Say You Will(20)
He raised his brows. “She must be beautiful, then. When can I meet her?”
“Never,” he vowed devoutly.
“You love her,” Luca declared.
Love? He’d only just met her, and he was trying his hardest to avoid her.
But deep inside, he wondered if what he felt was the seed of love. Excitement, longing for her, needing to see her smile …
Pathetic.
And wonderful, even if it defied reason. He hadn’t done more than kiss her. “It’s complicated.”
Luca’s brow furrowed. “How complicated could it be? Propose to her. No woman is going to turn you down. Unless, of course, she meets me.”
Nick shook his head. “I’ve always admired your modesty.”
The Italian shrugged. “There’s much about me to admire.”
Nick tucked his phone away. “I can’t propose to her. She doesn’t know who I am.”
“It takes a lifetime to truly know a person.”
“No, she literally doesn’t know who I am.” He grimaced. “She thinks I’m a lawyer.”
“You’re not smart enough to be a lawyer.”
Nick eyed his companion. “When are you going back to Italy again?”
Luca smiled slyly. “Tell me more about this woman.”
“No.”
“She wants to see you,” he said with authority.
She did, but he couldn’t betray Summer, and he didn’t want to deceive Rosalind. It was a conundrum.
Luca put his arm around his shoulder. “There’s a simple solution to every problem, my friend.”
“What?”
“Sex. You take her to bed and the rest won’t matter.”
“It matters that she thinks I’m a different person than I was presented to her.” He shrugged the Italian off him. He didn’t feel right about misrepresenting himself to her.
“It’s not your CV that needs to be impressive, my friend. She’ll forgive the rest.”
“Would you, if you found out that the woman you loved had lied to you about who she was?”
Luca shrugged in his Italian way. “How much do I love her?”
Nick nodded. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
“Aren’t you going to find out?”
“Maybe.” He saluted Luca and went to pick Rosalind up.
She was pacing outside her family home on the sidewalk. She brightened visibly when he pulled up to the curb.
Hurrying to him, she hopped in his car and smiled at him with a combination of relief and happiness. “Thank you,” she said simply.
For a moment, Summer and her machinations faded in the background, and he was with the only woman he wanted to be with. “You wanted someplace interesting.”
She nodded as she strapped herself in. “Yes. And inspiring.”
“What sort of inspiration are we looking for?”
“Different tastes and textures for Sara’s wedding dress.”
He pressed his lips closed so he wouldn’t tell her not to bother working on it.
“I’m having tea with her in a couple days, and I wanted to have some ideas ready.” She angled toward him. “I hope you don’t mind.”
The only thing he minded was Summer’s deviousness. He’d talk to her again. In the meantime, he shook his head and gave Rosalind a reassuring smile. “I know exactly where to take you.”
“Good.” She ran her hands over the leather seats. “This is nice. What is it?”
“A Lotus.”
“Being a lawyer in London obviously pays off.”
He made a noncommittal sound, secretly vowing to kill Summer. Lotus was actually his largest sponsor—the car cost him practically nothing.
Zipping through traffic, they arrived across town in record time. They both got out of the car and met on the sidewalk. He gestured to the right. “This way.”
Rosalind took his arm and tugged him toward her to kiss him.
For a moment, he revelled in the feel of her lips on his. But he wasn’t going to do this, so he pulled away.
She grabbed his coat’s lapel and held him close, pressing her body against his as if she knew that’d paralyze him with pleasure.
It did, and then her kisses penetrated his common sense, heating him up to a slow, dangerous boil. Unable to help himself, knowing he may never allow himself another chance, he touched her face, her neck, her hair, wishing he could explore more of her.
He let his lips linger on hers before he lifted his head. “This was going to be nonsexual.”
She licked her lips. “I don’t see anything sexual happening.”
“Then you’re either lying or not paying attention.” He tipped his head to the left. “Inspiration awaits.”
“I was already feeling plenty inspired,” she mumbled, straightening her clothes.