Chapter Nineteen

James scrubbed a hand through his hair as he drove up the dark road toward the family house. He’d intended to tease—or maybe shock—Andrea from her sudden panic. He had just overestimated his own self-control when it came to her, or maybe he’d underestimated the sheer force of the attraction that crackled between them. His words about keeping his promises had been as much a reminder for him as for her.

The more he learned about her, the harder it was to stick to the surface-level flirtation he had intended. She was like no other woman he’d met: sharp, driven, successful. He’d genuinely enjoyed every moment he’d spent in her company. Every once in a while, he got a sense of how wicked her sense of humor could be if she’d just let it loose.

He smiled again at how she’d handled Bree. Some women would have instantly gone on the defensive, but Andrea had just watched her like one would view a child with a tendency to exaggerate. Her sultry tone and private look had shut down the nosy woman altogether. He admired a woman who kept her composure.

He’d shattered that composure tonight, no doubt about it. It wasn’t just professional considerations that kept her from acting on her feelings, though. Each detail she revealed hinted at some terrible hurt in her past, and they all had to be wrapped up together. He’d be willing to bet Logan had been some sort of celebrity, someone in the public eye. Did he have something to do with the end of her promising performance career? Was he the reason she harbored a phobia about public scrutiny?

James realized he’d been idling in his aunt’s driveway for several minutes and shut the car off. He shouldn’t have come here. Serena would take one look at his face and know exactly what he was thinking. At least Ian’s car was missing, or he would have turned around straightaway. His sister’s teasing was one thing. His brother’s disapproval was quite another.

James let himself into the house. Light flickered from the television, illuminating the living room in staccato bursts. Serena lay curled up beneath a blanket on the sofa, watching some Scottish drama.

“Emmy and Max in bed?” he asked, shrugging out of his jacket.

“Just.” Serena leaned over and clicked on the lamp. “Did you have a good time?”

A smile crept onto his face. “It was nice.”

“I know that look.” Serena was smiling too. “I’d say it means you got a good-night kiss.”

“No, I promised her I wouldn’t kiss her.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“I’m wondering the same thing myself.” He sank down on the sofa and propped his feet on the coffee table. “I just don’t want her to feel forced. I want her to make a conscious decision, not just get wrapped up in the moment.” Though he wasn’t above helping that decision along a bit.

“My brother is growing a conscience?”

“Don’t say that. You make me sound like some awful lothario.”

“No, I know you’re not. But Jamie . . . you break hearts without meaning to. You always have. You stick around until things get too serious, and then you’re gone, on to the next one. Look at Bree. You dated, what, ten years ago? She’s still carrying a flame for you, if you didn’t know.”

“Oh, I’m aware of that. We ran into her tonight at the restaurant.”

Serena grimaced. “How’d Andrea take it?”

“She was brilliant. Shut Bree down without ever losing her smile.”

“I can see why you like her, then,” Serena said with a chuckle. “I’ve been wanting to take Bree down a peg for years.”

“Andrea’s different,” James said slowly. “She’s strong and independent, polished . . . and yet completely fragile. I’m afraid if I move too fast, she’ll shatter.”

“Doesn’t seem to me like you have a lot of time. Saturday’s coming quickly.” Serena twisted the blanket pensively. “Could you love her, do you think?”

“It’s a bit early to be throwing that word around, isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. Could you? Given time?”

“You mean the time we don’t have?” He arched an eyebrow, but his sister knew his diversionary tactics too well to be fooled. “Maybe.”

Serena gave him a reproachful look, and he held up his hands. “What do you want me to say? I’m not pledging my undying devotion to a woman I’ve known for three days. But could I see this turning into something more? Yeah. I could.”

Serena was silent for a long stretch, and he sensed he wouldn’t like what she was going to say next.

“What does she believe in, Jamie? Do you even know?”

“She wears a cross. She doesn’t flinch when I mention spiritual things, but she’s not all that comfortable with discussing it. I think she’s had some bad experiences.”

Serena patted his shoulder, the picture of the older and wiser sister, even though she only had two years on him. “Find out before you lose any more of your heart to this woman. You of all people know what happens when a relationship isn’t based on compatible values.” She rose from the sofa and tossed him her blanket. “There’s some shortbread in the kitchen if you want it.”

“I do. Your shortbread is the best.”

“It’s the only chance I ever get to show you up in the kitchen. I seize it when I can. Night, Jamie.”

James turned off the television and stared at the blank screen. His sister was right. He had been avoiding this question, but he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He needed to be sure he wanted to pursue this, because Andrea tightened her grip on him with each passing day.

He only lingered long enough to grab two of Serena’s biscuits. Then he traded the Audi for the Subaru and drove back to the hotel. His heart plummeted when he saw Ian’s vintage roadster parked out front of his cottage. Perfect timing. He pulled in beside it, turned off the ignition, and yanked the keys out more roughly than necessary.

Ian popped open his door and unfolded himself from the low-slung sports car. He looked as polished as always, even in trousers and a polo shirt, his wavy hair cropped into submission. Always professional. Always in control.

James didn’t look at him as he flipped through his key ring. “What do you want?”

Ian held up a large envelope. “Delivering Andrea’s contract for you to sign. Can I come in?”

“I don’t see why. I’ll take it now.” James held out his hand, but Ian made no move to surrender it. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

James left the door open, not looking to see if Ian followed. He tossed his jacket onto the bed and placed his keys and wallet in their usual place on the nightstand. The door clicked closed, the only indication his brother had followed.

“Where’s Andrea?”

“I would assume she’s in her cottage where I left her.” James crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his brother. “Why the sudden interest?”

Ian placed the envelope on the table and pulled out a chair for himself. “No need to get defensive. I was just asking.”

“I can’t imagine why I would get defensive. You talked to her about me? What happened to keeping business and personal lives separate?”

“She deserved to know.” Ian looked at him, his expression almost sorrowful. “She’s a nice woman. I thought she should be on her guard.”

Anger and humiliation tumbled around in his head. His brother thought so little of him that he thought he needed to warn Andrea? No wonder she had seemed so surprised when he admitted his reputation was mostly undeserved.

Then he sighed. Ian would never change. There wasn’t any point in trying. “I guess she didn’t listen. She decided to stay the week.”

“Serena told me.”

“So that’s the reason for this visit? Come to give me some brotherly advice? I think I can manage well enough on my own.”

Ian toyed with the edge of the envelope. “You know, you might think of someone other than yourself for once. Your behavior doesn’t just reflect on you, it reflects on all of us. Your family, the company, the charity.”

“What would you know about my behavior? When have you ever actually asked me anything? You’d rather accuse than learn the truth.”

“Fine, I’ll ask. Have you slept with her?”

He meant Andrea. The question made James feel nauseous. “Get out.”

Ian rose and placed the envelope on the table, its bottom lined up neatly with the table’s edge. “She’s too good for you, Jamie. If you had any sort of conscience, you’d let her go.”

The words struck him squarely in the chest, and his reply spilled from his mouth before he had time to think about it. “Like you let Grace go?”

Ian blanched, a sure sign James’s aim had been true. “We’re not talking about Grace.”

“No, but we should be. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? The woman you loved left you, and now you can’t stand to see me happy. Maybe you’re content pining over someone who’s never coming back, but I’m moving on with my life.”

Ian’s throat worked convulsively, and a muscle in his jaw pulsed. He pushed his chair back under the table, his movements measured, controlled. He spoke to the floor. “I have never once intentionally hurt you, Jamie.”

Ian strode to the door and let himself out, clicking it shut quietly behind him.

James stared at the exit until he heard the rumble of the engine and saw headlights arc across his windows. Then he sank into the chair Ian had just vacated, regret squeezing the air from his lungs.

Ian was right. Misguided as he might be, he really believed he was doing James a favor. But James had purposely gone for the jugular, struck the place he knew was most tender. No matter how angry Ian made him, he didn’t deserve that.

James slumped back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. Was that how everyone saw him? Cruel? Lecherous? Untrustworthy? He saw the photos in the tabloids and the society pages, of course. Most reported the names of his companions with an air of amusement, almost as if it were a game to guess who he’d been seen with that week. The women didn’t mind. They were all struggling actresses or singers or dancers, glad for the publicity, even more appreciative of a nice evening out with a man who kept his hands to himself. He flirted, he teased, occasionally he kissed, but it went no further than that.

Oh, he knew what people assumed. They would assume those things without his help. After all, why wouldn’t a man take the opportunities seemingly presented to him?

Was that how Andrea saw him too?

James closed his eyes. It had only taken the merest mention of her to send fury boiling up. It was one thing for people to speak ill of him. It was another for them to make assumptions about her.

Like they made assumptions about the long string of women he had dated in London.

He groaned. He’d been a selfish git. How had it never occurred to him to think how his reputation reflected on them? No wonder Ian was so angry with him. It hardly mattered that he was doing nothing wrong if everyone thought otherwise. He’d been so focused on avoiding the speculation over his split with Cassandra, he’d never really considered how the alternative looked.

Or maybe he had, but until he met Andrea, he just hadn’t cared. She wasn’t like those girls, making her living onstage, accustomed to gossip. She was a businesswoman who desperately wanted to stay out of the public eye. She’d already told him she thought he was a self-indulgent playboy. She would be crazy to give him a chance.

He could say he didn’t care what she thought, but now he recognized it as a blatant lie.