Arthur dropped his hand and stepped back. By the time he opened the door, his shirt was still torn but his face had settled into the expression from the Forbes cover.
I followed him downstairs with the heat of his hand still on my jaw. His grandfather stood by the fireplace while a team of executives waited outside the study.
Victoria sat in the center of the foyer under a cashmere blanket, crying into a handkerchief.
Arthur did not look back at me.
“Take Miss Harper to the east wing,” he told David. “Get her a doctor and put PR on the line.” He turned to his grandfather. “Handle the board. I’ll deal with the press.”
Arthur gave orders to everyone except me. Minutes earlier, he had held my hand against his heart. Down here, I did not even rate an instruction.
The butler appeared at m
