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“Why the hell did he walk into that chapel anyway? Rumor has it that he is always butting heads with his old man. Could this be some sort of retribution on his part? Something he did to piss the old man off?”
Her tapered eyebrows lifted. “You cannot think he would go that far.”
“Yeah.” Taking her hand in his, he studied the ring. “It’s exquisite.”
“It is.”
“And your life is about to change.”
“Already has.”
He looked at her. “Are you prepared for it?”
“Nope. But I made my bed and will have to lie in it.” She sighed deeply. “We will get through the year and after that—"
“You will still be Mrs. Jaylen Monteith. The reporters will still flock around, and follow you everywhere because of your association with the guy and his dad. It will never be business as usual for you again.”
“Thanks for that depressing statement.”
“I am just stating a fact.” He rose and pulled her up with him. “I have to go and I know you are exhausted.”
“There was turbulence just before we landed.”
“And I know how you are about that. How did you ride it out?”
She hesitated a minute before looking toward the building. “Jaylen helped me through it.”
He gave her a curious look. “Perhaps there is hope for the pretty boy after all.” Leaning forward, he kissed her on the cheek. “I am only a phone call away.”
*****
Cradling the scotch between his palms, he peered out the frosted window at the two people. The men had taken the suitcases upstairs and he had instructed them to leave them in the master suite.
She would decide where she wants to stay. He sipped the whiskey, a frown touching his brow as he watched them. He knew that they were close, having been in the same children’s home. But the guy was behaving as if he was her damn lover.
Why that was making him edgy was beyond him. And it was damn cold, why was he keeping her out there in the cold?
Was she delaying being alone with him? Because they would be well and truly alone. She would be exhausted. There was a meal in the warmer. He could suggest they sit right here in the living room where the electric fire was making the place cozy and relaxing.
His shoulders straightened and he moved away from the window as he watched them separate. Moving away from the window, he walked over to the fireplace to stare into the mesmerizing flames.
He had things to do. His life had been interrupted enough and his agent had been calling his phone and leaving messages. He had contracts to look over and because he had put off his plans of going to the Caribbean, he was going to have to make some adjustments.
He felt when she came in, but deliberately did not turn around.
“Corey left.”
He turned then to see that she had shed her outer jacket and was rubbing her hands to warm them. “Nice and cozy in here.”
“I suppose you want to go and freshen up and get some sleep.”
“I am starving," she told him with a laugh. “Let’s go and raid the kitchen.”
“Good idea.” He felt the relief coursing through his veins. “I think there is some roast beef in the warmer.”
“Sounds yummy," she entered the kitchen and stopped in amazement. “Holy crap," she breathed reverently. It was not as stark and modern as she had expected, but was a mellow yellow and white with an old-fashioned range in one corner.
It was big with lots of space and pinewood cupboards. Instead of an island, there was a dining table and four chairs tucked beneath the large bay window overlooking a pond.
