Page 8 of The Bride's Desire

“You will not take her to Rohan. The man is a womanizer.”

His mom snorted. “I don’t know why the two of you have butted heads since high school, but Vivian and I think it’s ridiculous. He’s a perfectly nice man, and I trust him.”

“No. Mother, you’re not taking her anywhere. She’s fine here. Hell, I need a housekeeper. She could always have that job.”

“Dear, she’s more wife material. If there’s no chance with you, I’d feel better having her with a man who wants to get to know her.”

He rolled his eyes. “I never said there was no chance.”

“Oh?”

“Mom, I know what you’re doing.”

“Really?” she asked innocently.

“Yes, you’re trying to manipulate me.”

There was a pause. “Is it working?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he hissed.

“All right then, I want updates. I’d also like to talk to Naomi privately.”

He handed Naomi the phone, pushed the button to take them off the speaker, and crossed his arms over his chest.

He watched the young woman’s face change with different emotions. Fear came first, embarrassment followed, and then a small smile. Naomi said goodbye and then handed him back the phone.

“She said to tell you to keep her updated. She said she’dmake a list of possible candidates if it doesn’t work with us.”

He looked at the ceiling in disgust before he looked back at her.

“Have you eaten?”

“Oh, well, no, but I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

He snorted, pulled her to her feet, and grabbed her bag and backpack.

“Let’s get you fed, and then I think you’d probably like to crash.”

She nodded. “Yes, I am very tired.”

He dropped her bag on the floor by the kitchen door and then walked and opened the refrigerator.

“How does a sandwich sound?”

“Oh, anything is fine. Really.”

She looked around. He’d only kept the light on over the table, putting most of the kitchen in shadows, but what she saw would take work to get it clean again.

He got the fixings out and slapped together several sandwiches. He handed her one of the plates that had one sandwich on it, and he had three.

“Water, milk, or beer?” he asked before he went to the table.

“Water, please.”

They ate in silence. Every once in a while, he’d glance up to catch her looking at him. He grinned because she’d blush and then duck her head.

His mom was right. She was charming and definitely his type. He’d always gone for brunettes over blondes. She was delicately built but not fragile.

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