The Reluctant Heiress: A Novella(13)

Vera takes a dainty sip of her coffee. “If you say so.”

I stall as long as I possibly can, drinking two more coffees I don’t need. Vera finally tells me I’m being a baby and need to get my ass home. I wish her a fabulous dinner and food poisoning, then do as she says.

When I pull into my driveway, the sun is low in the sky, shadowing the front of the house. It isn’t until the automatic headlights blink on that I see the man standing on my doorstep holding a dozen long-stemmed red roses.

Thoughts of Sebastian are momentarily banished.

I forego the garage and park near the path connecting the driveway to the front door. Keys and purse dangling from one hand, I walk briskly toward him.

“Robert? What are you doing here?”

The closer I get, the clearer his conciliatory expression becomes. With his big brown eyes, he looks like a hurt puppy. A Ralph Lauren-wearing, yacht-owning puppy.

“Can we talk?” he asks softly.

I glance at the flowers. I should tell him to get lost, but can’t. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the genuine regret in his eyes. Or maybe the chorus of my brothers’ voiced concerns is finally breaching my hard head. I don’t like that Deacon calls me a man-eater, or that Charles thinks I’m commitment phobic.

And I really don’t like that I slept with two men in two days.

I nod. “Sure, come on in.”

Robert moves out of the way so I can open the door. I step inside, turn off the beeping alarm, and drop my purse on a side table. He follows me into the kitchen, where I pull open the refrigerator.

Turning, I ask, “Want something to drink?”

He shakes his head and offers me the flowers. I blink at them like an idiot until he sighs, laying them down on a counter.

“I need to apologize, Candace.”

“Really, Rob, it’s not a big deal.”

I busy myself with pouring a glass of water. My hands are shaking. Caffeine swims fast in my blood, making me feel like I’m filled with bees. Or you’re having a panic attack, suggests my inner therapist.

“I was trying to make you jealous.”

I almost drop my glass. After carefully setting it down, I give him my full attention. Or try to. For some reason, it’s incredibly difficult to meet his gaze.

“That woman, Jessica, is an old friend,” he continues. “I asked her to pretend like she was flirting with me. I wanted you to notice, to get mad. It was childish and obviously backfired. I should have called you and explained, but I was embarrassed. And hurt. I got drunk instead.”

I try to think of something to say, and come up with, “Okay.” I’m actually incredibly impressed by his honesty.

Robert grimaces, pulling a hand through his hair. “I know we’ve only been dating a few weeks and haven’t talked about exclusivity or anything, but I… I think you’re fantastic. You’re smart, funny, and sexy. I enjoy being around you. I want to be around you more.”

A sick, twisted feeling takes hold of my gut. And it’s not too much coffee. He’s telling me he cares about me. And while he was hurt and drunk, I slept with Sebastian like he meant nothing.

Does he mean nothing?

I look hard at him, past the polished good looks, the soft eyes. I think about his sweetness and gentleness. Robert is truly Old School—chivalrous, raised to respect and adore women. He’s been nothing but solicitous, charming, and generous.

Do I care about him? I don’t know. And then it hits me—I never tried to care about him. Because all these years, I’ve still been waiting. For Sebastian. Fucking fuck.

Robert takes a quick step forward. “Darling, are you crying?”

I sniff and wipe hard at my eyes. “Maybe. I guess. Thank you, Rob, for telling me that.”

He gazes at me with concern, one hand half-raised. “Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything.”

I blink past the hazy filter of tears. “I was pissed when I saw you with that woman. Jealous, I guess. But, Robert, it doesn’t matter. The bottom line is that you deserve a better woman than me. I can’t give you what you want.”

He takes another step, expression intent. “You don’t know what I want.”

My lips twitch. “Okay, sorry.”

He shakes his head; the sunset glows in his eyes, turning them almost amber. “I want you, Candace Hughes. However much you’re willing to give me.”

Alarm bells sound in my head. He wants commitment! Commitment! I begin shaking my head, but he reaches out to capture my face in his hands.

“Do we have a good time together? Do we laugh a lot, have good conversations?”

“Yes,” I admit.

He smiles softly. “How about we just leave it at that for now? We keep having a good time, and I keep trying to give you that elusive orgasm.” Heat floods my face and he chuckles. “You’re not as good at faking it as you think.”

I shut my eyes in embarrassment, which is immediately compounded by memory of four recent orgasms. “I’m sorry, Rob.” And I’m apologizing for more than faked orgasms.

His thumbs gently brush my jaw. “You’re forgiven. And unless you’re going to dump me right now, no more overnights with Sebastian Bellizzi.”

My eyes pop open as the blood drains from my head. “What?” I whisper.

His lips thin, but his eyes stay warm. “I might have come to your house late last night and seen his motorcycle.”