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“That’s an excellent idea, don’t you agree, Evan?”
“Absolutely, Gran.”
At that point, Ophelia instructed her whole house computer to play Christmas jazz. Though the music and conversation flowed around Kaylee, her inner turmoil kept her detached from the holiday cheer.
The moment they left Magnolia Manor she would ensure Frost received the tiara back to give to his real bride.
The thought rocketed anguish through her. But right now, surrounded by the love of a family that wasn’t hers, she was absolutely certain of one thing. She couldn’t do this any longer, even though she’d promised to serve as Frost’s hostess for his New Year’s Eve party.
After another half hour of keeping her emotions in check while pretending to be interested in memories of Christmases past, Ophelia shook her head and offered an apology. “It must be dreadfully boring to you since you don’t know most of the people I’m talking about.”
“Not at all.” It was just another reminder that she was an outsider, and that she didn’t belong in their circle. “I appreciate your sharing the stories with me.”
“Another brandy, Evan?”
He glanced at Kaylee.
She seized the first excuse she could. “I still need to finish making the truffles for tomorrow’s gathering.” Trying to find words that were the truth, but easy to misinterpret, she added, “My family celebrates the holiday on Christmas Day. My mom still likes to do all the cooking, but a couple of years ago, I took over the desserts. I’m afraid I go a little overboard because everyone has different tastes. One likes my chocolate pecan pie. Another is crazy about cheesecake. Of course, no holiday is complete without cookies, candy, or pumpkin pie. But my mom has a weakness for red-wine truffles. And, ah, since it’s our first gathering since my father passed, I want to get there early to help out.”
“Of course. I’m sorry I kept you so long.”
“No, no.” Urgently she shook her head. “Please don’t misunderstand. I’ve enjoyed every moment here, and I hate to leave. I so very much wanted to meet you after all the wonderful things that”—Kaylee had to force herself to use the name Ophelia would expect to hear—“Evan has said about you.”
“One thing I’ve missed is family dinners. It would be nice if the two of you could make a habit of joining me on Sunday afternoons? It doesn’t have to be here. A restaurant is fine. And even a couple of times a month would be welcome.”
Every moment, the situation became even more horrible to deal with. She sincerely liked Ophelia and enjoyed her company. If the relationship with Frost was real, she’d agree in an instant. “I—”
“We’ll check our calendars, Gran.” His interruption was smooth and easy as he stood. “Shall we, darling?”
In less than five minutes, he’d helped her into her coat, goodbyes and Christmas wishes had been exchanged, and she was seated beside Frost as he made a U-turn on Philip Street.
“What did you think of Gran?”
As if it were a time bomb, she clutched the box containing the tiara. “She’s wonderful.”
“You impressed the hell out of her.”
He couldn’t possibly know that.
As he drove, he made small talk that she responded to in the shortest number of words possible.
Then he pulled into a parking spot in front of her complex—meaning he expected to be invited inside, something she couldn’t allow. If he touched her, she might fracture. She sucked in a shallow breath to summon the strength she needed to get through this. “This charade is over.” Her voice cracked.
“What the hell?” After cutting the engine, he turned toward her. Even in the dark, she felt the impact of his scowl. “Kaylee—”
“I mean it, Mr. Frost.” She retreated behind formality. Then, frantically, she shoved the box at him, and he refused to take it. “This is yours. I mean—” She blinked back tears. “It’s your wife’s. Yourrealwife.”
“Wait. We need to talk.” His voice was implacable, but she didn’t back down, couldn’t. Everything was on the line.
She wrenched off her fake wedding ring.
“Fuck it all, Kaylee. Stop. Please. I’m begging you. Can we talk?”
She placed the box on the console and dropped the ring inside.
When he grabbed hold of her hand, she wrenched it away.
“Goddamn it!”
