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Rafe.
She wished he were there. With him at the table, Brooke and Fiona wouldn’t dare go too far.
And then she felt like a spineless nothing, a total wimp, longing for her husband at her side to protect her.
Eloise laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. Genny glanced up into those wise blue eyes. “Thanks,” she said to Brooke and Fiona. “But I’m a little tired tonight.” She pushed back her chair and stood.
“Fine.” Brooke put on her sulky face. “Be that way.”
Genny went on smiling. “Good night. Brooke, good to have you home. So nice to see you, Fiona.”
The two nodded and smirked—and Brooke poured them more wine.
* * *
Genny had a long bath, put on her most comfortable nightgown and a comfy dressing gown over it and then watched television in the sitting room of the suite for a while.
By eleven, she still felt edgy and wide-awake. She missed Rafe, missed him terribly. Which was pretty absurd. He’d been gone just fourteen hours.
She had tonight and Tuesday night to get through without him. Her body ached for him. It was the strangest thing. It had been the same after their four-day fling or affair or whatever it could be called, in March.
Like withdrawing from some addictive drug, to be without him. Without his big hands caressing her, his broad, hard body curved around her when she fell asleep...
She let her head fall to the sofa back and stared up at the intricate plaster moldings in the ceiling. Yes, the bed would feel lonely without him. But at some point, she would to have to crawl between the covers and try to get some sleep.
Might as well get going on that now. She dragged herself to her feet.
And someone tapped on the outer door.
A prickle of alarm sent a shiver down her back. What possible good could come of someone knocking on her door at this hour?
The tap came again.
Rafe? Her heart grew lighter in her chest.
But no. He wouldn’t knock on the door to his own rooms.
Genny gave up trying to guess who it might be and went to find out.
“Well,” said Fiona on a blast of winey breath. “All ready for beddy-bye, I see.” Brooke’s friend had her right arm braced on the door frame and a woozy look on her pretty face. She wore the same yellow sleeveless dress she’d worn at dinner, and her peep-toe Manolo Blahniks dangled from the fingers of her left hand. Clearly, a lot more wine had been consumed since Genny and Eloise had left the table. “May I come in?”
Whatever for? Genny couldn’t remember ever having had a private conversation with Brooke’s friend. “You know, Fiona, it’s late and I was just—”
“A little chat, that’s all, just you an’ me.” Fiona peeled herself off the door frame. “I won’t stay long, promise. Only a minute or two...”
It was either shove her backward and slam the door in her face—or go along. For now. Genny waved her in.
“Super.” Fiona dodged around her and headed for the sofa, plunking down on it with a huffing sound and dropping her yellow shoes to the rug. She lifted both arms and spread them wide along the sofa back. “I understand congratulations are in order.” There was definite smirking. “A baby. How nice.”
“Thank you.” Genny took one of the wing chairs. She wasn’t the least surprised that Fiona knew. No way Brooke could have resisted the temptation to tell her—especially not after the two of them had poured down large amounts of wine. “Rafe and I are very excited.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure you are.” Fiona listed to the left a bit, but then righted herself once more. “When are you due—if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Not at all,” Genny sweetly lied. “December 20.”
“Ah. A Christmas baby.”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t those good luck?”
“Christmas babies, you mean?”
“Yes.” Fiona blinked several times in rapid succession, apparently trying to focus. “I’m sure I heard once that...um...” The sentence wandered off unfinished.
This was getting a little scary. “Fiona, let me help you to your room.” Genny started to stand.
“In a minute, Yer Highness.” Fiona stared at her through narrowed eyes—because her vision was blurry or as a drunken attempt at a glare, Genny couldn’t tell which. “I have...things which I need to say to you.”
Genny slowly lowered herself back into the chair. Fiona looked pretty bad. Was she going to pass out? She needed to be in her own room before that happened. “Fiona, I think it’s time you let me help you to your—”
“A minute. Just a minute. I only, well, I wanted to tell you. How ver’ sorry I am. For Rafe. For...how difficult it must be for him...”
