There was only one place for her to go.
She walked the whole way to Nick’s house. Through the south side of Hyde Park, by Harrods and its elaborate Christmas displays, and through the quaint side streets of Kensington.
It was late when she rang the buzzer. The house was dark, and she wasn’t sure he was home.
But then the lights came on and the door swung open.
“Rosalind.” His face lit just as brightly as the entrance. But then he must have registered her expression because his enthusiasm dimmed. And then he winced, saying, “You know.”
She stepped back, her hand over her heart, feeling it crack. Until that moment, she’d hoped they’d been wrong, or that Nick hadn’t been aware of anything. “Why did you lie to me?”
He started to reach out to her, but he stopped short and stuck his hands in his pockets “I’m not going to be an ass and say I didn’t lie, because I did. I didn’t want to, but I’d promised Summer.”
“Summer Welles,” she said repeated with a shiver. “Not Sara.”
“Bloody hell.” He ran a hand over his neck and then held it out. “At least come in out of the cold while I explain.”
“You can explain all you want, but I doubt I’ll understand.” She woodenly stepped inside the doorway and let him close out the night.
“Summer Welles is my half-sister, by your father. Her mother raised me after my father died. Summer is, for all intents and purposes, my sister, and I promised Tabitha I’d keep an eye on her.”
“Keeping on eye on her seems like it’d preclude having her lie about her identity.” She stubbornly swallowed the tears that sprang into her eyes. “Is your name really Nick?”
“Yes.” He took her arms, looking into her eyes. “My name is Nick Long. I’m not a lawyer though, I’m a Formula One race car driver. Everything you know about me is true, except for that one thing Summer made up.”
She shook her head, feeling like she’d been sideswiped. “Why would she do that?”
His inner debate was written on his face, but she saw the moment he decided being truthful to her was more important than his promise to Summer. “She was concerned about the will,” he admitted.
“The will.” Because if her father had changed it and left everything to the other woman, Summer would receive it.
“Rosalind—”
Shaking her head, she pulled out of his arms. “I know what you’re going to say. You did it because you love Summer and you didn’t know me before, but now things are different.”
“They are different.”
“Bullshit, as my best friend would say.” She shook her head. “You knew what you were doing, and that it was wrong, and you still did it.”
He nodded. “All that’s true.”
“You’d do it again.”
He paused, and then he nodded again. “You’re right. I would, because I love Summer. She’s my sister. Even when I want to strangle her it doesn’t change that I’d protect her.”
Rosalind wilted into herself.
“But, Rosalind”—he took her by the arms—”wouldn’t you do idiotic things for your sisters?”
At one time, she’d have said no, but it was different now. She’d broken into a house for them, and she knew that if they needed anything she’d be there for them.
Nick leaned down, looking into her eyes. “I made a mistake, and I’m sincerely, direly sorry. But maybe I can explain.”
“How?” She shook her head. “What can you possibly say that’ll make it better?”
“Will you stay and listen?”
She should have turned away—she knew better than to look into his eyes. But her heart made her nod, even though logically she knew there was nothing he could say that’d take away the pain of being deceived.
Chapter Twenty-six
Nick watched Rosalind fold her arms, waiting for him to start. He knew he had this one shot to make her understand, or else she wouldn’t be able to forgive him.
He raked a hand through his hair, walking back and forth in front of her, not sure where to start.
From the beginning, he decided. He faced her. “My mother left my dad the week after I was born.”
Her gaze sharpened, obviously not expecting that.
“They weren’t married, and she was really young. My father’s family was well-off and disapproving of her. I understand why she’d have run away.
“When I was three, my father met Tabitha Welles.”
He saw Rosalind stiffen. He couldn’t blame her, given the circumstances, but it made him sad because Tabitha, though misguided in her decisions, had been a warm, loving woman. “Tabitha used to say that she fell in love with me before my father. They’d been planning to get married when my father had a heart attack and died. He was only thirty-three.”