There would be another man to love someday, she told herself as she turned off her bedside lamp.
Then she lay there in the dark, alone, denying herself the luxury of tears.
Eleven
A s director of sales for Snap, the celebrity-watcher magazine of the EPH empire, Cullen Elliott had worked closely with John for several years. Almost the same age, they also had a friendship unrelated to the business, having known each other longer than John had known Summer and Scarlet. The men golfed together. Challenged each other. Wagered with each other, too. John liked Cullen and was glad the friendship hadn't been strained when the engagement ended.
"I can't believe you beat me by thirteen strokes," Cullen muttered as they rode the elevator to John's apartment late Saturday afternoon after a long day golfing. "How long has it been since you played?"
John smiled leisurely. "I told you. The last time you and I played. October, I think."
"You didn't squeeze in a round or two while you were in L.A. last month?"
"Nope. But conditions weren't the best today."
"Don't be condescending."
John grinned as they exited the elevator and walked down the hall. Usually a prankster, Cullen had seemed to be forcing jokes all day, so John hesitated before he spoke again, not knowing whether he should discuss what he'd observed.
"You did seem off your game," he said finally. "And distracted. Woman trouble?"
"Women," Cullen scoffed. "Sometimes I wonder if they're worth the effort."
"Amen."
"Although I don't ever question it when I'm in bed with one."
John laughed. As he opened the door, an incredible scent rushed at him. Garlic. Basil. Something Italian.
Cullen sniffed the air, making appreciative sounds. "I hope I'm staying for dinner."
Scarlet must be there.
"Sorry, Cullen," John said, upping his normal volume. "Private party."
He heard a soft scampering sound and talked over it, hoping Cullen hadn't noticed. "I'll get that book you wanted."
"Don't I get to meet the chef?"
"I'll check." He walked into the kitchen and looked around. A pot of red sauce simmered on the stove, the source of the mouthwatering aroma. A salad was half prepared. And a pair of spiky black heels lay jumbled on the floor.
He heard a noise from the pantry and headed there, opened the door-
"What are you doing with my cousin?" Scarlet asked in a fierce whisper.
She was wearing a French maid's costume.
John's shock instantly became laughter.
"It isn't funny," she said through clenched teeth.
"From my vantage point it is." He grabbed and kissed her. "I'll get rid of him. Cool your jets, sweetheart."
He shut the pantry door in her face.
"She left a note. Went to the store," John said to Cullen as he passed through the living room on his way to his office. He grabbed a book from his desk. "Here you go. No hurry getting it back to me."
"Feels like someone's shoving a boot against my ass," Cullen said with a grin, heading to the front door.
"What can I say?" The maid costume stayed emblazoned in his mind. The short, short skirt, revealing long, gorgeous legs in fishnet stockings. The low-cut, lace-edged top, exposing inviting mounds he wanted to bury his face in. He could untie her frilly white apron, strip her to whatever fancy lingerie she wore under-
"I'm glad to see you've moved on, you know, since Summer."
John came to attention. "I've become a fatalist."
"Everything happens for a reason?"
"Something like that."
Cullen stared out the window for a few seconds. "Have you stopped loving her?"
I don't think I ever did love her. He didn't say the words aloud, but their truth hit him like a thousand-watt lightbulb. "As you said, I've moved on."
"Mind over matter?"
The way Cullen pushed the conversation, John recognized there was something going on with him. "You need to talk, Cullen?" They couldn't now, not with Scarlet trapped in the pantry, but … "We could get together for drinks one day this week."
"Maybe. I'll give you a call." He left.
John returned to the kitchen and opened the pantry door. "Your master awaits."
She eyed him coolly. "My master?"
"If you're the maid, that makes me the master, right?" John admired her in full light. He'd never known a woman with so many dimensions. And he'd never known one so playful, so willing to get into a role just for the fun of it.
He was tempted now to untie the lacy cap on her head and let her hair down. He reached for the dangling ribbons-
"Why didn't you tell me you were golfing with Cullen?"
He lowered his arm, stuffed his hands into his pockets. Obviously she wasn't into her role yet. "I didn't want to wake you this morning. You looked so peaceful."
"You could've told me last night before we went to sleep."
"I could've."
"But?"
"My relationship with Cullen is separate. I don't relate him with your family, even though he is. Why didn't you tell me you were coming over early tonight?"
"I didn't know until after you left your message on my cell, saying to keep the night open for you." She shrugged. "And I wanted to surprise you."
"Which you did." He trailed his fingers down her face, gently, caressingly. "Can I go out and come back in? Start over?"
"First you have to put on your costume."
"Costume?" He hadn't minded the other games, but he'd never had to wear a costume before, either.
"It's on your bed."
"What exactly am I?"
"You're a nineteenth-century duke visiting my master."
"Did I time-travel forward or did you time-travel back?" he asked, pointing to her modern costume.
She ignored his question. "Do you know how men of your stature were treated in the merry old days?"
"With more respect than today?"
His comment earned him raised eyebrows instead of a laugh, then she hooked a finger behind his belt and pulled him toward her. "When a titled man visited, the lady of the house was often sent to assist him in bathing."
"I was born in the wrong century."
Her smile was slow and sultry. "When there wasn't a lady of the house, often a maid was sent."
No joke came to mind. "You're going to … bathe me?"
She dragged his shirt from his waistband and slid her hands up his chest. "I'm going to feed you, then undress you, then bathe you, then have my way with you. And you have to promise not to tell my master, or I could lose my position."
He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feathery touch of her fingers against his skin, although he was more than a little stunned that she had willingly assumed such a subservient role. Another layer of her. Another fascinating layer.
"I think you should go change now, your grace," she whispered. "You can wait in the parlor. I'll bring you some ale to sip while I finish supper."
He'd rather hang out in the kitchen with her, but he acknowledged that anticipation was an appealing part of the game. He expected to stay aroused until she chose to do something about it.
He just hoped his costume wasn't too dorky.
The following Friday, Cade McMann, Charisma's executive editor, stepped into Scarlet's cubicle just as she was about to head to a meeting. Noting Cade's distant expression, she said nothing, especially since he'd come to her. Usually he summoned her to his office.
"You seem to have more influence with Fin than anyone," he said in a low, brusque voice.
"As her niece, not as her employee."
"I don't care which role you assume-whatever works, as far as I'm concerned-but she slept in her office again last night. Obviously I want her to win the contest as much as she does. I stand to win, too. But there's no reason for her to sacrifice everything to it. Someone has to convince her of that."
"If you can't settle her down, Cade, I don't think anyone can."
"I've tried. Short of sending an armed escort to her office to take her home each night, there's nothing I can do. She's the boss. But I'm worried about her."
"So am I." She tapped a finger to her lips. "Maybe I should talk to Uncle Shane."
"They may be twins, Scarlet, but they are in competition."
He was right. "Back to square one."
"Just talk to her, please. Better yet, kidnap her for the weekend. Take her to a spa."
This would be her last weekend with John. Summer would be home on Monday. "I can't this weekend, but I'll try to arrange it for the following one."
"Good. Thanks." He turned to leave and bumped into Jessie.