Chapter 240: Deceptively easy nature
Trevor left the archive room without a backward glance, moving with the unhurried composure of a man who had already decided exactly how this day was going to end, and for whom.
Every step toward his office was carefully planned, carrying the calm weight of someone whose patience had been tested one time too many. Vivienne’s persistence had been an irritation before, a nuisance he could swat away while still entertaining himself with her audacity. But now, now it joined the same category as Christian’s posturing and the clergy’s quiet, sanctimonious meddling. That category had a very short lifespan.
Patience? Nonexistent.
Mercy? Unlikely.
The west wing’s polished floors reflected the easy set of his shoulders, the kind of posture that would fool anyone into thinking he was in a good mood, unless they looked too closely at the eyes. Those, Windstone had once remarked, were where the temperature dropped.
He passed Lucas’s office on the way. The door stood open, a faint trace of familiar pheromones clinging stubbornly to the air despite the wide windows. Inside, Windstone was orchestrating the quiet chaos of a crime scene cleanup, his voice carrying instructions to two junior staff who were attempting to salvage what remained of the antique couch.
"Dispose of it," Windstone said finally, in the same tone one might use to issue a military order. "No amount of reupholstering will erase what was done to it."
One of the staff glanced at Trevor, froze for a heartbeat too long, and then busied themselves with hauling the ruined relic toward the service lift.
Windstone, catching the direction of Trevor’s gaze, merely inclined his head. "The Grand Duchess’s office will be serviceable again within the hour. The scent, however, may linger until next spring."
Trevor’s mouth curved faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Let it. Consider it a warning."