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Authors: Jennifer Lewis
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he might be ready to “move on” with her, after seventeen years of pining,
even though they’d only just met?
Guilt stabbed her hard. She wasn’t here to mend his broken
heart, but to mend her father’s. She hadn’t given any thought to James’s
feelings at all, mostly because she’d assumed he didn’t have any. How could he
possibly think she might be “the one” he’d managed to avoid for so long?
Or maybe she was reading too much into the situation. He could
have brought her here just to entertain himself while he prepared his search for
the perfect lady of the manor. Probably someone tall and blond, with
aristocratic ancestry traceable back to the Bronze Age. Certainly not a petite,
Californian business geek with an evil scheme up her sleeve.
She had no idea what to say. The atmosphere had thickened as if
a storm was gathering, but the white sky outside was as mute as the castle
ghosts. “That’s great. It’s been a long time.” She cursed herself for sounding
so lame. And as if she might expect him to “move on” with her.
“So they tell me. Sometimes it feels like only yesterday.
Especially when I come back here.” He frowned and headed up the flight of
stairs. She followed him with relief that she could move and breathe again.
“That’s why you don’t like to come back here, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
So he’d avoided his ancestral home and its stunning natural
surroundings not because he thought the place was boring and remote, but because
it was haunted by memories and regrets that time hadn’t managed to erase. “I bet
she would have wanted you to move on.” She wasn’t even sure why she said it. It
seemed the kind of thing an elderly aunt might suggest, not a girl brought here
to distract him from his painful past.
He turned and frowned, then laughed. “How would you know?”
She felt insulted, as if he’d slapped her, which made her
protest quickly. “If she loved you, she’d want you to be happy.” Unless she was
selfish and heartless and wanted him to spend the rest of his life pining for
her, which was entirely possible, of course.
He was silent, climbing the stone stairs slowly. What floor
were they on? She felt as if they’d climbed enough stairs to be at the top of a
skyscraper by now. They reached another landing, and he turned a heavy iron
latch and opened an arched wooden door. She gasped as it opened to the outside
and light poured into the dim stairwell. James stepped outside and she followed
him onto a terrace, high above the surrounding countryside.
“You’re right, of course.” The wind carried his words away.
“She would have been disgusted by my behavior.”
“Why?”
“Letting innocent women think that I’m an ordinary man who
might make them happy.” He squinted at the bright horizon, brown crumpled peaks
against the stark white sky, with a carpet of lush green pasture beneath. “Only
to leave them as soon as they showed any sign of emotion.”
Fiona swallowed. He certainly wasn’t advertising his better
qualities to her. Which likely meant that he wasn’t too interested in impressing
her or having any kind of relationship beyond a quick kiss and grope. Why did
that make her gut twist in such an uncomfortable way? She shouldn’t care at all.
She wasn’t looking to fall madly in love with James and have him pledge his
undying adoration for her.
“So how do you feel different now?” She asked the probing
question, almost daring him to insult her more. She still didn’t fully
understand why he’d asked her here. She didn’t believe he’d brought her to find
the cup, as he didn’t seem to care too much about it one way or the other.
Besides, she was no seasoned treasure hunter—unless the treasure was consumer
dollars.
Instead of softening, his face hardened, cheekbones and proud
nose and chin forming an impressive silhouette against the bright sky. “It’s
time for me to choose a wife and produce an heir.”
Her already
even though they’d only just met?
Guilt stabbed her hard. She wasn’t here to mend his broken
heart, but to mend her father’s. She hadn’t given any thought to James’s
feelings at all, mostly because she’d assumed he didn’t have any. How could he
possibly think she might be “the one” he’d managed to avoid for so long?
Or maybe she was reading too much into the situation. He could
have brought her here just to entertain himself while he prepared his search for
the perfect lady of the manor. Probably someone tall and blond, with
aristocratic ancestry traceable back to the Bronze Age. Certainly not a petite,
Californian business geek with an evil scheme up her sleeve.
She had no idea what to say. The atmosphere had thickened as if
a storm was gathering, but the white sky outside was as mute as the castle
ghosts. “That’s great. It’s been a long time.” She cursed herself for sounding
so lame. And as if she might expect him to “move on” with her.
“So they tell me. Sometimes it feels like only yesterday.
Especially when I come back here.” He frowned and headed up the flight of
stairs. She followed him with relief that she could move and breathe again.
“That’s why you don’t like to come back here, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
So he’d avoided his ancestral home and its stunning natural
surroundings not because he thought the place was boring and remote, but because
it was haunted by memories and regrets that time hadn’t managed to erase. “I bet
she would have wanted you to move on.” She wasn’t even sure why she said it. It
seemed the kind of thing an elderly aunt might suggest, not a girl brought here
to distract him from his painful past.
He turned and frowned, then laughed. “How would you know?”
She felt insulted, as if he’d slapped her, which made her
protest quickly. “If she loved you, she’d want you to be happy.” Unless she was
selfish and heartless and wanted him to spend the rest of his life pining for
her, which was entirely possible, of course.
He was silent, climbing the stone stairs slowly. What floor
were they on? She felt as if they’d climbed enough stairs to be at the top of a
skyscraper by now. They reached another landing, and he turned a heavy iron
latch and opened an arched wooden door. She gasped as it opened to the outside
and light poured into the dim stairwell. James stepped outside and she followed
him onto a terrace, high above the surrounding countryside.
“You’re right, of course.” The wind carried his words away.
“She would have been disgusted by my behavior.”
“Why?”
“Letting innocent women think that I’m an ordinary man who
might make them happy.” He squinted at the bright horizon, brown crumpled peaks
against the stark white sky, with a carpet of lush green pasture beneath. “Only
to leave them as soon as they showed any sign of emotion.”
Fiona swallowed. He certainly wasn’t advertising his better
qualities to her. Which likely meant that he wasn’t too interested in impressing
her or having any kind of relationship beyond a quick kiss and grope. Why did
that make her gut twist in such an uncomfortable way? She shouldn’t care at all.
She wasn’t looking to fall madly in love with James and have him pledge his
undying adoration for her.
“So how do you feel different now?” She asked the probing
question, almost daring him to insult her more. She still didn’t fully
understand why he’d asked her here. She didn’t believe he’d brought her to find
the cup, as he didn’t seem to care too much about it one way or the other.
Besides, she was no seasoned treasure hunter—unless the treasure was consumer
dollars.
Instead of softening, his face hardened, cheekbones and proud
nose and chin forming an impressive silhouette against the bright sky. “It’s
time for me to choose a wife and produce an heir.”
Her already
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