Protect & Serve(89)

The young man was shocked, more by the bill than the request as he hurried off to settle out my account—the sole item being the bottle of wine that I again filled my glass from. I could take no more of this woman’s grandstanding and flouting of her impossibly high standards that I’d never reach.

“I believe this dinner if over, Denise,” I said with a sigh.

“Excuse me?” Denise hissed, her face a mask of utter incredulity. “You will not walk out on me! Not here, not in front of… of…” She gestured. “People!”

“I think that I will,” I said, looking her right in the eye as I took a long drink of my wine glass, draining the entire thing in one go. “In fact, I’d like to add something before I go.”

I stood up, holding up my empty glass, as if in a toast. “You are possibly the most horrific woman I have ever had the displeasure of sitting across a table from for so little a time—and I say this knowing my own stepmother. You are by far the most pretentious, self-important bint to have crossed my path. And I will be happy to see the back of you.”

“How dare you!” she screeched, and before I could even react I felt the cool splash of wine splattering across my face and down over my shirt. “Why, I never!”

Before I even had time to wipe my eyes free of the wine, I heard the sound of her chair being pushed back and the clicking of her heels on the hardwood floor. I couldn’t help but start to laugh. I was cursed to be this way forever, to constantly botch whatever date my sister set me up on.

Gwen is going to murder me, I thought as I wiped my face with a napkin, the waiter who’d only just been there moments before at my side, helping me get myself in order. Everything kept falling apart on every single one of these dates that my stepsister sent me on—none of them seemed right. The only person I ever felt at ease with ever since this whole fiasco started was Gwendolyn herself.

It’s ironic, I thought. I go to my sister, the matchmaker, to find a romantic connection, when all along it’s the matchmaker herself that I fall for.

I couldn’t stop laughing at the cosmic hilarity of it all, that fate would make the one person I’d always wanted the one person who I’d trust to help me find love for myself.

I stood up, brushing myself off and slipping the waiter another fifty pound note before I headed out to hail a taxi. I knew now what I needed—what I wanted more than anything… Nothing would suffice until I had it. I needed Gwendolyn.





15





Chapter 15





I had fallen asleep on my couch, waiting for word on how my stepbrother’s date had gone when I heard the knock on my front door. I sat bolt upright, my heart pounding as the noise rocketed me from my sleep and back into the waking world. My heart was pounding and between my legs I could still feel the glimmer of lust from the intensity of the dream itself. I’d been thinking of Tristan again, and in ways that I had tried not to since that night at the restaurant. But try as I might the lust I felt for him could not be denied, especially not by my subconscious mind.

Again the knocking came at my door, and I glanced curiously over at the digital clock underneath my television. Nine forty-six? Who in their right mind would come calling at this hour? I rose up from my couch and shuffled over to the door, wiping the sleep from my eyes before peering through the peephole.

“Tristan?” I asked through the door as I spied my brother standing on the other side. By the look on his face I could assume that the date had not gone well. I was prepared to be utterly furious as I undid the lock and pulled the door open. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You set me up with a complete snob,” he said, raising an eyebrow at me as though he expected some kind of apology.

“And how am I responsible for the way she behaves?” I asked, my voice rising, though I couldn’t help but yawn. I was still too tired to be completely angry just yet, but I’d settle for mildly annoyed. “I’m not her mother.”

“No, you’re supposed to be my matchmaker! And so far, the only match I’ve had is the one I can’t have,” he said, stepping past me into my apartment.

“Tristan, we can’t, and you know it!” I said, trying to force him back out, though I only succeeded in prompting him to close the door behind him. “We can’t!”

“But I want to!” he said, frustration clear in his voice as he paced like a caged animal. “Every time I’m with those women all I’m thinking of is you, Gwen! I can’t get you out of my mind. You’re all I think about anymore and I can’t stand not being near you. You’re what I’ve always wanted, Gwen.”