unappealing characteristics. If it wasn’t for the fact that she needed the money, and didn’t want to let her sister down, Avary would have already ran out of the door far away from his pensive gaze. Maybe if she ran, she’d continue driving all of the way into Mexico. Or become a gypsy. She couldn’t face her sister and explain that Mr. Knight scared her off. Her options were thin.

After placing the water on the bar, he sat on the corner of the desk instead of going back behind it to his chair. Was this his attempt to look taller, more intimidating? Damn, why did it work? He liked being in a powerful position, and she refused to melt under his arrogance. Even though she didn’t come from money and didn’t wear expensive fashion or graduate from the best college with honors, doesn’t mean she would sink under his stare. She sat straighter, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin, finding confidence she didn’t know she had.

“Such a wasted gift.” He sighed.

“Mr. Knight, didn’t you say that only your sister is a fan of mine? So therefore why are you commenting on my talent when apparently you haven’t partaken?” She kept her gaze steady.

He chuckled. The sound ripped through her. “Do you drive?”

The question threw her off guard, but she recovered quickly. “I-I…yes, of course. I drove here, didn’t I?”

“But if I offered you a spin in my Mercedes, you would. Correct?”

“Probably not, Mr. Knight.”

“Humor me. Let’s say you would. After taking the car for a drive, if I asked you your opinion, you’d have every right to give me your view. You do have an opinion, as we’ve seen.”

Oh, she saw where this was going. “Yes, I’ve been known to have a few.”

“Just as I have an opinion about your talent.”

She gritted her teeth, “But I didn’t ask for yours,” she huffed.

“You didn’t? I’m paying you to play for my friends, so that gives me the right.”

“Mr. Knight, apparently you’re under the false understanding that money can buy you anything. I’m afraid you’re wrong.”

He nodded. “Thank you for making me aware of my limitations.” He cocked his head to the side. “If it makes you feel any better, I said I wasn’t a fan of yours, but I didn’t say that I didn’t like your talent. In fact, for such a young woman you certainly had the musical fan base by the bal—” He caught himself. “by the horns.”

“I could say the same. For a man as young as you, you’re certainly taking the business world by storm.”

He paused and several expressions fluttered across his smooth shaven face. “There’s a difference, Miss Pine. You chose the cello out of love. The family business was chosen for me out of obligation.” He pushed off the desk and took several steps away from her.

“We all have choices.”

His eyes flared. “Is that so?”

“Some people would call this lifestyle lucky. To live in a mansion on a secluded estate, with the means to do as one pleases. I think you’re the envy of half the world.”

“Oh, the cages of responsibility.” He chuckled, but it was harsh sounding. “Surely you understand the cage I’m referring to, Miss Pine. Or maybe you don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

He fixed her with his gaze. “I don’t have the luxury of just walking away, dropping my obligation.”

“I do believe you have an opinion about everything.”

“Only when it matters.”

“I can’t begin to see how my career matters outside of this weekend.”

“And so you’ve come all the way here from the city. To fatten your bank account.”

She sniffed. “That’s presumptuous.”

“Or fact? It’s not to play. After all, you’ve turned down numerous invitations to play.”

She blinked. How much research had he actually done? “I think I’ve heard enough.” She stood.  “I believe I’ve made a mistake by coming here.”

He took a step toward her. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Oh, I think it will be. Yes, Mr. Knight, I do need the money, but that doesn’t give you the right to insult me.”

“Again, forgive my lack of social propriety.” He pushed the button on his phone, still watching her. “Max, please show Miss Pine to her room and make sure she has everything she needs.”

She was taken back by his lack of courtesy. “Mr. Knight, what if I haven’t changed
my
mind. I really think you’re wanting someone different than me.”

One eyebrow raised. His eyes lit up. “Come now. No need to act brash. I promise by dinner I’ll have my proper host face on. Besides, I’ve had the cook prepare a delicious meal for us.”

He sat down, lowered his head to an open folder on his desk as if clueing her in on the fact that he was done with her.

The door opened and Max appeared. “Ma’am, this way.”

Not sure whether to flip Victor Knight the bird or be happy that she could get away from him before she said a few words that she’d never said to anyone, she stood there for the longest time, but he continued to ignore her.

“Ma’am?” Max repeated.

Turning on her heel, she stomped from the office and Max closed the door behind her. “Is he always this way?” she asked.

“In what way, Miss Pine?”

“Insufferable.”

The man hid his smile behind his hand. Clearing his throat, he finally said, “I’m afraid he can be a little coarse at times.”

“A little? What are you measuring with? The Eiffel Tower?” Complaining about Max’s boss wasn’t appropriate, but she needed to vent.

“He’ll unwind. Just give him some time.”

“I don’t think I have twenty years to spare,” she rolled her eyes.

“Miss Pine, I think you’ll find your room to your liking. Mr. Knight has asked that you stay in the east wing suite. Rumor says that Marilyn Monroe stayed in that very suite when Fitzgerald Lemure owned the place.”

“Fitzgerald Lemure?”

“Yes. He lived here all of his life, was quite the playboy. When he passed the property was sold to the Knight family.” Max stopped at the first step on the stairs and pointed at a large portrait of a stern-looking, mustached man who had black hair laced with silver threads. “This is Theobald Knight, Victor’s father.”

“Mr. Knight looks just like him.”

“Yes, they do.” Max started up the large, winding staircase. “I was a fairly young man when I first started here, when all of the Knight children were still running through the halls and skinning their knees. Theobald was a force to be reckoned with, without a doubt, but a good man. Under all of that personality was a beating heart as pure as gold, just broken by his unfortunate plight. He’d never gotten over the death of his wife, Rose. She was the love of his life and he never did figure out what to do with all of the pain. I must say, she was a ray of sunshine, bringing life to this place, making her children happy, and when she died a lot of the joy went with her. You could almost see the innocence leave their faces.”