Colin’s cool British accent floated over the general conversation, encouraging the group into the dining room for dinner. “I won’t pair you off to enter in a grand procession, no matter how much this scene looks like a modern BBC remake of Pride and Prejudice.” Despite his words, he tucked Alicia’s hand into the crook of his elbow and led her back to the paneled dining room that overlooked the bay, the others slowly filing after him.
“Shall we?” Russell turned and offered his arm to Kathleen, resisting the juvenile urge to flex his biceps as she curled her fingers around his arm.
“I think I’m starting to see why you two are friends,” she said, a teasing note in her voice.
“Standing next to him makes me look even more devastatingly handsome,” Russell said, his voice light. “It’s really the only reason I keep him around.”
Her index finger and thumb squeezed together in a brief pinch of his arm. “No comment. But you both seem to have the same gentlemanly instincts.”
This time, the word gentleman didn’t carry the same dampening effect it had when Alicia had said it earlier. The warm approval in Kathleen’s tone elevated the positive aspects of the word above its restrictive connotations.
“Well, most of the time,” Russell said.
“What do you mean?” Kathleen’s brows drew together as they entered the wood paneled dining room where smaller tables had been pushed together to create one long one. Russell drew back a chair for her. She seated herself and he bent over to whisper in her ear.
“Wouldn’t do to be too much of a gentleman all the time, necessarily.”
A knowing look passed across Kathleen’s face as he seated himself. “No. Too much consistency would be a bore.”
Russell settled himself into the chair beside her. “More like, too much having a pole up your ass is a total bore.”
Kathleen emitted a bark of laughter and covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So much for the serious professor.”
Russell picked up the napkin in front of him and laid it on his lap. “Serious professor is my day job. I’m on vacation and my friend’s getting married.”
“Good to know.” Kathleen’s gaze snagged on someone, her eyes lit up and she rose from her chair. “Wendy!” Stepping away from the table, she hugged a familiar-looking Black woman who had a tall East Asian man in tow. Pulling back from the embrace, she said, “Wendy, this is Russell. Russell, Wendy was our Lady Montague in Romeo. She shared a dressing room with Alicia and me, so we got very cozy.” She gestured at the man with her. “And this is her boyfriend, Kent.”
Russell rose to shake hands with the newcomers, noticing Wendy was giving Kathleen a conspiratorial look. “Russell, you say? A friend of Colin’s?”
Russell nodded and Wendy looked him over with interest. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you—finally.” She took Kent’s hand and led him to empty chairs at the other end of the long table.
Russell and Kathleen sat down again and Russell noticed her telltale blush had once again spread across her cheeks. “Just exactly how much did Alicia say about me that you both remembered?”
Kathleen pretended to study the menu, wishing she could bury her flaming face in the glass of ice water in front of her.
“Kathleen?”
Without moving her head, she cut her gaze sideways. He was looking at her full on, his face alight with curiosity and humor. “Either Alicia tells a very memorable story, or something happened,” he said.
Busted again.
Kathleen glanced at her friends. Alicia and Colin were sitting at the opposite ends of the table, their eyes locked on one another. Wendy was similarly engrossed with Kent. Her friends were going to be no help. Taking a deep breath, she said in a rush, “Alicia may have described you as good looking. I may have expressed an interest in being introduced to you. That’s all.”
“Hm. May have, huh? How come it didn’t happen until now?”
Kathleen put her menu down and turned to face him. “I started dating someone.”
The look in Russell’s eye went from curious to shuttered. “I see. Why isn’t he here?”
“It didn’t work out. We ended it a while ago.”
Russell nodded, the warmth that had fled in an instant starting to return to his expression. “Well. I’m glad that we finally did meet.”
“Me too.” The intensity of his gaze made her eyes drop to her menu.
He leaned toward her, his shoulder nudging hers. “Was she right?”
Startled, she looked back at him. “Right about what?”
“Her description.” There was humor in his expression, and a bit of cocky confidence. Maybe even a little uncertainty underneath it all.
“Maybe.” Kathleen clipped her lips together and looked at him with wide eyes, attempting to be the picture of innocence.
“Well, then.” He picked up his menu and perused it, brows lifted. “I guess if the jury’s still out I’ll have to ask you again later.”
Do, she thought as she considered what she wanted to order. She liked sparring with him. He wasn’t stuffy or pretentious.
And there was that appealing dimple advertising the smile he was unsuccessfully trying to suppress.
While the wait staff took the group’s dinner orders, Kathleen looked around the long table at the other guests. She hadn’t yet met Alicia’s sister Grace, but there was no mistaking the family resemblance between the sisters. Grace had all of Alicia’s sharp bone structure and light blond hair, but she was built on more petite lines. Her fine, blond hair was nearly shaved on one side and hung to her shoulder on the other. A ring pierced the septum of her nose.
On the other end of the table was a trio that could only be Colin’s family. His father was clearly the source of Colin’s height, but the older man was lanky where Colin was broad, and his pale blue eyes looked washed out compared to Colin’s deep brown gaze. Colin’s older siblings, a brother and sister, sparred with a teasing familiarity that wouldn’t be out of place in Kathleen’s own large family. Kathleen had a moment of envy for Colin’s sister’s dress: a hot pink silk shot through with embellishments of gold thread. The color made the woman’s skin practically glow.
Kathleen ordered, and as the waiters moved away from the table, Colin’s father rose to his feet, wine glass in hand. “I am not one for speeches, but I must speak today,” he said in his crisp accent as he looked around the table. “Tomorrow my son marries his beloved. I am so happy for him, as I know you all are.” Turning to Colin, he said, “And I know your mother would be very proud of the man you have become and the choices you’ve made. To my son and his bride.” The eyes of all the St. Cyrs were glossy, and Kathleen blinked at tears of her own as she saluted the couple with her glass for the second time.
She was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last time that evening.
“I am going to explode if I eat another bite,” Kathleen said, leaning back in her chair. The barest hint of the light, sweet fragrance she wore caught Russell’s nose for the umpteenth time that night. It was maddening, that elusive scent. It made him want to trace its source, to bury his face in the smooth column of her neck or the soft waves of her hair and drink it in in deep, hungry inhalations.
Which, he supposed, was the point.
“What if you have another sip?” he asked, looking at her half-full glass of wine.
“Well, that’s a different matter. I’d have to hand in my Irish card if I couldn’t hold my liquor.” She lifted her glass. “But with all the toasts that everyone has been making, it’s definitely taken an Irish capacity for drink to get through this dinner.”
She wasn’t wrong. And unless Russell missed his guess, she was also just on the far side of tipsy. Her eyes were bright and she was relaxed back into her chair, in contrast to her prior erect, careful posture.
“You’re not going to finish that?” Russell lifted his chin, indicating her half-eaten créme brulée.
“Ugh. I can’t. Good as it is.” Her hand cradled her stomach as she slouched further into the dining room chair, her auburn hair cascading over the back of the chair in loose waves.
“Hm.” Russell scooped up a tiny bite of the dessert, the caramelized sugar crust crunching against the edge of his spoon. To be honest, he was full to bursting as well. Nevertheless, he put the spoon in his mouth, his lips curving up as the creamy sweetness spread across his tongue.
“You like that, do you?” Kathleen’s eyes were sharp, looking from his mouth to his eyes. Maybe he was wrong about how much she had had to drink.
“I do.” Placing the spoon on the plate with a little more care than necessary, he turned with deliberation back to Kathleen. “Would you care to take an after-dinner turn on the terrace, fair lady?”
Kathleen’s lips rolled into her mouth, then spread wide in an inviting smile. She straightened in her chair, extending a hand, palm facing down, her fingers articulated in a gesture that looked old-world and elegant.
What is she playing at?
At something of a loss, Russell brought his open palm under hers, reassured when her fingers curled over his.
As long as we’re both playing the same game.
“Whoo.” Kathleen blinked when the cool night air hit her face. I had more to drink than I thought. Stepping carefully, she was chagrined to realize that her ankles wobbled a bit.
“You okay, Irish?” Russell’s hand moved to grip her elbow, supporting her.
“Yeah. The cold air made the wine go to my head.” For once, the darkness hid her stupid blush. Great going, Ace. Way to make a first impression. She remembered an acting teacher once giving a lecture about how playing a drunk was much more effective if you didn’t play it sloppy. Instead, he counseled the students to play hiding their drunken state, moving too carefully, articulating their words with exaggerated care. That was the key to an effective drunk performance.
Sad, but true. She was an excellent example of such a performance now.
Russell’s hand was warm and steady on her elbow. “Do you need to go back inside?” At least his voice didn’t sound judgmental.
“No, I think fresh air is exactly what I need.” She kicked off her shoes and bent over to pick them up, dangling them from two fingers. “Taking these off is probably a good idea, though.” The irregular stone terrace was gritty and cold against her feet, but a chill was preferable to a twisted ankle.
“Excellent.” Russell appeared to be considering the water as they moved across the terrace and onto the wide lawn that led to the bay.
“Do you like the water?” she asked.
“I do. I used to have a kayak. I enjoyed that a lot.”
She leaned forward, turning her head to try to catch his expression in the dim light. “Why don’t you have it anymore?”
He glanced at her, then looked at the water again. “The usual story. Moved out of a house and into an apartment after the divorce. Didn’t have space for it.”
Her heart thumped with what seemed like unnecessary force as she digested this new piece of information. “Oh. I—didn’t know you were divorced. I’m sorry.”
Russell waved his free hand, his other still gripping her elbow, radiating warmth and strength. “It was a long time ago. We were only married for two years.”
“Still…” Kathleen didn’t know if she should continue the conversation or just drop it. Either decision seemed wrong. To continue seemed like prying. To drop it seemed like she didn’t care. “Kids?”
He coughed softly. “No. Anyway. Enough about my past. Yeah, I like the water. You?”
Well. That was a definite wall. She took a deep breath, trying to choose her words carefully. “I guess. It’s pretty. I’m not sure how I feel about boats.”
He laughed at that. “Not sure how you feel?”
“I grew up in Annapolis. Cocky Naval Academy midshipmen can turn you off of anything.” Kathleen shrugged, a gesture that turned into a shiver as the cold grass against her feet and freshening breeze on her face seemed to meet in the middle of her in a chilly rush.
“You’re cold. We should go back.” Russell’s hand on her elbow tightened, turning her back toward the hotel, then released her. Before she registered what he was doing, his jacket was on her shoulders, the retained heat and the spicy, masculine scent of his body wrapping around her.
Pulling the garment more tightly to her, she sighed with pleasure. “Thank you.”
“Think nothing of it.”
“You really are a gentleman, aren’t you?”
“I do my best.”
Russell kept a wary eye on Kathleen as she picked her way across the lawn back to the hotel. She had been definitely wobbly when she first got outside, but seemed a bit better now. He still had his doubts about her current state of sobriety though.
And again, there were rules about that.
The dining room held only the waitstaff, clearing away the last of the dishes, the lights low. Glancing at Kathleen, he saw she still held his jacket close around her with one hand, the other still carrying her heels.
“Better?” he asked.
“Warmer, certainly. Where do you think everyone went?” Kathleen’s eyes scanned the dim room.
“Not sure.” Stepping away from her, he peered into the tiny bar next door. Some of the wedding guests were perched on the sofas and armchairs in the snug room—Colin’s brother and sister, his law partner Brandon and his wife Mari, a few others that Russell hadn’t met yet. Walking back to Kathleen, he said, “A few are in the bar. No Colin and Alicia though.”
Kathleen laughed. “Are you kidding? With the way they were looking at each other all through dinner? They’re shagging each other silly.”
Russell swallowed. Kathleen, her hair disordered from the bay breeze, barefoot, laughing, wearing his coat…was a short step in his imagination to Kathleen, her hair a tangle on the pillow, laughing, wearing nothing…
Stop it. Stop it now.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Did you want a nightcap, or…?”
“No nightcap for me.” Kathleen swallowed a yawn, her hand pressing against her mouth. “I was up ridiculously early.”
“What’s ridiculously early for you?”
She blinked sleepily. “Seven.”
He let out an inadvertent bark of laughter. “Seven is ridiculously early?”
Scowling, she swung her shoes at him, staggering a bit as her balance overcompensated. “Smarty. I don’t have a fancy television gig like Alicia’s that mostly shoots in the daytime. Or a class full of students in an eight A.M. class. Theater happens at night.” She blinked a little owlishly. “Mostly.”
“Fair enough. Let’s get you to bed, then.”
Kathleen’s eyebrows arched. “Oh. Is getting Kathleen to bed a joint project?”
If only. But that stumble and slow blink were dead giveaways. She was definitely intoxicated. “Let me see you to your room?”
“Think I’ve lost my way?” Kathleen turned toward the foyer with the barest of wobbles. Russell hurried to catch up with her, walked with her up the stairs and accompanied her to the door of her room. “This is me.” Turning to face him, Kathleen lifted her chin, her eyes scanning his face.
“I remember. And this is where I leave you,” Russell said with difficulty, his chest heavy with the effort of drawing breath.
“Really?” Her eyes clouded with hurt. “I…I thought…”
“I thought, too. But not tonight. You’ve had a bit too much wine.” Never had doing the right thing felt so difficult.
Her spine stiffened and her eyes sparked with sudden anger. “I’m the judge of that.”
Laying a hand on her cheek he said, “Yes. You’re the judge for you. But not for me. This wouldn’t be right. Not for me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Kathleen.” Brushing his thumb across her lower lip, he took another deep breath before turning away and walking back down to his own room, every step an effort.