She frowned. “You shouldn’t be working so hard, Alex.”
A shadow of irritation crossed his face. “It has to be done.”
“Harriet won’t forgive you if you fall asleep in her dinner.”
He held her eyes for a moment, then straightened and picked up his pen. “I’ll be fine.”
She paused. “You won’t forget, will you?”
“I’ll be there,” he said without looking up.
Aware she was being dismissed, she went up to the bedroom and took her time dressing in one of her own designs that was casual yet dressy enough for dinner. She was just putting the finishing touches to her makeup when she heard the splash of someone diving into the swimming pool outside.
Going to the side window, she looked down and saw Alex doing laps of the pool. He was magnificent as he sliced through the water, his broad shoulders tanned and toned, no doubt getting rid of pent-up energy.
And that was a good thing, she thought, tempted to stay and watch some more, but forcing herself to go down to the kitchen to check that everything was set with Harriet.
She was in the dining room, unnecessarily straightening the settings on the table, when Alex came into the room right on seven-thirty. Dressed in beige cargo pants and a blue shirt, he looked fresh and vital and more handsome than ten men put together.
His gaze slid over her white sleeveless dress flaring gently to her calves, a gold belt looping her waist. A glint of approval in his eyes made her stomach dip before he transferred his gaze to the flickering candelabra.
There was a slight lift of his brow. “Candles? It’s not even dark yet.”
She ignored his lack of romanticism. “I know, but it adds a nice touch, don’t you think?” She gestured with her hand. “Here. Sit down. The food’s all ready to be served from this trolley here.” It had hot and cold compartments.
“Harriet isn’t serving us?” he asked, coming forward and holding out a chair for her first, then sitting opposite her.
“No. She and Martin have gone into town to watch a movie.”
His lips twisted as he looked over the table. “At least we’ve convinced Harriet this is a real marriage.”
She blinked. “This wasn’t Harriet’s idea. It was mine.”
His glance sharpened. “I see.”
She squared her shoulders. “I wanted to apologize, Alex. For this morning. I didn’t know about Isabel being attacked.”
His eyes shuttered even more than usual. “I see Harriet’s been talking too much.”
She tilted her head. “That’s why you didn’t care about leaving the sandals on the beach. It reminds you of Isabel going back for the towel, doesn’t it?”#p#分页标题#e#
The line of his mouth tightened and his shoulders stiffened, but a second later he reached over and lifted the wine bottle out of the ice bucket. “I don’t like to analyze things,” he said in a nonchalant fashion that didn’t fool her one bit.
No, he wouldn’t, she thought, watching him as he poured her a glass of wine, then one for himself. “I’m surprised your father didn’t sell up after that.”
A muscle jerked in his jaw. “No, we love it here,” he said brusquely.
She nodded. This would be the one place they must all feel like a family, despite him not getting on with his father over the years. And for that reason it must be very special to Alex.
She took a sip of wine before saying, “Why didn’t you explain it to me? I would have understood. I wouldn’t have gone down there alone if I’d known.”
His gaze speared hers. “You trusted me enough to marry me, but perhaps you’ve got to learn to trust me in other ways.”
She winced, his remark taking the wind out of her sails. Placing her trust in someone wasn’t exactly the easiest thing for her to do. It was the hardest. She knew he understood where she was coming from but—
“Yes, I suppose that’s the next step,” she quietly agreed.
Just then the evening sun shone through the windows of the sunroom and caught the angles of Alex’s face, throwing part of it in shadow.
She realized something then. For all his talk about trust, he was the one keeping something of himself in the shadows. He hadn’t explained why he hadn’t told her about Isabel in the first place.
Trust worked both ways, didn’t it?
She opened her mouth to say all this to him, but another thought hit her. Or was this about something rather than trust? Was this more about him not sharing his emotions with her? His fears?
Yes, it was.
And as much as she hated to admit it, Alex’s attitude was a refreshing change when all the men in her life—her stepfathers, even Eric to a deceptive degree—had been the first to share their fears with her.