The Vessel - Jenika Snow Page 0,1

it, wished that had been in my cards. My father had been a cold, heartless bastard. He might have engrained some of that apathetic nature in me through learned behavior, but the truth was, I’d love to have children, a wife who I loved, and the whole “dream” of being a family man.

So my options were pretty black-and-white.

Knock up a female to get that heir in twelve months.

Or kiss the Blacksmith legacy goodbye.

2

Elise

“No, no, no.”

I clenched my teeth and refrained from snapping back at Merla, the “head housekeeper” for Lucius Blacksmith, which I knew she gave herself the title because there were no tiered employees working for the man. It wasn’t like she got a raise by calling herself that, so I thought she was just a crusty old woman who was stuck in her way and wanted to make everyone follow her lead.

But she’d been here the longest, knew damn near everything, right down to how Mr. Blacksmith liked his coffee and at what time in the mornings, so everybody respected her and just fell in line. And I didn’t want to ruffle feathers, so I did what I was told.

I might not have bene here for very long in the grand scheme of things, but I was professional at every avenue, but I really didn’t like someone berating me, even bitching about the way I polished the mahogany fireplace mantle.

I kept my mouth shut and just continued polishing. Merla was working behind me as we tag teamed Mr. Blacksmith’s study.

When I first worked here and saw this room, it was instantly my favorite. Three out of four of the walls were nothing but built-in bookshelves, paperbacks and hardbacks lining the massive solid wood shelving. I’d always been an avid reader, and being here was like I’d fallen into the rabbit hole as if I were Alice. I didn’t even care that almost all the books were about law or similar topics. I was just transfixed by it all.

I looked over my shoulder even as I continued polishing the mantle. Merla was busy working on the coffee table, her polishing meticulous. I had to give her credit, because she was damn good at what she did.

I glanced over at the bookshelves again, my secret love. More times than not, I thought about sneaking in here, grabbing one of the few non-law books, and sinking into the massive, distressed, brown leather loveseat that sat in front of the fireplace. I imagined curling up and letting the heat from the fire warm me on the outside, while a good book did the same on the inside.

When I saw Merla start to move away from the table, I quickly turned back around and focused on the mantle.

Once we were finished with the office, we made our way to the next room. Lucius Blacksmith’s home was massive at three levels and a square footage that was no doubt in the five digits.

Why did one man need so much room? He wasn’t married, had no children, and I’d never seen or heard of him with female companionship. He certainly never brought anyone back to the house, at least not when I was working. Maybe this was a family home? I only knew the bare basics of him from the staff, and of course the little I could find online. There was loads on the internet about his business life, but his personal side was almost non-existent.

But what everyone kept saying, what I kept reading, was that Lucius Blacksmith was one of the hottest, most eligible bachelors. And yeah, he really was.

I moved around the living room and started going to work there, and about twenty minutes later, I heard Mr. Blacksmith enter through the massive double front doors. I could hear his no doubt shined, expensive leather loafers padding over the granite foyer. His routine was always the same when he came home.

He set his large, heavy-looking suitcase by the door, the one that had his name embossed on the side, the lock at the top always gleaming gold as if he just polished it.

He hung up his suit jacket on the hook by the door then made his way into the kitchen, where I knew he poured himself a glass of scotch.

I made my way out of the living room with the small bucket of cleaning supplies. I lifted it up and pointed to the empty spray bottle, the natural concoction I personally mixed, a formula my grandmother taught my mom and my