Unveiled
Page 53

A perfectly straight face slowly turns to me, and he inhales as he smoothes down his suit, taking his usual ridiculous time and care, while I remain totally dumbfounded before him, waiting for . . . something . . . anything.
‘Give me something!’ I blurt, still rubbing at my backside.
He finishes up perfecting his perfect suit, then sweeps his perfect hair from the goddamn perfect face. His eyes darken. My legs cross in my standing position. ‘Another one?’ he asks casually, a glint of mischief in his beautiful eyes.
I take a deep breath and hold it, biting at my bottom lip furiously. What’s gotten into him? Is Nan rubbing off on him?
‘What I’d actually like to do is sink my teeth into that gorgeous, cute arse.’
All breath leaves my lungs and sexual anticipation devours me. The bastard. He has no intention whatsoever of finishing what he’s started. But that doesn’t zap my craving or my need. Damn him!
He nears, slowly, like he’s on the prowl, my eyes following him until he’s breathing down on me. ‘Sweet Nan isn’t in any fit state to be brandishing a carving knife.’ He wiggles a suggestive eyebrow. It’s probably the most unlike-Miller action of all the unlike-Miller actions I’ve experienced as our relationship has grown. I can’t help myself. I fall to pieces before him, but he doesn’t recoil in offense like I expect him to. He starts laughing, too, and while my desperate desire for him has faded somewhat, the overwhelming happiness coursing through me is a good compromise.
‘Don’t be so sure.’ I chuckle as he takes my waist and turns me in his arms, starting to guide me down the hall with his chin resting on my shoulder. ‘I think her sass has multiplied as a result of all that medication.’
He pushes his mouth to my ear. It has me closing my eyes and soaking up every delicious piece of him touching me. ‘I concur,’ he whispers, nibbling at my lobe.
I don’t need to fight the flames of desire from my veins because they turn to flames of madness the moment we fall into the kitchen and I catch Nan filling the kettle at the sink. ‘Nan!’
‘I tried!’ George gasps, throwing exasperated arms into the air as he sits. ‘She’s having none of it!’
‘Me too,’ Gregory interjects, just to put me firmly in the picture, his arse dropping to a chair at the kitchen table. He looks over at me, shaking his head. ‘I’m not up for a verbal beating down. I’ve had enough physical ones.’
Guilt plagues me for a split second as a result of my best friend’s curt quip, before I’m reminded of my grievance when the kettle clatters against the edge of the sink. ‘For God’s sake!’ I shout, zooming across the kitchen when she totters slightly. Miller’s in quick pursuit, and I hear the scraping of two chairs, indicating Gregory’s and George’s quick movements. ‘Why can’t you just listen?’ I yell, anger and worry all mixing together, making me shake as I hold her.
‘Stop fussing!’ she barks, trying to bat my grappling hands away. ‘I’m no invalid!’
It takes every modicum of strength not to scream my frustration at her, and I turn my helpless eyes to Miller, surprised to see annoyance rife on his lovely face. His lips straighten, which would usually be cause for concern, but right now I’m silently willing him to help rein in my stubborn grandmother.
‘Here,’ he mutters impatiently, removing the kettle from her hands and slamming it down before taking possession of Nan. ‘You will sit, Mrs Taylor.’ He guides a bewildered Nan past a stunned George and Gregory and sits her in a chair. She’s looking up at Miller from her seated position with wary eyes as he towers over her, daring her to defy him. She’s speechless, her mouth dropped open in shock. Miller drags in a long, calming pull of breath, hitches up his trousers slightly at the thighs, then lowers to his haunches before her. Nan’s eyes follow him down until they’re level. She remains silent, and so do the rest of us.
‘You will do as you’re told,’ Miller begins, quickly raising a hand and placing a finger over her lips when she inhales, ready to fire back some sass. ‘Nuh-uh-uh,’ Miller cuts in firmly. I might not be able to see his face, but I can see the slight warning cock of his head, and I know for sure she’s also being held in place with equally warning eyes. Miller slowly, carefully removes his finger and she immediately purses her lips indignantly.
‘Quite the bossy man, aren’t you?’
‘You have no idea, Mrs Taylor.’
Nan’s eyes flip to mine, searching for . . . I don’t know what, but I know I’m giving her something, even if I’m trying my hardest not to. My cheeks are flushing furiously. I damn them to hell for letting me down and shift under her curious gaze.
‘Mrs Taylor,’ Miller says quietly, saving me from further probing eyes when she returns her attention to him. ‘I’m quite familiar with the Taylor sass.’ He jabs a thumb over his shoulder in my general direction, making me want to announce that it’s only utilised in special circumstances. But I refrain. Wisely. ‘I’ve become quite accustomed to it, in fact.’
‘Bully for you,’ Nan mutters, raising her nose in the air insolently. ‘What you gonna do? Spank me?’
I cough to conceal my laugh, as do George and Gregory. She’s a gem!
‘Not my style,’ Miller replies flippantly, not biting to her sass. It only spikes more huffiness from Nan and snickering to the point of tears from the rest of us. This is just priceless, and I desperately avoid George’s and Gregory’s eyes, knowing they’ll have me doubling over should I catch a glimpse of their own amusement.
‘Do you know how much I love your granddaughter, Josephine?’
That soon brings all of the uncontrollable tittering to a rapid halt, and Nan’s face softens in an instant. ‘I have a good idea,’ she says quietly.
‘Well let me confirm it for you,’ Miller says formally. ‘It hurts like hell.’ I freeze and watch Nan’s face over Miller’s shoulder practically burst with happiness. ‘Right here.’ He takes her hand and lays it over his suit jacket. ‘My sweet girl has shown me how to love, and that just makes me love her all the more. She’s everything to me. Seeing her hurt or sad, it cripples me, Josephine.’
I remain quiet in the background, just like Gregory and George. He’s speaking to her like they’re alone. I don’t know what this has to do with Nan being obedient, but he seems to be in his stride and I trust it has some relevance.
‘I know that feeling,’ Nan murmurs, forcing a sad smile. I could cry. ‘I’ve felt that before.’
Miller nods and reaches up to brush a stray grey curl from her forehead. ‘Olivia is besotted with you, dear lady. And I’m quite fond of you, too.’
Nan gives Miller a shy smile and claims his hand. I’ve no doubt she’s squeezing it hard. ‘You ain’t so bad yourself.’
‘I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.’
‘And you have good buns!’
‘So I’m told.’ He laughs, leaning in and kissing her cheek. I crumble on the inside with happiness, when I should probably be rolling on the floor with laughter as a result of her cheeky remark.
Miller’s never had anyone. Now he not only has me, but he has my nan as well. And the extent of his appreciation is suddenly so palpable. He loves Nan, too. On a different level, of course, but his feelings for her are strong. Very strong, and he’s proved it in every word and action since we’ve returned from New York.