The Reluctant Heiress: A Novella(16)

The waitress opens the slim leather folio, then slaps it back closed. When her eyes lift to us, they show white around the edges.

“D-do you want change?” she squeaks.

“Nope,” says Alex, already standing.

The rest of us follow suit. We file out of the restaurant to the valet. After another dance of farewells—not so awkward this time—Robert and I watch them drive away in a horrendous, ancient Saab. I shake my head fondly while Robert scratches his in confusion.

“Don’t ask,” I say, laughing.

He chuckles and holds me close. I melt into him. It feels easy. Comfortable. Why did I discourage his casual touches before?

He asks teasingly, “Are you going to tell me what Alex did to make our waitress piss herself?”

I grin. “He left her a four-hundred-dollar tip.”

Robert’s brows go up and he whistles softly. “That’s… well, I’m impressed.” He shakes his head and kisses me on the cheek. “Thank you for bringing me today, Candace. I know it was a big step for you. I’m honored.”

I blink at him, a little unsettled by how easily he identified my fear. Thankfully, the car arrives before I have to decide on a response. He holds my hand the entire drive home, tracing circles on my palm with his thumb. And I like it.

When we reach my house, we lounge on the couch for a while, then hike down to the beach. We stroll along the waterline hand in hand. We share private smiles and soft kisses, surrounded by idyllic beauty.

As the sun begins to set, we head back to the house. Without speaking, I take him by the hand and guide him into the master bathroom. I turn on the shower, then face him. I undress slowly, shaking my head when he tries to help. By the time I’m naked, the heat in his eyes burns me from three feet away. His clothes are shed with alacrity.

He takes me against the shower wall, my legs locked around him, my arms trapped over my head by one of his hands. It feels amazing to be held this way, to give up control.

“I’m close,” he whispers. “Are you?”

I promised him I wouldn’t lie, but can’t admit the truth. “Don’t stop,” I gasp.

He groans, thrusting harder. I close my eyes, concentrating on the sensations. I can do this. But I know it’s no use—climax lingers behind slippery fog.

Then, out of the blue, a memory punches me. It’s so vivid, so carnal, that I instantly peak, whimpering and bucking as Robert whispers encouragement in my ear. Seconds later, he shudders and groans.

We wash each other gently and dry off the same way. Once dressed, I make us a light dinner of grilled chicken and salad. If he notices my emotional withdrawal since the shower, he doesn’t comment.

I do my best to stay upbeat and responsive. I don’t flinch when he touches me. I return his kisses with all the passion I can muster. After cleaning up, we settle on the couch to watch a movie. He browses the guide while I make popcorn.

I hear Sebastian’s voice on the television and freeze.

Robert quickly changes the channel.





11





The following Friday, Vera forces me to confront a painful truth: I promised her we’d go dancing. When she calls mid-afternoon to remind me, I try to use a drunk pass. I didn’t mean it, I was drunk.

No luck.

At seven, I pick up dinner from Rhubarb and drive to her apartment in West Hollywood, which is closer to our destination. After eating, I sit on the rim of the bathtub while Vera curls her long hair.

“How’s Robert?” she asks around the bobby pins in her mouth.

“Great.”

Her eyes flicker to me. “How’s Robert?”

I frown. “He’s great. Really great. Thanks for asking.”

Pins fly as she spits them out and whirls in a flurry of sparkly red dress and long, half-curled hair. “You’ve lost your fucking mind,” she says, her mild tone in sharp contrast to the emotion in her eyes. “Great? Really great? You’re going to destroy this poor man. At dinner last night he had the Look.”

I stammer, “W-what are you talking about?”

She stabs my shoulder with her index finger. “Don’t play dumb. It was the ‘wants to put babies in you’ Look! He’s falling hard, Candace.”

Anxiety pricks the soles of my feet. “Shit, I know,” I whisper brokenly. Her expression shifts rapidly to concern and she squats in front of me, hands on my knees. I grimace. “For God’s sake, put on some underwear.”

She smirks. “I will. But first we need to hash this out. You’ve had more than enough time to process. What’s going on?”

I take a deep breath; my chest feels painfully tight. “I care about Robert,” I tell her honestly. “He’s pretty much the perfect man.”

“But?”

I mutter under my breath, “I can’t, um—”

“Speak up!”

“Damn you,” I snarl, but without any real heat. “Fine. I think about Sebastian when I’m with Robert. When we’re having sex. It’s the only way I can have an orgasm.”

Vera sits on the floor with a thump. “Oh. Well… Oh.”

I drag a hand through my hair, breathing heavily. My heart is pounding so hard my armpits are tingling.

“I’m the worst person in the world, aren’t I?”