Daisy and the Duke

Daisy and the Duke - Part 4

Duke Ian Furchess is not a man who likes to be told what to do, but the mantle of responsibility has always lain on his shoulders. For the first time, however, a gorgeous American tourist with her own royal agenda might just tempt him to go too far...

Chapter Four

 

The man stood with one hand in his pants pocket, the other resting on the back of a carved chair. His fingers were long and masculine. He was cool, collected and remote. Neither a smile nor any sign of recognition marked his expressionless face. No indication at all that just minutes before he had coaxed her into breathless intimacy on a hilltop.

"I am," he said. "Ian Furchess. We don't stand much on ceremony these days, so you may call me Ian. Tell me, Ms. Wexler, what brings you to the Lake District?"

Her mouth hung open. Did he seriously think she didn't recognize him? The cognac-colored eyes were the same. The thick, wavy chestnut hair. Was she losing her mind? Perhaps this sophisticated nobleman was related to the fellow she'd met outside.

But no...it wasn't possible. She had kissed him passionately only moments ago.

Hadn't she?

"You were feeding pigs," she blurted out. "But you're a duke."

At last the hint of a smile lifted the corners of his beautiful mouth. "In case you haven't noticed, Ms. Wexler, we are having an extraordinarily lovely dose of early spring. Even dukes have been known to play hooky on such occasions." With complete calm, he sat down at the desk and rested his hands on the arms of the chair.

Forcing herself not to gape, Daisy backed up mentally. If this was how he chose to play their official encounter, she would go along with it. "Call me Daisy," she said firmly. As if he hadn't already. "I'm here on behalf of Victor and Vincent Wolff."

Ian's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure I follow."

"Surely you've heard of Wolff Enterprises."

"Indeed. They're a multinational corporation, well-respected even outside the States. But again, what does that have to do with me?"

"My employers are in their early seventies and semiretired. One of the younger Wolffs is at the helm of the organization now, and with more spare time on their hands, the two older men have taken up studying the family tree. Recently, they came across a document that suggests a connection with your ancestors. Obviously Victor and Vincent aren't interested in money. They have plenty of their own. But they are extremely invested in finding out whether or not their family has roots here, in the seat of the Wolffhamptons."

She took a deep breath and sat back, realizing that her palms were sweaty and her stomach churned from being so close to him. Ian appeared unruffled. Perhaps he dallied with wandering tourists frequently.

He picked up an expensive pen and rapped it lightly against the leather blotter. It was the first time she had seen him exhibit even a hint of agitation. "Why you, Daisy? Why did they send you?"