Page 24 of Scandal
I could think of a few adjectives to describe him at this very moment, and none of them are even remotely…nice.
I’ve seen Asher in a suit before. When he rescued me that night on the red carpet and posed for pictures, he had on a dark-blue suit that matched his eyes. Today, however, he’s in something a bit more refined.
And he still looks hot as fuck.
The heather gray still makes his eyes pop, but it’s the fitted vest that really does it for me. It makes him look so dapper that I can almost see him fitting into this world of regalia and tradition.
Almost.
“No kilt?” I say as we both grab our coats.
His lips quirk. “The Knights don’t have a family tartan—just a coat of arms. My ancestor, who was originally given this land and earldom, was English and a member of Queen Elizabeth’s court. He was sent here to keep the Scottish heathens from revolting against their monarch.”
“Is that why you don’t sound like the guy fromOutlander?”
He grins. “No, you can blame that on my pretentious boarding school and thirteen years in America. But if you need me to tell you what a bonnie lass you are,” he says, his accent growing thicker, “or apologize for my eejit father, just let me know.”
My cheeks heat as I laugh. “Okay.”
He offers me his arm. “Come on. We mustn’t be late.”
I decide not to make fun of him for using the word mustn’t and ask teasingly, “What will happen? Will we get in trouble?”
“No.” He smirks. “But it will cause them to be even more insufferable if you can believe that?”
I couldn’t, mostly because I had no idea what I was walking into. The two minutes I’d spent with Asher’s father this morning gave me a clue, but he hadn’t offered any more information about his parents since.
I also hadn’t asked.
We’d spend the day sort of politely orbiting around each other. He read and wrote a bit more in that mysterious notebook of his. I discovered he wears sexy little glasses when he reads. That definitely isn’t in his Wiki bio.
I called and checked in with my parents. Thankfully, they did not ask about the elephant in the room, either because they knew he was in it or because they trust me to see this through.
I’m not even sure if I trust myself to see this through.
Everything feels so…muddled.
I mean, what the hell was I actually thinking this morning? Telling his dad I was his girlfriend? It was so unlike me. I was literally shaking the whole time.
It was so spontaneous, and I never do anything spontaneous!
I can’t decide if I liked it or hated it.
I guess I’m about to find out, because thanks to that moment of insanity, I’m sitting in a Land Rover, on my way to Blackstone House for the first time to have a formal dinner with his parents.
“How are we going to pull this off, Asher?” I suddenly ask, feeling my nerves start to kick in. It’s the same feeling I would get right before every big exam or an important client came into the recording studio.
But this time, there are no notecards. No research or years of experience to fall back on. I am literally going into this situation blind.
“What do you mean?”
I look over at him incredulously. “I mean, your parents think we’re dating?—”
“Thanks to you.”
My brow lifts. “You didn’t correct me!”
He opens his mouth to argue, then decides against it. “You’re right. I didn’t. I should have, but I didn’t.”
