An Unforgettable Lady (An Unforgettable Lady #1)(68)

She put her hand on his arm. "I wanted to be with you."

Smith shrugged her off impatiently. "That's not really an exclusive club, is it? Now that you're getting free from your husband."

Grace sucked in a breath. "I can't believe you said that."

Smith pushed off the tree trunk and loomed over her. “You want to talk? Fine, but let's get real. Mr. Charm's got a whole lot to offer you, doesn't he?. I bet he's goddamn front and center with the flowers and jewelry after he gets his rocks off. Hell, he'd even make a great second husband. All I can offer you is a one-night stand with a member of the lower classes. Weighing your options, I think you made the right choice."

"Excuse me," she said, hotly, "but if you recall, you were the one turning me down the night of my birthday. And I did not sleep with Jack!"

Smith glared at her. "That lie is a waste of breath, Countess."

"Don't call me that," she snapped.

"Fine. How does whore sound?”

Grace hissed as she was blinded by anger. With a sharp movement, she drew back her hand, ready to slap him.

"You want to hit me?" he growled. "Go ahead."

She stood there, shaking, unable to comprehend what she was doing.

Smith leaned in closer, jutting out his chin. "Hell, because you're supposedly a lady, I'll even make it easy for you. Aim high and follow through."

Grace blinked and slowly dropped her hand. In a voice rough with emotion, she whispered, "God help me. I wish I had never met you." With her heart in her throat, she ran toward the house.



* * *



Grace closed her bedroom door and paced around, waiting for her body to stop trembling. She couldn't remember being that mad at anyone before and knew the strength of her emotions was about so much more than just the words he'd spoken or the tone he'd used. She had the sense they were circling around what they wanted and avoiding the truth. Clearly, it was driving them both mad.



She was convinced Smith was beginning to care for her. It was the only explanation for his behavior toward Jack. And she knew damn well how she was feeling about him. The fact that they couldn't just admit what was between them upset her the most.

Sitting down on her bed, she saw the panic button and picked it up, resenting the reminder of the real reason John was in her life. She was finding it difficult to separate her feelings for him from the reality that he worked for her. And would be leaving, perhaps some day soon. She couldn't imagine what it would be like not to see him. Even when he was frustrating the hell out of her, she wanted him around.

When a soft knock sounded, she threw the little black box down onto the pillow and straightened her clothes.

"Yes?"

When John came in, she stood up, surprised.

"This won't take long," he said, shutting the door and leaning back against it. His expression was remote.

She offered him a lopsided grin, pleased that he'd come and found her. "Don't worry if it does. It's not like I had any big plans before breakfast."

"Listen, I'm sorry I lost it down there," he said gruffly.

"What I said was totally inappropriate and unprofessional. I should've just kept my mouth shut."

“I don't think that's the best strategy." She tucked a pillow into her arms and looked at her tumbled sheets and blankets. Evidence of her deepening relationship with insomnia, she thought. "I don't know if I can keep living under this pressure."

She heard him release a long breath, like he was switching topics in his head. “I don't blame you. I promise, the police are going to find whoever killed those women—”

"No. I'm talking about you. About us." She glanced up. “I don't like what just happened. I don't like turning into such an angry person. But being around you with so much left unsaid and unexplained is tearing me up. Frankly, I think it's tearing us both up."

He crossed his arms over his chest. The stance, she thought, was so typical of him.

"John, we can't ignore what's happening between us. And don't you dare tell me that it's nothing. Last night, you looked like you wanted to kill Jack when he came through that door."

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He shifted his weight impatiently and she got the impression he was anxious to leave.

Exasperation tightened her voice. "John—"

" Look, in spite of what I said down there, it's none of my business who you sleep—what you do in your personal life."

"You can say the words, but I don't know if I believe them."

For once, Smith was the one looking away. Pushing his hands deep into his pockets, he seemed to be debating within himself. When he finally spoke, the words came out rigidly.

"I watched him kiss you. I was out on the terrace."

Grace frowned. "I don't know what you think you saw. But Jack has never kissed me anywhere except on the cheek."

He started shaking his head, as if he was frustrated with himself. "Dammit, we shouldn't even be having this conversation."

He made a move for the door.

"John, we need to talk about this. Don't go."

"I have to."

"What are you so afraid of?" she whispered fiercely.