It seemed disastrously appropriate that Zeke himself should arrive in the van’s wake. The sun glinted off the sides of his shiny landau and the gleaming black coats of horses and liveried servants.
A dark blue Prince Albert coat straining across his shoulders, his top hat tipped to an arrogant angle, Zeke descended to the pavement, swinging a gold-tipped walking stick. The crowd fell back, as much in awe as if he had been visiting royalty. Rory had a strong urge to drop a flowerpot of geraniums on his head.
It was fortunate she never allowed herself to be much upset by gossip, for Zeke had provided the Catholic Ladies Sewing Circle with enough fuel to see them through a summer of meetings. By the time he had made his way upstairs, there was no need for him to knock. Rory already had the door open.
Their gazes clashed across the threshold. Although Zeke removed his hat respectfully enough, his jaw was tipped to that familiar belligerent angle. In that instant, Rory realized neither of them had managed to shake off the tensions of yesterday. Rather like two armies, they had merely fallen back to regroup for a fresh skirmish.
Zeke didn’t wait for Rory to greet him, but strode past her into the flat. His gaze skated over the array of packages.
“I see Altman’s has already been here.”
Rory closed the door. “Been here and nearly buried me. What the devil is all this stuff, Morrison? If this is your way of trying to make up for the misunderstanding we had yesterday, it really wasn’t necessary.”
“This has nothing to do with yesterday. This is your trousseau.”
Her trousseau? Rory stiffened. Now she understood why Zeke hadn’t troubled himself to bring up the subject of marriage again. In his usual roughshod fashion, he was taking her assent for granted.
He poked beneath the lid of one of the boxes with the tip of his walking stick. “I told Altman’s to send a little of everything. If there’s anything there you don’t like, just send it back and exchange it.”
“I can’t imagine there’s anything left to exchange it for. I must have the contents of the entire store in here.” She placed her hands upon her hips. “Besides, I remember you demanding I marry you. I don’t recall you ever asking.”
“Then your memory is faulty, my dear.” Zeke shoved a pile of boxes off a chair with his cane and sat down. “I intended to make it formal yesterday, but the mood didn’t seem to be right.” He forced his lips into a semblance of a smile. “In any case, I don’t want to waste any more time, so come here.”
He patted his knee, and Rory choked on an angry gasp, realizing that he had the brass to be suggesting she perch herself upon his knee. He was acting nearly as badly as the night when she had first met him, when he had demanded she become his mistress.
Taking a deep breath, she struggled to keep her temper. It wasn’t easy when Zeke stood up flashing a diamond beneath her nose. The thing was blinding, the stone larger than some of the rocks she had skipped over the waters of the Hudson.
“My mother never wore anything but a plain gold band,” she said.
“Well, I can do better than that for my wife. Put it on.” When she made no move to obey his order, he reached for her hand. Rory whipped both of them behind her back.
“No, Zeke, you are not being fair. You promised to let me have more time to give you my answer.”
“I’ve given you plenty of time and it makes no difference. You know I always get what I want.” When she resisted his effort to gain possession of her hand, he pinioned her arms instead, plundering her mouth with a kiss that was rough and demanding, slowly deepening to become fire-hot. Rory strove to hold her body rigid as stone. But she was not a rock. Curse herself how she might, she responded, melting against him.
He traced the curve of her cheek, the line of her temple with his lips, murmuring, “What more does it take to convince you, woman? I’m not the sort to go down on one knee and spout poetry. Besides I never thought you’d be so silly as to want that.”
“I’m not. I just wish that you would— you’ve never even said that you love me.”
“I told you how much that I want you. It’s the same thing.”
“No, it isn’t.” She wrenched herself out of his arms. “Maybe you just want me the same as you wanted to be rich, to own a house on Fifth Avenue.”
“That’s ridiculous, Aurora Rose”
“Is it? I just wish that I could be sure you believed in something besides the power of your money.”
“Are you still expecting me to become the kind of champion Addison was? I’m no dream chaser, Rory. I told you that at the outset.”
“But I am,” she said, “which is likely the biggest obstacle between us. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get dressed. I did tell you that I have to go to the warehouse this morning.”
“There is no point in your doing that.”
Rory had been marching toward her bedchamber, but she paused, taken aback by the terse note in his voice.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean you won’t be able to get into the building. I’ve already been down there myself this morning. The locks have all been changed.”
