The Price of Winning: London Calling Book Four Read Free Page B

“Sebastian, I can take care of myself.” She called him by his full name when she was serious. It reminded him so much of his mother, who was also a poised and elegant woman. In some ways, he supposed Angeline was a friendly substitute for his real mum who lived in happy indolence in France with his father.  
    But he continued to worry that someone might slip through security when Angeline least expected it. He considered her one of his responsibilities even though she’d hate the very idea.
    “Sebastian, you can stop hovering outside the door. I know you’re here.”  
    Her voice, slightly raised, startled him out of his thoughts. He pushed open the kitchen door. Angeline sat at a small breakfast table near a bay window. Her long chestnut hair was piled up in a messy knot and she wore noise-canceling headphones, which were plugged into a laptop. She folded her hands in front of her as he strolled into the room.
    “How did you know? Especially with the headphones on?” He didn’t give her time to answer. “You shouldn’t wear those. Someone could sneak up on you, and you’d never hear them.”
    A smile barely tilted one side of her mouth. “Like you did?”
    He shrugged, a little impatient with her. “You know what I mean.” He looked around the kitchen, spying a French press. Waving a hand toward it, he asked, “May I?”
    Her full lips moved into a grin. “Bas, it’s your kitchen.”  
    He frowned slightly.  
    “Have some coffee,” she amended. A tiny line creased her forehead.  
    Before she could speak, Sebastian poured his cup full and lifted it to his lips. He took a deep swallow then abruptly lowered the mug. “What the hell is in this?”
    “Chicory.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Feeling nostalgic?”
    “Actually—” she began. They were interrupted by the buzzer indicating someone at the gates outside.  
    Sebastian moved to the wall where a security device allowed him to see visitors. It was the same device he’d first seen and used at Madeleine Price’s penthouse in Chicago. He could testify to its effectiveness. He’d had monitors installed in nearly every room of the estate.  
    Sebastian pressed a button and Dominic Martin’s face filled the small screen.
    “What are you doing here?” Sebastian rarely tempered his tone, and especially not with Martin. They’d formed an uneasy truce over the past months but hardly a friendship.
    “I’m glad to see you too, sweetheart.”  
    Sebastian gritted his teeth. The other man was an invariable smartass. Before he could reply, Dominic continued.
    “Let me in, Payne. Otherwise, I’ll come anyway and set off all those beautiful alarms I installed for you.”
    Angeline silently sidled up to Sebastian. He glanced over as she delicately pushed an elbow into his side. “Please, boys. Allow me.”
    He moved and Angeline faced the monitor. “Good morning, Dom. You’re right on time.” She pressed the button that opened the gates. “Come on in. I have croissants.”
    Sebastian saw Dominic flash a lightning grin before the video clicked off. He eyed Angeline. “You invited Martin.” It wasn’t a question. Sebastian hated the wasted energy of asking about things with obvious answers.  
    Angeline’s eyes flickered. “Yes.” She offered no apology. “I deemed it appropriate for our discussion.”
    She sounded firm, unrepentant. Sebastian was a man who’d grown up with the privilege of money and inherent authority. Rarely did he encounter an individual with a will as strong as his own. But Angeline Dubois Sinclair trumped him in spades.  
    He nodded, bowing his head slightly. “As you wish.”
    She walked to the kitchen cupboards, removing plates, napkins, and cutlery. She took down a cup and poured another coffee, then added a dollop of cream. Waving a hand, she indicated Sebastian to come over. “Sebastian, please set the table.”  
    He felt like he was eight years old again. Except no one had expected him to set a table, or do