Page 39 of Nothing to No One

“This?”

“You here,” he said on another glimmer of a smile. “If you were in my trailer, I’d never leave it.”

If they were in that place, she wouldn’t have released him from their bed before leaving the house.

“I haven’t decided if I’ll let you go from here yet.” Dragging her knees higher, she squeezed herself even closer. “It’s only with you I feel whole.”

On his next kiss, she relaxed. What an idiot. Why did she say that? Whatever was going on between them, it was too early to confess her own secret. Even after her arms and legs loosened, he stayed right there on top of her.

“Hold that thought,” he murmured against her lips.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“No apologies,” he said, meeting her eye again. “We’re going to figure this out, Fawn.” After another kiss, he vaulted to his feet, and stayed there at the side of the bed, admiring her. “Now you’re just lying in my brother’s bed.”

He extended an arm, offering a hand. The moment she took it, he pulled her onto her feet, then she was in his embrace. For a guy with a job to do, he wasn’t rushing to do it. Not that she was complaining.

“Next time make it yours.”

The pride of his satisfaction wrapped her in seduction. “Yes, ma’am.” And if he kept looking at her like that, they might end up on the floor. “I’ll send Mieux in to hang out. Watch a movie, there’s food in the fridge.”

“Does she know?” she asked. “Mieux?”

“Not explicitly, but she has a way of knowing everything. Don’t underestimate her. She can be trusted a hundred percent.”

That was good to know. Only what was she asking? That Mieux knew her and Roman’s engagement was bullshit, or that her and Struan were…

“I’ll come find you when I can.”

She pulled him down for another kiss and laughed at his groan as they withdrew. Yeah, their lips shouldn’t really be getting such a workout, but, come on, alone, in privacy, it wasn’t like they could resist.

FOURTEEN

DINNER. With Roman. Life didn’t get much worse. Mieux broke the news later in the afternoon, not that she could make it seem like a surprise or a negative. Yay, she was eating with her fiancé, woo hoo! Big sigh.

Didn’t help that Chic, the stylist who’d led her makeover, was waiting at home to talk her through that week’s designated outfits. Yes, that’s right, theweekof designated outfits. For both during the day and in the evening. It wasn’t enough they’d filled the closet. No, obviously she couldn’t be trusted to dress herself. Everything down to the underwear and the earrings were picked out ready to go. She and Roman hadn’t crossed paths on theUndercover Opsset, but she was sure he was responsible for the strict instruction all the same.

Didn’t make much difference to her what she wore, so she went along, doing as told, because what difference did it make?

She put on the dress, the shoes, curled her hair as instructed, and spritzed on the perfume left by accessories in her closet.

Outside in the driveway, she got into the car expecting an impatient Roman, except the backseat was empty. Huh, well, that gave her a chance to check out the fridge. There should be champagne or whiskey… Anything alcoholic would—nothing but club soda. How exciting.

With Roman being an addict, curbing temptation must be a rule. Did that mean no alcohol in the house? No, there’d been wine with dinner the previous night. Wine. Good start. Sheshifted along the seat intending to run in for a quick shot of something, but didn’t get further than the middle.

Roman got in and slammed the door. “Where have you been?” he demanded. “What was the delay?”

Uh, attitude? Oh, wait, this wasn’t the reasonable Lowe. This was the unreasonable one.

“I’m here,” she said, sliding along the seat to get as far away from him as possible. “Before you.”

“I was waiting in the foyer for an hour. I don’t wait around for anyone.”

Definitely an exaggeration. Petulant actually, like a three-year-old. Wow. What a champ.

Gravel crunched beneath the tires. Good. Go Faster. Every second that passed was one closer to being away from him. That was what to focus on. They’d drive wherever they were driving. Eat. It was dinner. She didn’t need dessert or coffee or an appetizer, entree and home.

The point was to be seen, you know, happy, pleased to be with the man she loved. No scandal. No headlines.

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