The Bride Goes Rogue (The Fifth Avenue Rebels #3)(49)

Now she understood why the paintings were taken down. He’d been trying to help himself move forward. With Rebecca Whittier.

She forced herself to ask the question she dreaded. “Is it serious?”

“Yes.”

It had seemed so, based on the way he’d kissed the other woman’s hand, but hearing him admit it was like a punch to Katherine’s sternum. Tears burned the backs of her eyelids and she drew in a ragged breath.

“Kitty Kat, this is why I didn’t tell you,” he said gently, gesturing to her face. “That expression. I knew this would upset you.”

She tried to keep her voice even. “You are already trying to replace her.”

Daddy closed his eyes briefly as he grimaced. “I could never replace her, but life marches on. I don’t wish to spend the rest of my time here alone.”

A tear slipped out of Katherine’s eye and trailed down her cheek. “Then why didn’t you tell me? Why keep this a secret? I thought you and I were close, and now I find out you’ve been keeping this from me for a year and a half! All these long hours at the office and business trips. Were they even real, or just excuses?”

“Now, Katherine,” her aunt said. “Your father is allowed to find happiness again.”

“Happiness he doesn’t want me to share in, obviously.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said. “I thought it might be easier for you to hear once you were married and settled.”

“I suppose that’s why you were eager to push me toward Preston Clarke.”

“That’s not fair, Katherine. I honestly believed the two of you would be compatible.”

“It would’ve made things easier for you, if I was out of the house. Right?” He didn’t answer so she braced herself. “Are you going to marry her?”

He didn’t meet her eye, instead straightening his place setting. “I don’t know.”

Another lie? How was she to know what to believe anymore? He’d only admitted to the relationship because he’d been caught. Otherwise, he would’ve continued to hide it from her, pretending and lying the whole time.

Pushing back from the table, she stood. “I’ve lost my appetite. Good night.”

In the corridor, she passed a large bouquet of orange blossoms. When she used to dream of her wedding, it was a huge affair filled with these delicate flowers, which were supposedly good luck for brides and symbolized fertility.

Now the green leaves and yellow-white blooms seemed to mock her.

Katherine grabbed the entire bouquet and held it out to the first footman she found. “Please, get rid of these. Give them to a housemaid, the cook, a stable boy . . . whoever. Just get them out of the house.”

“Of course, miss. Anything else?”

“Yes. I must send a cable, then I’ll need a hansom.” She couldn’t stay in this house one second longer.





Chapter Fifteen




Preston paced back and forth, smoking his second cigarette. The worn floors creaked beneath his shoes, his worry mounting with each minute that passed. Katherine had cabled and asked to see him immediately downtown. He wasn’t certain why the rush. Had something terrible happened?

Or was she tired of waiting to hear from him?

He should have reached out after their carriage ride, of course. Ignoring a problem didn’t make it go away, and Preston was not known for avoidance. He preferred to confront issues directly. So, why was he dreading the moment she arrived?

I want to see her again. I shouldn’t, but I do.

He wanted more of her smiles, more of her laughter. More of her teasing and definitely more of her kisses. He just plain wanted more.

He shouldn’t, though. Not only had he promised Kit, but this was a terrible idea. For all Katherine’s talk of living independently, she was an innocent from a High Society family. Nothing would ever change that, and her future included a husband and children and summers in Newport.

Her future definitely didn’t include an affair with an unscrupulous bastard like him. But Christ, how he wished it did.

Thank her for the paintings and send her on her way.

Yes, that seemed like a fine idea. Anything else was impossible.

A knock sounded and he stabbed his cigarette out in a crystal dish. When he answered, Katherine stood on the threshold, and he drank in the sight of her. She was gorgeous, a natural beauty without cosmetics and embellishments, and her brown hair was pinned up to draw attention to the low neckline of her dress. The soft swell of her breasts teased from behind the cloth, and a lash of possessive need whipped through him, causing gooseflesh to erupt all over his skin.

Instead of waiting for an invitation, she slid past him, her body brushing over his in the most provocative way. The smell of her—lilacs and sunshine—trailed her into the tiny apartment. He closed his eyes, needing a second to collect himself. God, he was pathetic. Already he was on edge—and she’d barely arrived.

When he was ready, he closed the door and faced her. “I was surprised to get your note. Is there something—?”

One second she was across the room, the next she was in his arms, kissing him. He suddenly forgot what he was going to say.

Katherine’s mouth was warm and insistent, almost desperate, as her lips moved over his again and again. He could barely think, his mind focused only on her, the taste of her mouth and the press of her body against his. He kissed her harder, sliding his tongue into her mouth, savoring the slick haven as desire unfurled in his belly.