Page 136 of Scandal
“Okay,” I agree with a slight smirk.
“What?”
“Isn’t the man supposed to be the surly protector?”
“Oh, you are,” she replies with a smile. “But a woman is allowed to be just as protective. Especially when her man is plastered on the walls of millions of women worldwide.”
“Millions? That’s rather optimistic of you.”
“Is it?” She grins, then drags her nails down over my T-shirt. “Have you seen this body? I wouldn’t mind a poster of it hanging on my ceiling.”
“I’m fairly certain you did.”
“Sadly, my mom wouldn’t let me put mine on my ceiling.” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, and my dick instantly comes to life. “So I had to settle for the wall. But can you imagine what it would have been like to have you up there, just staring down at me?”
“Mercury…” I warn. “You’ve had a traumatic day.”
“Yes,” she acknowledges. “And I’m exhausted and emotional, and when I close my eyes later, I’ll probably sleep for a day. But right now, I just want to lose myself in you for a while. I want to remind myself that this is the reason I kept my cool in that room. This is why I didn’t fall apart. Because I had to make it back home. To you.”
“I’ll always be your home.”
And as we shed our clothes, letting the love we have for each other heal the hurt we endured today, I can’t help but be thankful for the consequences that brought her to me.
I never thought I’d be grateful for a…scandal.
EPILOGUE
Mercury
SIX MONTHS LATER
“Oh my god! Ohmygod!” I squeal, skipping down the hall with excitement. A maid sees me and steps aside, her lips pressed together in a clear effort to hide a grin. “Do you know where Asher is?”
Her eyes widen.
The staff hasn’t gotten used to our modern approach to titles in the household, or the lack of them.
“Oh, yes, miss. The earl was headed to your suite about an hour ago.”
“Thank you,” I say with a warm smile. “You can call him Asher if you want. And feel free to call me Mercury.”
She nervously swallows and then nods. “All right, miss—Mercury. My name is Deidre.”
“I know,” I reply, surprising her.
“You do?”
“Of course. You’ve been working at Blackstone House for three years. You’re twenty-seven?” I grimace, uncertain about that detail. She confirms with a laugh. “And your favorite thing from the kitchen is chocolate croissants.”
“How in the world?”
I shrug. “I make it my business to know our staff.” Then I grimace again. “Wow, that sounded incredibly stalkerish, didn’t it?”
“A bit, but I understand. It’s sweet.”
“I just want everyone to feel at home here.”
“I appreciate it, mi—Mercury.” She stumbles over my name again but corrects herself.
