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What I want is for her to take my elbow but she ignores it and stomps out into the living room on her own and my lips twitch in amusement because I am not used to people acting like this around me.
Then again it’s obvious that she doesn’t trust me.
Good girl.
No woman should trust a man who doesn’t make his intentions clear from the start and as of now she has no idea that I am here because of her and only because of her.
The girl sits down next to Mr. Bryce as if she thinks the old man is going to protect her from me and she watches me with both widened and narrowed eyes as I take a seat. She fidgets with her hands, crossing and uncrossing her legs and every time she moves her scent spreads in the air.
It makes my throat burn from desire, it guts me, makes my mouth hurt from how badly I need to feel her twitch under it. Feel her surrender and the happiest day of my life will be when she kneels before me and looks up at me with those sweet eyes.
“Tell me,” Mr. Bryce begins as Pattie takes a seat next to me, “what business do you have down in Carolina?”
“House hunting,” I reply, my tone casual like I’m not trying to fight my every impulse, “as you well may know your son sold one of my properties up north and he was supposed to come down here with me and help me look for another one.” My lips pull over my teeth in a charming smile but the girl is the only one not falling for it. “Alas...”
Mr. Bryce and Pattie laugh, shaking their heads but the girl crosses her arms. She’s not buying my story.Good. Girl.If only I could praise her and tell her how proud I am of her for being wary of men.
Though eventually, I am going to have to demand trust from her. And much more.
“Yes, how unfortunate,” she murmurs, squirming. “But whereexactlyis Morton?”
My face hardens slightly at the sound of his name on her lips but I’m about to respond when Pattie exclaims,
“Why, he’s still in New York of course.” She turns to me. “And where will you be staying until Morton comes down here and helps you with the house hunting? Have you already booked a hotel?”
I shake my head. “I’m afraid there wasn’t enough time. Plans changed quickly...”
“Oooh, then you must stay here,” Pattie says, patting me on my knee and Mr. Bryce nods in agreement and my plan is going exactly as intended.
“No...,” the girl pants and her body tenses in protest. Our eyes lock and it feels like the room is spinning around us, pulling us closer together. And closer. She takes her eyes back, breaking the trance and Pattie scolds her.
“What do you mean no? Where is your hospitality? Of course Mr. Rowe must stay. After all, he is a friend and a client to your fiancé. Show some respect.”
The girl pales, earning my sympathy because I am a most difficult man. I’m not easy to ignore or easy to get rid of. And once I bite, I bite hard and I don’t let go.
The girl shakes her head, causing waves of black to crush against her chest. “B...but he can’t say here.” Her hand clutches around the armrest. “There isn’t enough room, where will he sleep...”
They burst out in laughter as if the girl is crazy and the rain starts whipping against the windows. My gaze goes to hers and I wish that she would ease. And maybe if she dares to look me in the eyes long enough she will realize just how deeply connected we already are.
“Nonsense, there’s tons of rooms to choose from,” Mr. Bryce blurts but I raise my hands.
“I do not want to impose. If Miss. Zinnia is uncomfortable with my stay here then...”
“She’s not uncomfortable, she wants you to stay,” Pattie brushes me off. “She’s just disappointed that she doesn’t get to see her beloved Morton.”
Flexing my jaw, my eyes go to the girl and she blushes and looks away.
“Zinnia,” Pattie says and she sounds like she’s talking to a child, “why don’t you make yourself useful?”
Standing up, the girl murmurs without even looking at me. “I’ll go get us some refreshments.”
I want to curse. It annoys me that she’s going to leave the room and I force myself to hide my foul mood when she disappears. My body immediately goes restless and it’s hard to keep sitting there and endure the Bryce’s tedious questions.
Excusing myself, I get up and find my way into the kitchen and I lean against the doorway when I catch her by the counter and my mouth curves. She humors me, the way she’s obviously trying to avoid spending any time with me. Scooping out a teaspoon of sugar she pours it into a big jug of tea then stirs it.
Slowly. Carefully.
Her movements are hypnotic and the kitchen is bathing in a grey light from the bad weather outside and the shadow her subtle body throws on the wall seems so small. I want to protect it. Protect her from storms, this house and most of all I want to protect her from the Bryce’s.
