A Convenient Proposal(15)
But not before leaving him some interesting points to consider.
The lady had evaded nearly every question he’d asked. She denied playing an instrument—“not anymore,” she’d qualified. But he’d spied a well-worn violin case leaning in one corner of the cottage.
She lived alone on a sandbar, but owned a million dollar condo across the bay. Why would she maroon herself in the middle of the ocean?
Now she was heading back to civilization with him. Because, she said, she wanted a baby. Did she really plan to raise a child by herself on the island? That sounded like a new twist on the Tarzan plot. At least the condo, with its housekeeper, would make their lives comfortable.
But that huge space had been empty of any personal touch. No pictures on the walls or memorabilia lying around to reveal who lived there. How could such a desirable woman exist all alone in the world…alone except for the mute dog she’d rescued?
As they passed Naples, Florida, Arden stirred a little in her seat. Griff glanced over and saw that the sunglasses had slipped down her nose. He reached out, carefully took them off and put them in her lap.
The monotonous miles of Interstate 95 offered few diversions, so he found himself looking back fairly often at the fan of long lashes against her rosy cheeks and the shiny wing of black hair curving against her chin. She wore another linen dress today, pale green, with the swell of her breasts just visible under the soft cloth.
Blowing a long, silent whistle, Griff fixed his gaze on the road again. The woman turned him on, no question about it. He could blame six months of celibacy, at least in part—he wasn’t stupid or suicidal, and drinking his way around the Caribbean had not entailed indiscriminate sex. His ex-fiancée had been his last partner.
His body was definitely ready, willing and able to launch Arden toward her goal of motherhood.
That would make him the father of a child living more than five hundred miles away. The image didn’t fit with his definition of parenthood. Could he let his own flesh and blood grow up without him in the picture?
And this might be his only chance for a kid, given his current opinion of the marriage process. Maybe Arden would let him visit, at least. But he’d promised her no ties, after this escapade….
As he drove, his brain seethed with questions, not least of which was an explanation for the isolation she had imposed upon herself. He would get the answers, too, just as soon as his Sleeping Beauty opened her eyes. He needed to understand her life, her personality. Then they could set about consummating, as it were, the second part of the program.
Satisfied with his plan, Griff turned the volume on the radio up one notch and settled back in his seat.
An hour or so later, he glanced at his passenger to find tears coursing down her cheeks. Before he could react, she threw an arm across her eyes. A sob broke free from her throat, then another, even more anguished.
At the same moment, flashing lights in the rearview mirror caught Griff’s attention—flashing blue lights, coming up behind him. He looked at the speedometer and realized he’d forgotten about cruise control. “Shit.”
Moving his right foot to the brake pedal, he swore for the length of time it took him to slow the Jag down and pull over.
The change in motion woke Arden. She let her arm fall and sat up straight. “What’s going on?”
“Turns out ninety-five is the route we’re on, not the speed limit sign.”
Wiping tears from her cheeks with her fingers, she frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Griff rolled down his window. “I’ll let the nice officer here explain it to you.”
TWENTY MINUTES and two hundred dollars later, Griff eased the car back onto the highway. He had turned the radio off and they rode in silence for a few miles.
“I appreciate the loan,” he said at last, in a stiff voice. “I’ll pay you back when we get home.”
“That will be fine.” Arden wasn’t sure what she could safely say—men didn’t like to be reprimanded. “You might try to stay within the speed limit from now on,” she ventured. “I have only three hundred dollars left.”
His warm chuckle eased the tension between them. “Now, that’s just about the last response I expected. Thanks for not throwing a fit. I’ll be careful to stay legal for the rest of the trip.”
Releasing a deep breath, she let her head drop back against the seat, and wished the drive would end so she could lie down in a dark room with a cool cloth over her face. Her temples had started to pound and her eyes felt itchy and swollen. Slipping her dark glasses on again, she was thankful for somewhere to hide.