Bedroom Diplomacy(55)

Which only punctuated his feelings about the significant person he had lost. And if he let himself think about, if he acknowledged the gaping hole in his chest, he feared it would swallow him whole. And while London was the last place he wanted to be, he stayed there, round-the-clock, for Matty. They were gathered there, around their mother’s bed, as she took her last shallow breath. Then she was gone. The woman who had given birth to him, but had never wanted—or even known—him. And he could only feel sad for what they might have had, but never did. That neither of them had ever really tried.

The day after the funeral he and Matty took a short walk through the drizzling rain in the park outside her flat and found an unoccupied, reasonably dry bench under a canopy of trees.

“I have to leave, Matty.”

“Why?” she said, looking sad and lonely and old, and it broke his heart. It also made him realize that he didn’t want to wind up like her.

“I still have work to do in Washington.”

“Can’t someone else do it? Why can’t you just stay here in London with me? With Mother gone, who will I take care of?”

That was a lousy reason for him to stay. After only a few days with her, he’d practically gone wonky. She was so needy and clingy. What she really needed was a life of her own.

“Have you ever thought that if you went out every once in a while you might meet someone?”

She shook her head and laughed nervously, as if it were a ridiculous notion. “I’m too old for that.”

“You are not that old. And I know it’s scary. But you just have to put yourself out there, Matty.”

“When are you coming back home?”

Home to her was London. He, on the other hand, had spent the past ten years in constant flux. Home was wherever he happened to be living at any given time.

This was the first time in his adult life that he’d even considered laying down roots. And when he thought about where home would be, he could only think of Rowena. And he realized that it wasn’t about where he lived. Whether it be London or Washington or Los Angeles. Rowena was home to him.

“There’s been a slight change of plans,” he told her. “I’m going to be staying in the U.S.”

She gasped, her hand rising up to cover her breaking heart. “Are you in trouble?”

“Yes and no. I’m in love.” The words fell so effortlessly from his lips, he knew they had to be true. He loved Rowena.

“With an American?”

“Yes, she’s American. She lives in California.”

“Who is it?”

“The senator’s daughter, Rowena.”

Another gasp. “But…Colin…you barely know her.”

“I don’t expect you to understand. Hell, I don’t even know how it happened, but I do wish that you’ll be happy for me.”

“Of course I’m happy. It’s just that…well, the accident wasn’t that long ago. You’re still healing. Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

In other words, she wasn’t happy for him. But she would likely frown upon any life decision he made that didn’t directly involve her. She wanted him for herself.

It wasn’t his fault that she’d built her entire world around taking care of him, seeing that he wasn’t scarred by their parents’ lack of interest in anything he did. And he couldn’t sacrifice his own happiness to fill the void in her life that single-mindedness had created. Not that he didn’t appreciate it. But he would only end up resenting her, and then neither of them would be happy. “I’ve thought it through, and this is what I want.”

“So it’s serious?”

“Serious enough that I plan to ask her to marry me.”

She sucked in a breath. “When?”

“Soon.” He just needed to find her first.

“But is that what she wants, too? What if you ask and she says no?”

“Then I’ll ask again. And again. I’ll keep asking until she says yes.”

“You always were stubborn. When you decided that you wanted something, it was impossible to change your mind. Like that dreadful motorbike you bought when you were only fourteen.”

She made it sound as if he were bolting around town on a Harley. “Matty, it was a scooter. It barely reached fifty kilometers per hour. I was hardly in any danger. Not everyone prefers to jaunt around in a chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce.”

“I guess it’s too much to hope that this woman might have even a drop of noble blood running through her veins.”

He laughed. Of all the things he could look for in a woman, her ancestry didn’t even make the top fifty in terms of importance. “None that I’m aware of.”