The Bride Goes Rogue (The Fifth Avenue Rebels #3)(38)

“God, I’m so embarrassed about that, Alice. Forgive me.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s Preston’s fault for not warning us he was bringing a guest here today. And it’s clear the two of you were having fun. He seemed incredibly annoyed at the interruption, in fact.”

Katherine bit her lip and studied the tiled floor. Had Preston enjoyed watching her? There was something about having that man’s undivided attention that made her bold. Reckless. One step away from shedding all her clothes and crawling onto his lap.

She tried to brush it aside. “We were just playing around.”

“I believe it.” Alice slid her diced onions into a bowl. “Goodness knows you deserve a little fun after waiting on him for a year. Before that, you were in mourning for your mother. This hasn’t been easy for you. So whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

“Thank you, Alice. You’re a good friend.”

Alice gave her a grateful smile. “As are you. And I know how it feels to have your life on hold, out of your control. I never thought I’d have my own kitchen, let alone a husband who adores me. Don’t waste another second. Go out there and find your passion.”

“I will. You give very good advice, Alice.”

“I do? That’s nice to hear, considering you’re the one who gave me possibly the most important piece of advice I’ve ever received.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You told me to know my own worth. I’ve never forgotten it.”

Aunt Dahlia’s words, but Katherine remembered passing them along at the house party. Had she forgotten her own advice? She’d nearly let Mr. Jennis talk her out of her dream design earlier today. Why was she so willing to let others direct the course of her life?

The kitchen door swung open and Kit walked in. Preston was directly behind him, his expression flat and distant, not at all like the man who’d teased her into dancing for him. Kit inclined his head toward Katherine. “Miss Delafield. My apologies for not greeting you properly earlier.”

“Hello, Kit. And I should be the one to apologize for getting up on the stage—”

“Nope,” he interrupted. “We are never going to discuss that, not ever. I’d like to keep all my teeth, if you please.”

What on earth did that mean? Katherine’s brow furrowed as she glanced at Preston. But he was no help, ignoring her to go over and greet Alice. The others chatted about food and the evening’s reservations for a moment, giving Katherine the chance to examine Preston’s strong profile, the broad expanse of his shoulders. The fabric of his suit stretched across his wide back, then down his long legs. He was the most compelling man in any room, like a beautiful summer storm, one you hurried outside to watch.

I serve at your pleasure, mon chaton.

Tingles streaked along her inner thighs, and she pressed her legs together tightly. She wanted more of Preston’s playfulness. She liked teasing him and making him smile. She liked the way he touched and kissed her, as if he was starving for her. She even liked his arrogance.

Perhaps Alice was right. Katherine should go out and find her passion. Build a museum and have an affair, become the woman she was always meant to be.

And Preston could certainly help.

He swung toward her, so she dragged her gaze off his body and up to his face. The quirk of his brow said she’d been caught staring, but his voice and expression remained blank. “Miss Delafield, we should probably return you home.”

The chance to sit in a closed carriage with him once more loomed like a thrilling drop on one of those rides at Coney Island. She pushed off the stool. “Yes, we probably should.”





Chapter Twelve




After saying their goodbyes and collecting their things, Preston led her out the door and toward his waiting carriage. He said nothing as he handed her up and climbed in after her. His long legs were tucked awkwardly in the interior and Katherine tried to angle hers to give him more room.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “I’m used to it.”

“I could sit in your lap,” she offered playfully, more than ready to get back to their easy teasing of before.

He drew in a sharp breath. “Christ, do not say that.”

She waited for him to explain or flirt back. When he remained silent, she tried not to fidget. “Why not? I thought we were friends.”

“Friends do not sit on my lap.”

He was being evasive and she didn’t like it. Perhaps she just needed to ask him. I may be a dishonest man, but I promise to always be honest with you. So if she wanted something, she merely needed to ask for it.

“What if I want to be more than friends with you?”

Preston rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “Kat, I’m sorry. As fun as that sounds, it’s a terrible idea. I never should’ve encouraged it in the first place. Your instinct the other night was correct. It’s better if we keep our distance.”

Disappointment thumped in her ears in time with her heartbeat. “Why?”

“Because of your father. Because of this land on Twenty-Third Street. Because you’re an innocent woman who is looking for a husband. Need I go on?”

“Yes, I think you’d better. None of that mattered an hour ago. What happened?”