Say You Will(17)
“Well.” She blinked, her face flushing. “Then we don’t have a problem since I feel the same about you.”
They did have a problem: Summer.
“I’m glad I’m designing Sara’s dress,” she said as if on the same wavelength. “Not just because it gives me a chance to seduce you, but also because I like her.”
His groin stirred, but he ruthlessly shut down his non-thinking head. He needed to maneuver the conversation toward something that wasn’t sexy in any way. “I never knew wedding dresses were such complicated things.”
“Of course you didn’t. You’re a man.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “Very much a man.”
He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t give in and touch her. “So tell me about your wedding dress.”
“Is it that obvious I have it designed?”
“Not obvious, but you’d have thought about it.”
“You must think I’m silly.”
“You don’t care what I think, but you’d be wrong. It’s sweet. It’s romantic and optimistic and says you believe you’ll find someone worthy of it.” Someone who wasn’t him—and that thought made him want to howl.
“I will,” she said as they stopped at an intersection. “I don’t think love is selective, picking some people over others. We dictate our own lives. We get what we believe we deserve.”
“Always?”
“Always. If we don’t have what we want, we can change it, can’t we? And if we don’t, that’s our own decision to settle.”
“You’d never settle.”
“I want love, but I’m not in a hurry for it.” She studied him. “And you and love?”
“I want it.” He wanted her. “I want a family and all the trappings. Somewhere to belong. Permanence.”
“Is there such a thing as permanence?”
“Even if I were struck down tomorrow, one day of having family would be worth it.”
“I feel ashamed,” she said as they resumed walking. “I have a family, but I’ve always tried to get away from them.”
“You’re here now.” Thinking of Summer, he added, “You can reconnect if you want to.”
“I might do that.”
“Good. Family is important.”
They reached the entrance to the underground, and she turned to face him. She seemed to be considering what to say. Then she shook her head, put her hand on his chest for balance, and kissed him with bone-melting enthusiasm.
Before he could react, she broke away. “We’re going to do this again, and more.”
“That’s not wise,” he managed to say.
“But it’s inevitable.” She kissed him again, this time slowly exploring, letting the heat buildup.
Inevitable was a good word for this. Maybe also inescapable, perhaps even unavoidable. Maybe unstoppable was the best description though, because he felt powerless against it.
She was the one to pull away first. She touched his lips, and then turned and walked into the tube station. At the entrance, she flashed him a grin that promised all things sinful.
He wanted every single one, too.
He was royally screwed.
Chapter Eight
“Why is Father’s study locked?” Rosalind said as she strode into the kitchen.
“The study is locked?” Fran asked with a frown, turning around from the sink.
She nodded, looking at Portia, who hadn’t even glanced up from the magazine she was perusing. Shaking her head, Rosalind returned her attention to Fran. “Do you have a spare key?”
“Of course, I do, lamb. Right here.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a humongous ring with dozens of keys attached. She flipped through them, one by one. Her mouth puckered, and then she started back at the beginning and went through them again. “It’s not here. Where could it have gone?”
Hands on her hips, Rosalind faced her sister. “Portia, do you have any guesses where the key to Father’s office went?”
“I took it,” she replied, flipping a page.
“Why?”
“So you can’t go through Father’s things without me. I don’t want you to throw away anything without my approval.” She closed the magazine and stood, taking her teacup to the sink. “I’m ready to go now.”
Rosalind sighed.
Fran gave her a look that said play nicely. Before turning around to finish the dishes.
“Well, Rosalind?” Her sister propped her hands on her hips. “I don’t have all day.”
She wanted to point out that, yes, Portia did have all day. As far as Rosalind knew, Portia didn’t do anything but work with some of the charities the Summerhills had been associated with forever. But in the interest of their temporary détente, she kept her thoughts to herself and followed Portia to the study.