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Maybe I wasn’t exactly getting a happy ending here. Not yet. After all, this was just a date, not a wedding. And yeah, my duke was the filthy-mouthed Arsenal fan, not a genteel Byronic hero.
But my little Anglophile heart was brimming with excitement, anyway. Excitement and nerves.
“We’re going to have a lovely time, aren’t we, Little Miss?” Elsie was saying as I found her sitting with Sofia at the Australia-sized kitchen island. “We’ve made good friends already, you and I.”
“Mm-hmm,” Sofia replied, mouth full of a crumbly treat. “Best friends.”
“That’s a compliment right there,” I said, joining them at the counter. “Not just anyone gets to be best friends with this one. She’s picky.”
My heart skipped a bit, taken back to similar moments I’d had sitting at the bar in my grandmother’s kitchen, helping her make manicotti or roll out cookie dough. Elsie, Xavier had told me, was much more than an assistant. His mother’s best friend, she had been in his life since he was a child himself and had been the only steadfast part of it since Masumi passed when Xavier was just sixteen. Considering my own mother’s less-than-stellar presence in my life, and Nonna’s age, this lovely woman might be the closest Sofia was ever going to get to a grandmother of her own.
“Well, don’t you look nice,” Elsie said, clearly approving of the swishy blue dress. “That color looks just like Miss Sofia’s eyes, doesn’t it?”
“Just like them!” Sofia agreed. “And Daddy’s too!”
She gave me a crumb-wreathed little grin, as if she’d been planning it the whole time.
I tried not to flush. Okay, maybe I had been thinking of Xavier’s bright blues when I’d picked the dress out of Kate’s collection.
“Don’t eat any more of those, baby girl,” I told her. “You don’t want to spoil your dinner with cookies. And Elsie, please try to keep her awake until at least six thirty to get on London time. Otherwise, she’ll be up at four, I’m guessing.”
“Of course, dear. No problem at all. That’s what the sugar’s for, you know.”
“They’re not cookies, Mama. They’re biscuits. Elsie said.”
“She sounds English already.”
I jumped at the sound of Xavier’s deep voice, and we all turned to find him lounging on the sofa across the room, one long arm spread across the back, the other hand busy texting. He had changed too and looked more duke-like than I ever remembered. The sporty clothes and Arsenal paraphernalia had been replaced by a sleek, black three-piece suit that made his shoulders look impossibly broad and his hair shine black as night.
“Look, you match!” Sofia announced with glee, pointing at Xavier’s blue shirt and tie and my dress. “Like a prince and princess!”
I grinned. But Xavier did not, suddenly scowling when his phone buzzed with another message.
“Everything all right?” I wondered, approaching cautiously.
“Fine, yeah. Someone’s…misbehaving.”
My spine tingled. I knew exactly what Xavier was capable of when I “misbehaved.” In the past, we had a tendency to fight that generally evolved into toe-curling kisses and being taken on kitchen counters like this one.
But I didn’t think he was referring to that sort of transgression.
Lord, it had been a long six weeks, I thought as I watched him scowl at his phone. For a second, I had a mind to let Sofia go to bed as early as she wanted, drag Xavier back to the bedroom, and let him take out his frustrations on my hungry body for as long as he needed.
Xavier continued to look at his phone, oblivious to my thoughts. But eventually, he seemed to feel the intensity of my stare and looked up.
“Sorry,” I murmured. “You, um, ready to go?”
He shoved his phone into his jacket pocket with a huff and then stood up and faced me as I slid off the stool. The scowl fell away, replaced by something equally wild yet deliciously wicked as his eyes scanned up my body, taking in my black heels, bared legs, short skirt, tailored bodice, and the hair I’d washed and curled around my shoulders.
The tingle in my spine returned. I bit my lip.
“Damn,” he said quietly. “You look like a fucking treat.”
“Daddy! Swear jar!”
“What’s a swear jar, love?” Elsie asked.
I grinned at Xavier. “At home, we keep a jar in the house to help my brother with his, er, speech. He has to put a dollar in every time he swears. Sofia thinks Xavi has the same problem. She’s earned a pretty penny off him.”
