BACK IN HER own suite, Bonnie dumped everything on the floor, checked to make sure the bandage was still secure on her heel and collapsed onto the chaise. My pleasure. Those two words had been loaded with double entendre … right? She was often accused of being too naïve, too innocent. And it was true, dirty jokes often went over her head, and she rarely caught on when innuendos were fired in her direction. Yet even she couldn’t miss the sexual heat burning in Theo’s reply. And if she had, there was no mistaking the fire sparking in those blue eyes. He wanted her.
The knowledge made her tingle all over, even more than his dimples.
But not as much as his kisses.
Bonnie leaned back, staring up at the hotel ceiling. She’d kissed him. Tasted him. And he had tasted sweet and spicy—tart. As good as she’d imagined. Better. Like the lemon icing Mom frosted gingerbread with at Christmas.
And then he’d kissed her back. Bonnie pressed her bare thighs together, squeezing her legs tightly closed. What if he’d kept kissing her? Her hand had been on his belt buckle. What if they hadn’t stopped, if he hadn’t pulled away? Would she have let her hand drop lower? Her mouth went dry as she shut her eyes, imagining what she might have found if her fingers had continued to explore that particular piece of British territory.
A blast of Spice Girls interrupted her very specific and very inappropriate speculations. Bonnie rolled off the chaise and dug her phone out of her purse. “Hey, Cassie.”
“So, how did it go?”
It took Bonnie a moment to realize Cassie was referring to her meeting with the Cambridge people. If what happened last night felt like forever ago, tea at the Drake this afternoon seemed to have happened years ago. Her life was taking so many twists and turns, she’d aged a decade in a day. “Fine. Great.” She filled Cassie in on the details.
“You’re taking it? Fantastic!” she squealed. “Oh, Bonnie, I’m so happy for you. I knew you were perfect for the job.”
Joy and pride were reflected in Cassie’s voice, and Bonnie felt a deep tug of affection for her best friend. And guilt too. Theo was right. She needed to tell Cassie about what happened.
As if reading her mind, Cassie asked, “And Gabe is totally cool with this?”
Again, Bonnie screwed her courage to the sticking place. Channeling Lady Macbeth was exhausting. “Gabe really doesn’t have a say.”
Cassie laughed. “Right. Okay. Very forward thinking of you, but you know what I meant, Bon. This was supposed to be a special summer for the two of you, right? Your time to reconnect and all that.”
“We broke up,” Bonnie burst out, unable to listen to any more about what was supposed to happen this summer. What’s past hope is past care, right? She realized now why Cassie hated that saying so much. It really didn’t help at all. “Cassie? Are you still there?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m … just in shock. Did you say you and Gabe broke up?”
“Yes.”
“As in you two are over? The engagement is off?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Bonnie. What happened?”
For the second time that day, Bonnie replayed the terrible details. “I caught Gabe cheating on me.”
“Wait, what? When?”
“Last night.”
“And you’re just telling me now?” Cassie’s voice rose. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“I wasn’t ready to talk about it.”
“Um. Okay,” Cassie said. “Did you kick him out?”
“No. I left.”
“Where are you? Did you go home to your parents’ place?” Cassie asked, then added, “You should have told me. That must have been a lot, to get back to the city in time for the meeting at the Drake.”
“I’m still in the city.” Bonnie took a breath. “Sadie hooked me up with her dad’s suite at the Waldorf.”
“Oh,” Cassie said, hurt weighing the word down. But good friend that she was, she didn’t say anything more. “Hey,” she said instead, her voice brightening. “You know what’s wild? Theo’s staying at the Waldorf too.”
“Yeah, I know,” Bonnie admitted.
“You do?” Cassie asked, surprised. She paused, and then repeated the question, drawling suggestively, “Oh, you do, do you?”
“Knock it off. We just happened to run into each other.”
“Uh-huh,” Cassie mocked disbelievingly. “Is that what they’re calling it now?”
“I’m serious. Actually, I ran into him at the Drake, and we walked back together.” Bonnie tactfully left out the part about her pathetic attempt to evade him at the hotel. And the kiss.
Cassie laughed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What’s so funny?” Bonnie demanded, knowing it would bother her incessantly if Cassie didn’t elaborate.
“It’s just … interesting, that’s all.”
“Don’t give me your Minnesota ‘interesting,’” Bonnie huffed. “I know what that means.”
Cassie laughed again. “No, really. I’m serious. I find it very interesting the two of you happened to cross paths like that.”
Bonnie rolled her eyes. An avid fan of romance novels, Cassie was always seeing meaning in things like this, the hand of destiny at work, blah blah blah. Not that Bonnie wasn’t guilty of doing the same. But Gabe was supposed to be her destiny. She was Anne, and he was her Gilbert. This wasn’t supposed to be how their story ended.
Only Anne hadn’t caught Gilbert screwing some blonde on Marilla’s quilt.
Her heart thudded in her chest as the reality of the situation gripped her. A sob ripped from her throat. Damn it, she was crying again.
“Bonnie?” Cassie’s concern was clear through the phone. “Bon? Are you crying?”
“No,” Bonnie lied.
“That’s it, I’m coming over,” Cassie said, her voice brooking no argument. “You’re in Sadie’s dad’s suite, right? The one we stayed in for her birthday?”
“Uh-huh,” Bonnie said, sniffling.
“Got it. See you soon. Should I call Sadie and Ana? Make it a girls’ night?”
“They’re busy doing family stuff. It’s Passover.”
“Oh, right. Okay, well just me and you, then. Still a girl’s night. I’ll bring chocolate.”
“And ice cream too?”
“Already planning on it.”
“Perfect.” She rubbed at her tear-streaked cheeks. “Thanks, Diana.”
“No problem, Anne.”
Bonnie smiled through her tears. Gabe may no longer be her Gilbert, but Cassie would always be her Diana. When Bonnie Blythe had met Cassie Crow for the first time in first grade, she’d known they’d be the best of friends. With initials like B.B. and C.C., how could they not? And when Bonnie had read L.M. Montgomery’s books a few years later in third grade, she knew she was right, and that she, with her head of frizzy red hair, was Anne Shirley, and Cassie was the dark-haired, dark-eyed Diana Barry, Anne’s best friend. Her bosom buddy. Sisters for life.
“You’re the best. See you soon.” Bonnie ended the call, her heart lighter.
Theo had been right. She was glad she’d told Cassie.
Much as he wanted to, after Bonnie left, Theo didn’t step into the hall to watch her make her way to her suite. Instead, he closed his hotel room door and pressed his face against it, thumping his forehead a few times. Maybe that would rattle things around up there, get him to focus on the tasks at hand. Tasks which did not involve an adorable redhead with freckles sprinkled across her knees like cinnamon sugar. He pushed away from the door and checked his watch. He had about an hour before the car arrived to take him to meet Camille.
He stripped off the soiled T-shirt and tossed it on the chaise, then hit the loo for a quick onceover on his face with the electric razor, glad he’d remembered to pack the power adapter. He rinsed his face, now smooth again, and reached for a towel. His damp shirt still hung over the rail. Theo pulled it down and examined it, pleasantly surprised to note it was perfectly clean. Wrinkled and wet, but clean. She’d managed to get the stains out.
The memory of her tear-streaked face made his heart lurch. That bloody friggin’ tosser. To make Bonnie cry like that. How could anyone hurt her so badly. Betray her? He wanted to kick the man’s arse and thank him at the same time. But he would do neither. It wasn’t his place.
Theo set the shirt aside, wishing he could set thoughts of Bonnie aside as easily. But unlike the stains she’d so tidily wiped away, the moment they’d shared couldn’t be erased. As he began to pull on his formal wear, he acknowledged he didn’t want to erase it. He didn’t regret the kiss. Would do it again if given half the chance. If he was honest, he hoped he’d get that chance.
Was it wrong that he was preparing to spend the evening with one woman while wishing he could be with another? Did that make him no better than Bonnie’s jackass fiancé?
Ex-fiancé. He rubbed a hand over his face. Your point, mate? She might be free, but he wasn’t, not really. Right now, he had to focus. He was here on family business. Theo checked his watch. Thirty minutes.
Doing up his tie, the familiar sensation of being choked by his future began to creep in. But for once, the prospect didn’t seem quite as suffocating. While he wasn’t exactly looking forward to this evening, Theo realized he wasn’t dreading it. Camille was pleasant, well-spoken. Aside from the awkwardness when he’d behaved like a buffoon once he became aware of Bonnie’s presence in the tea room, he’d enjoyed their little “reunion” this afternoon. His mother had been smart to arrange it, not that he’d ever tell her so.
He could see the wisdom in her latest choice in quarry. As far as chess moves go, this one was savvy indeed. The Fairfax family did not have as high a standing in the peerage as the Whartons, nor did they own vast estates. But they were well-respected, their holdings were secure, and more to the point, profitable. Very profitable. Theo wasn’t sure how big a piece of the pie Camille was entitled to, but he knew his mother well enough to be sure if she’d sent him here to play escort, it was a generous slice.
Regardless of his personal feelings, on a purely objective level, Theo could see the advantages to this match. Beyond the financial gain, Camille would make a fine duchess. She understood the duties and responsibilities of the role, had grown up navigating the same social circles. And unlike many of the spoiled little heiresses his mother had paired him up with in the past, Camille was, well, nice. She’d seemed genuine. Easy to talk to. Smart, even. And again, on an objective level, he could admit she was attractive too, if in a pale British rose sort of fashion.
Yes, but are you attracted to her?
Refusing to dwell on that question, Theo straightened his suit jacket, adjusted his sash and ducal crest, and manned up. It was time to go.