Chapter Five

“Who?” Kate asked. She’d called to see if everything was okay after the odd way the birthday celebration had ended. Tori had returned from the loo subdued and quiet and, shortly thereafter, departed for home complaining of a headache.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tori said, lying on her bed, tucked in but nowhere near calm enough to sleep.

“Hmm.” Kate didn’t say anything more, and the pause stretched. And stretched. Her friend, a barrister hoping soon to be promoted and take silk, was well versed in cross-examination techniques.

She knew what Kate was doing, had done it many times herself. Then again, she needed to figure out what mattered in her life before it was too late. So she let herself succumb to the pause.

“Okay, fine. It’s Ian King. I ran into him earlier at the Seven Stars, and he’s the most insufferable, egotistical man I’ve ever met.” Tori loosened her white-knuckle grip on her mobile phone before she broke it and explained to her friend what had been happening.

“He is an arrogant young thing, isn’t he?” Kate replied, amusement sounding in her tone. “I finally went up against him in court the other day. Blimey, what a gorgeous specimen of manhood, filling out his legal robe like a bodybuilder, and those eyes—blue topaz that could melt a woman on the spot. And those lips—”

“Enough! I concede your point. He’s easy on the eyes. But the guy is also a cocky arsehole.”

“Well, word is he’s a rising star, extremely capable and smart. I guess there’s a reason for his confidence,” replied Kate. “He’s a second son, you know.”

“Second son?”

“His dad is the Marquess of Staffordshire. So he holds the right to be styled Lord Ian King if he chose, but I understand he wants to succeed on his own merits.”

Unwanted respect for King surged through Tori. He didn’t share her humble background, but his hard work to make it on his own impressed her. “He may be modest about his parentage, but he sure seems comfortable flaunting his good looks to get attention.”

“I don’t think he flaunts it. Really. He’s just bloody gorgeous. Dogs’ bollocks! If I weren’t already married, I’d join the long line of women pursuing him, too.”

“Long line?” Tori asked, keeping her tone neutral.

“There are a great many court ladies who would gladly trade places with you right now, but he doesn’t seem to notice their constant flirting.”

“Whatever. He’s too young for me,” Tori replied, glad Kate couldn’t see the gratified smile spreading across her face.

“Tori…thou doth protest too much.”

“Nonsense. I have a perfectly nice companion already, and things are developing.”

“Hmm.” Again, Kate drew out the sound and let the conversation hang.

“Okay. Fine. I didn’t want to say it in front of Diana, given how she feels about Rupert. But I think there’s a chance we might settle down together.”

“Really? You’re getting married? To Rupert?”

“He hasn’t proposed or anything, but he’s made it pretty clear he wants me in his life. That visit to his estate last autumn felt almost like he was introducing me to his staff for a purpose. And we spend more and more time with his teenage sons when they’re not with their mum.”

“Wow! You’re going to be a baroness.”

“That doesn’t matter to me. Well, okay, it does sound like fun. But what I really want is to have a family and someone permanent in my life who truly cares for me. And for all his hoity-toity faults, Rupert does care for me. I just wish sometimes he didn’t put me on such a high pedestal.”

“Diana said he wants you to be his perfect princess. But maybe it’s just that he already thinks of you as perfect. And that’s a nice thing.”

“I suppose you’re right. But being treated like a princess in bed is not all that exciting. Not that it should matter at my age.”

“You’re only—”

“Forget I said that. I’m just too picky. Did I tell you he showed me the family heirlooms at Bridlington Castle? There’s this gorgeous emerald tiara, a gift from King George II, if you can believe it. That doesn’t affect how I feel about him, of course, but his showing it to me seemed important. I think, maybe, I’ve found my forever with him.”

“That’s beautiful, and if he meets your needs and makes you happy, that’s what matters.”

After hanging up, she set her mobile on the nightstand, turned off the light, and lay there in the dark.

Did Rupert meet her needs? All of them?

Unlike her two friends, Tori didn’t come from wealth and prestige. Her working-class parents, still living in Reading, had provided a solid if modest upbringing that focused on the importance of getting an education. Her intense personal drive had made the most of her basic public schooling, earning top A-level scores and, more important, a place and a privately-funded scholarship to study law at Oxford, where she worked even harder.

In some respects, she had less in common with Rupert than with the young barrister. They were both hardworking and driven to excel. Like her, he must have graduated with top honors, because he’d completed his pupilage at a prominent set of law chambers, second in prestige only to hers.

Stop it! Stop thinking about him. Ian King is not part of your life.

And if he became a part of her life, that could ruin her career. Nothing good could come of having a dangerous liaison with him. Not after how hard she’d worked to get to the top.

Her tireless work ethic had propelled her quickly through the ranks, first as a junior barrister in plain black cloth robes, then as she took silk ahead of her peers—thanks to a splashy high-profile case she’d won—and later as a young judge in a lower court. Having catapulted ahead of her classmates, she’d now achieved her dream, the pinnacle of success in the High Court of the Royal Courts of Justice. The youngest appointee ever.

“My career matters,” she told herself firmly. “Not flirting with a guy who only wants to get inside my knickers.” She giggled. “Maybe I should get a cat if I’m going to start talking to myself. Then, at least, I can pretend somebody’s listening.”

An image of Ian’s sexy mouth grinning up at her filled her mind.

Her eyes snapped open. “Argh! Stop thinking about Ian! And stop calling him Ian. You don’t even know him.”

A sigh escaped her. If Rupert had been in town, she’d have eagerly engaged in the boring sex he provided and been grateful for it, too. That would have been enough for her…before Ian had made her amorphous yearnings for more into something tangible and impossible to ignore any longer.

She snorted, realizing that earlier, when fighting her desire to accept his invitation, she hadn’t remembered she already had a boyfriend. Rupert hadn’t surfaced in her thoughts, not even once.

She didn’t want to think about why—because if she did, it would mean she’d actually have to deal with her discontent.

And then she might find herself truly alone.