Whiskey Prince
Page 46

 Toni Aleo

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“It isn’t haunted, right?”
Declan laughs as he shakes his head. “Not our wing. My grandda claimed at one time his part was by his great-grandda, but I haven’t found any activity and believe me, Kane and I looked when we were kids.”
“I don’t doubt that,” I say as he parks. Someone opens the door for me and helps me out before wishing me a good afternoon.
“Hello, thank you.”
The man, I think his name is Matthew, smiles before Declan takes my hand. “Thanks, Matthew.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
Tucking my hand under his arm where it rests on his bicep, he covers it with his other hand as we walk through the large, stone doors. “Are you hungry?”
I shake my head. My stomach is hurting from all the ice cream and popcorn I devoured. “Not right now.”
“Awesome, we can get right to it then.”
My insides clench as my heart speeds up in my chest. Gasping for breath, I allow him to lead me through the gorgeous home. The furnishings are from the 1900s, classic and classy. There are pictures everywhere, big ones of Declan and who I assume is Lena. She’s as beautiful as he is, big blue eyes, long, light blonde hair, and skinny as a rail. When he said she was more of a Barbie Doll, he wasn’t much off. She’s perfect.
While it was a beautiful home, without the pictures of Declan’s family, I wouldn’t believe anyone lived here. It is immaculate. Nothing out of place, not like at home where Aunt Shelia’s yarn is everywhere or where the fireplace is cluttered with Uncle Michael’s hunting stuff. While the B&B side is nice and tidy, our living quarters are well lived in.
Not like this.
This is too nice.
But then again, everything about Declan is always so put together. His car, his horse, his office, his home, and the way he acts around others. The only thing that isn’t is his hair, but he always keeps that hidden. While I like all of him, I like it better when he lets himself go and doesn’t worry one bit about the repercussions. Like when he almost fought Casey. I’ve never been so hot in my life. Or when he picked me up and kissed the stuffing out of me, his control slipping with every passing second. So fucking hot. It isn’t that I don’t think he is hot all put together, I do, I just prefer when he lets go. Thankfully, though, he seems more himself when it is just us and in a way, I like it like that. It’s like I get to keep all that part of him to myself.
I’m selfish like that, I guess.
As I lean into him, we head through the different corridors while Declan gives me the tour.
“The house is massive, as you can tell, but my family lives in the North Wing, which is eight rooms, twelve bathrooms, two dining rooms, a huge kitchen, and three studies. It also has my favorite part of the house.”
“Wow,” is all I can say as I take in every single detail of the house. I’m still blown away at how gorgeous everything is. “How many people work here?”
“On the whole ground? Over fifteen hundred, but that includes the distillery.”
“Good Lord.”
“Yeah, I live here with my ma, da, Lena, grandda, and grandma. I don’t see my grandparents much. They are traveling with my uncle and his family. I think they are in England right now. Lena usually goes with them, but she stayed home this year. When my da retires, he’ll travel more, too.”
“So then you’ll have the whole house to yourself? Or will you travel, too?”
He shakes his head. “Yeah, it will be all mine.”
“Wow. This is a lot of house for one guy.”
He bites into his lip as he nods his head. “Yeah, but by then I’ll be married.”
I looked up, my brow raised. “Oh.”
I have no clue why I just got jealous, but I am. It’s a horrible feeling, one that feels like it’s on fire in the middle of my chest. Biting into my lip hard, I push the feeling away as we reach a huge, white door.
“So this is what I wanted to show ya.”
Excitement takes over, and I bounce on my heels. I may have been nervous before, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t his room. For one, the door is as big as a car, and for another, he would have said this is my room, right? Shit! Letting go of my hand, he takes both handles in his hands and pushes the doors open. I swear, what I see brings tears to my eyes.
“Please, pinch me.”
Declan laughs as he shakes his head. “It’s real and my favorite place on the whole grounds, beside my room in the distillery.”
“Good God,” I mutter as I set inside. The sun warms me from above but I ignore it, because all I see is rows and rows of books. It’s a library, a huge, beautiful library. Huge, marble pillars hold up another floor of books, and there is seating everywhere. It’s like a book nerd’s Holy Grail. “It’s like the Beauty and the Beast movie.”
“That’s what Lena said when we were growing up.”
“Oh my God,” I say in complete awe. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
He comes up beside me, and I look up into his eyes. He smiles before saying, “I was thinking the same thing.”
My cheeks rush with heat as my heart completely blows up in my chest. It’s not lust. I mean, yeah, it’s there, but this is more. My heart may very well be his. Looking away shyly, he says, “I figured you’d love this as much as I do. I mean, the books in here date back to the early 1700s. Voltaire, James Joyce, Samuel Beckett, Oscar Wilde, W.B. Yeats, C.S. Lewis, Jonathan Swift, Daniel Defoe, loads of Jane Austin… I know your favorite.”
He must have seen my face light up. “Oh my God, Declan, I am in complete awe. This is amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it. Come on, let’s go check out the Jane Austin. I think I have a first edition Pride and Prejudice.”
I halt and throw my hands up in utter shock. “No way!”
“Yes,” he says, his eyes sparking as he reaches for my hand. “Go see for yourself.”
He does have it and when I touch it, a stray tear runs down my cheek. Like everything else in this damn house, it is impeccable, but I can see the wear where someone has read it. Along the front reads, Charleston, and I can’t believe I am holding this.
“Oh my God, I can’t wait to tell my mo—” I stop before the whole word leaves my mouth. My grip tightens on the book and I take in a sharp breath, trying to compose myself, but I can’t stop the tears from gathering in my eyes. Or falling as my heart feels like it is being ripped out of my chest. My mom would have loved this. She wouldn’t have believed me, but I won’t get that chance to tell her.