by Eliza Watson
“Get down from there.” Fiona shooed Hops off Erica’s lap, appearing disgusted with the cat’s display of affection.
“He’s fine,” Erica assured her.
“She.” Fiona scooped up the cat and held it possessively against her. She took a seat and placed the cat on her lap.
Erica smiled sweetly. “Sorry.”
“So, you mentioned in your video you studied in Paris,” Cassidy said, petting Barley lying by her side.
A reminiscent look filled Erica’s blue eyes. “I studied at the École des Beaux-Arts for a year. J’adore Paris. It’s my favorite—”
“Ever been to Ireland, have ya?” Fiona demanded.
“Yes, I have. My great-grandmother was from Ireland. I’ve gone there several times researching my family tree.”
Fiona eyed her suspiciously. “What was her name?”
“Katherine McGregor.”
“Hmph,” Fiona grunted. “Knew a McGregor family once. Nothing but trouble, the entire lot of ’em.”
Erica’s smile didn’t waver. “I doubt if it’s any relation; my grandfather was a deacon and my great-uncle was a priest.”
Fiona looked slightly discouraged yet not thoroughly convinced.
“Sounds like you travel a lot,” Charlotte said. “Will be rather difficult once you’re married and start a family.”
“Honestly, I’ve pretty much been everywhere I want to go. And I’m not certain I want kids.”
The staff looked mortified.
“You don’t want kids,” Charlotte whispered as if it was a mortal sin.
“Ryan doesn’t want kids either,” Cassidy said reluctantly.
“Bollocks. Ryan wants kids. Lots of ’em,” Fiona said with a definitive nod.
Alex stepped in and gave the woman a reprieve, asking questions and keeping the staff’s interruptions to a minimum. Over the next hour, Erica held her own. She drank two cups of Irish coffee without batting an eye and answered every question without missing a beat.
Alex walked her out, then returned. “She’s definitely a viable candidate.”
Cassidy reluctantly agreed. “Seems perfect.”
“Even a tin knocker shines on a dirty door,” Fiona said.
Charlotte nodded. “True, look what we have to compare her to.”
Hector and Charlie grumbled in agreement.
Her head was about to explode. “Listen, you guys won’t ever think anyone is good enough for Ryan. You haven’t selected one woman, and the show is in two days.”
“We’ve chosen a woman, we have.”
Cassidy’s eyes widened in surprise. “You have? Who?”
“We choose you.” Fiona gestured her coffee cup toward Cassidy, then drank to their decision.
“Me?” Why would they pick me?
“The only one good enough for our Ryan, ya are,” Fiona said as if Ryan and Cassidy had no say in the matter.
“You rescued Fiona from the guesthouse,” Charlie said. “She could have died.”
“You saved Barley’s life,” Charlotte added.
“Ya drink me whiskey coffee. Nobody drinks me coffee.”
Fine time to be telling her that. Her insides had been charred beyond recognition at this point.
“Erica drank it,” Cassidy countered. “Even after you topped it off with an extra shot of whiskey.”
“Only good thing about her, it was,” Fiona grumbled.
“You always come whenever I call,” Charlie said.
“We can count on you,” Hector said.
“And Barley wuvves you.” Charlotte reached over and petted the cat cozied up next to Cassidy.
“So do we,” Fiona said with a note of finality.
Cassidy fought back the tears forming in her eyes. The staff loved her? She glanced over at Alex, who smiled, nodding in agreement.
“But Ryan and I aren’t in love.” Even more reason to cry.
“Bollocks,” Fiona snapped. “Don’t be needing no sixth sense to tell me that.”
Not only was Cassidy going to lose Ryan but the staff as well. How had she let herself get so close to them? A sick, hollow feeling consumed her. She had to start distancing herself, and not merely from Ryan. It would make things much easier in the end.
“Well, forget it.” She surged from the couch. “Ryan and I are not getting married. I told you my three choices for the finalists. Take them or leave them, but you need to choose three tonight so Alex can contact them in the morning.”
Hopefully she sounded more convincing than she felt.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cassidy bolted out the back door onto the terrace, inhaling a lungful of refreshingly cool air. A shiver raced through her body, and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She fought the urge to turn around and run back into the warmth of the mansion, and to the people she’d come to care deeply about. A gust of wind blew off the lake, slapping her solidly across the face, stinging her tear-filled eyes.
Get a grip.
And get out of here.
Too late. Ryan’s Mercedes appeared through the clearing in the shrubs. The last person she wanted to see. She turned away, wiping the tears from her eyes. Taking a calming breath, she opened her eyes wide, hoping the wind would cause any remaining moisture to evaporate. On shaky legs, she walked down the steps, focusing on her car parked back by the pool. It seemed miles away with the slow, even steps she took to maintain her balance. She’d parked away from the terrace to provide plenty of space for the limo escorting the finalists. Ryan parked behind her and stepped from his car. He approached, and his smile enveloped her in warmth, yet she couldn’t stop trembling.
She attempted to plaster on a perky smile. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s only six. What if a woman was still here?” Her voice cracked, giving her away.
His smile slowly faded. “What’s wrong? The staff being unruly?”
She exhaled a ragged breath, on the verge of losing it. “Yeah, they are.” One of the things she loved about them. “They won’t agree on any of the candidates we interviewed.” They did agree they didn’t want any of them…except for her. She couldn’t do this any longer. “Consider this my resignation.”
His gaze narrowed, his eyes filling with panic.
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay on until The Dating Game is over. And I’ll refer you to a reputable wedding planning company.”
He shook his head. “That’s the least of my concerns. I don’t want you to quit.”
“I’ve already found several potential fiancées for you to choose from. You’ll be pleased with them.”
“If Erica Turner is one, I won’t be pleased with her.”
Her brow creased with confusion.
“She’s a nice woman, does a lot of good, but there is zero attraction between us.”
“But I’m never wrong about a couple.”
“No, you’re not. Because deep down, you know we should be together.” He stepped toward her, closing the distance between them, sheltering her from the wind blowing off the lake. Being cocooned between the mansion and Ryan made her feel safe. “It’s critical that the woman gets along with the staff. She can’t merely tolerate them but needs to genuinely care about them. Like if Fiona climbs a tree or locks herself in the guesthouse. You know how stubborn she can be. This woman has to be able to keep the staff in line. Keep me in line.” His tone was firm, but his eyes softened. “She has to be assertive. I never thought anyone could break my addiction to coffee. She has to be discreet, unlike Serena. So when she discovers a family secret, she won’t threaten to expose it unless she’s paid off.”
Oh my God. That’s what Serena had done? How could she have wanted to hurt the staff or Ryan? And why was Ryan telling her this now?
“Which leads me to the next quality. I don’t want a woman who’s only after my money.”
Cassidy swallowed hard. “Thought that’s exactly what you wanted?” she said softly.
“Things aren’t always how they appear. However, appearance is very important
to me.” He took another step, now just inches in front of her. “She needs to have this exotic, burgundy-colored hair.” He smoothed a hand down over her hair, then rested it at the base of her neck.
She stifled a moan and tried to keep her voice steadier than her trembling body. “Ah, I don’t think this is the best idea.” Major lie. She’d never had a better one.
He placed a finger to her mouth, then brushed it lightly across her lower lip, sending tingles to every erogenous zone in her body, including some she hadn’t known existed. Like behind her knees, which were shaking worse than her voice.
“And lips with just a hint of lipstick, that look so natural all I can think about is kissing them.” He leaned over and gently kissed her. He pulled back slightly, gazing into her eyes. “And gorgeous green eyes.”
Searching his eyes, she finally found her voice. “We may have a physical attraction,” she said, breathless, on the verge of self-combusting, “but that’s not—”
“I said assertive, not argumentative.”
He kissed her again. His soft kisses became more demanding, and passionate, as his tongue sought out every inch of her mouth. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. She melted into him. His erection hard against her, the warmth of their bodies penetrated their clothing.
She mustered up every ounce of resistance she had left and drew her head back slightly, staring at him through a haze of lust. “I’m really not a good match for you. I’m nothing like the woman you—”
“Need?” He smiled, and a dimple materialized, causing heat to zip through her body. “Are you saying I don’t need a beautiful”—he brushed a warm kiss against the crook of her neck—“sensitive, caring, compassionate woman? That I don’t need you?”
Hmm… When he put it that way, she was being quite unreasonable.
His cell phone went off at his waist. She leaned away, enabling him to answer it. He grabbed it and tossed it on the ground.
Whoa. She came before work?
He pulled her closer and slid a hand beneath her sweater, the tips of his fingers brushing her bare skin. Her breath caught in her throat. She glanced lazily over her shoulder at the light filtering from the mansion.
“What about…the staff?” she asked with little conviction.
“Nobody is expecting me.”
“What about The Dating Game?”
He gazed deep into her eyes. “I’m thinking it should be indefinitely postponed. I’ve been going out of my mind the past few days thinking about you here, trying to find me a wife. I’ve only seen one of these women, but I can’t picture myself with any of them. Only you.”
She went warm all over. Now that he wasn’t her client, that was one less reason not to make love to him. And she really didn’t care about the other reasons.
He undid the top button on her green sweater, undressing her with his eyes. “You wear too many clothes.”
“I think that’s about to change.” She snatched his hand from her sweater and whisked him over to the pool cabana.
How was that for being assertive?
The wooden cabana was dark inside except for a faint sliver of dusk peeking through the bottom of the door. Ryan stripped off his jacket and tossed it on a chair. She went to undo his tie, but he grasped her hand.
“You first,” he said, voice heavy with desire. “I’ve been wanting to see more of you since that dress you had on at the benefit.”
He slowly unbuttoned her sweater, then slid it off, never taking his eyes from her pink lace bra. He traced warm feathery kisses along the top of her breasts. He unclasped her bra in one swift motion and slid it off.
Her breath caught in her throat as he drew her closer.
There was no turning back.
* * *
She’d made love to Ryan.
She’d made love to Ryan.
She’d made love to Ryan.
No matter how she said it, it didn’t seem real as Cassidy climbed the stairs of the funeral home. The scent of his cologne lingering on her skin was the only physical evidence it hadn’t merely been an incredible, mind-blowing dream. It had been way beyond a mere physical connection. Something she’d never experienced with Nick or any guy. And would never experience again, except with Ryan.
“Hey, how’d it go today?” Lucy called after her, stepping from the kitchen.
She’d walked right past the kitchen and into her bedroom without even noticing Lucy. “Great.” She fought the urge to scream, I just made love to Ryan.
“You’re all flushed. Are you feeling okay?”
“Mm-hmm.” She brushed a hand across her cheek, her body still on fire. She wasn’t really with it, but something was different about Lucy. Then it hit her. She had on a purple dress. Not a stitch of red, white, or blue. “What’s with the dress?”
“Kenny and I are going to dinner.”
“I mean, it’s purple.”
“Oh that.” Lucy sighed. “My plan to feng shui my business to success is complete. I don’t have time to be more successful right now. I’m never going to have time to start a family.”
“Get a partner or some more investors. Like Ryan. He seems genuinely interested in your company, and tea has done wonders for him.” She smiled, and her cheeks flushed at the mere mention of his name.
“What’s with the goofy grin?”
Cassidy shrugged.
Lucy’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God. You guys had sex!”
“Shhh.” Cassidy slapped a hand over Lucy’s mouth. If Kenny heard, he’d tell her she shouldn’t be boffing a client. Of course, Ryan was no longer a client.
Lucy’s gaze skittered around as if she didn’t know where to begin. “Where did it happen? At his condo? His office? A hotel? The mansion?”
“The pool cabana.”
“Here you were looking for some woman similar to Ryan, and it turns out to be you. See, opposites attract.”
She cringed at the cliché.
“Well, it’s true. Look at Kenny and me. Could we be any more opposite? I’m all about living; he’s all about dying. But none of that matters when he’s my soul mate. Knew it the first time we saw each other at that funeral.” Lucy had a dreamy look on her face, then came back down to earth. “So, when will you be getting married?”
Married? Whoa. They’d just made love for the first time.
However, Ryan had to marry someone. If she married him, how could she be sure that he loved her, that it wasn’t just for the money? He’d made love to her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. Yet he hadn’t said he loved her. She hadn’t said it either.
“He doesn’t have to get married for six months. There’s no rush.”
Lucy shook her head vigorously. “Don’t go freaking out on me. You are so marrying this man.” She rushed from the room and returned moments later. She set Cassidy’s wedding album on the bed. It was intact except for the missing photo on the front of her in the wedding dress.
“Thought you burned it.”
“If I burned this thing in the crematory, there wouldn’t even be ashes left.”
Cassidy glanced over at the dove urn on the dresser top. “Then what’s in there?”
“Nothing.” She opened the album to the invitation samples. “Here, pick one.”
“I don’t want—”
“Pick one,” Lucy demanded.
Cassidy let out a frustrated sigh, her gaze locking on Ryan’s black-and-white framed photo of the Eiffel Tower. Somehow, rather than making its way to the mansion, the photo had made its way to her wall. An accordion tune reminiscent of Paris played in her head as she envisioned her and Ryan standing beneath the Eiffel Tower, kissing. His hands caressing her—
“Pick one,” Lucy demanded, transporting Cassidy back to her bedroom.
“I don’t want a big wedding. I want…to elope.” To get married at Ryan’s home in France.
“Elope? After all this”—Lucy gestured toward the album—“you want to elope?”
&n
bsp; “The wedding isn’t what matters.”
“I wouldn’t make that the motto for your new company. Wouldn’t be great for business.”
“I don’t need a fairy-tale start to my life with Ryan.”
Lucy’s expression turned dreamy, and she slipped an arm around Cassidy’s shoulder. “Yeah, cuz your life is going to be a fairy tale.”
“No, it’s going to be the real thing.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“You’re sure in a good mood this morning.” Melanie set a cup of tea on Ryan’s desk.
He couldn’t seem to wipe the dumb-ass grin he’d been wearing since last night off his face. He hadn’t felt this optimistic and passionate about life since he’d been accepted into the minor leagues. Hell, making love to Cassidy had beaten that hands down. Even making it to second base with Cassidy would beat a home run in baseball.
“You must be psyched about The Dating Game tomorrow.”
“There’s not going to be a game.”
“Why not?” she asked, voice filled with concern.
“I already found a woman, no sense going through the motions.” Except it was stipulated in his aunt’s will. Hopefully Alex could find a way around it. Or Cassidy would just have to become the only finalist.
Melanie’s face lit up. “I knew it would work.” Her gaze darted to the black leather couch.
He eyed the couch. “What would work?”
Her expression became pensive, brown eyes narrowing behind her black rectangular glasses. “Guess there’s no harm in telling you now.” She walked over to the couch and lifted a cushion, revealing flakes of something and a pink…thong.
“Why are there panties in my couch?”
“The thong is Cassidy’s. The tea leaves were my idea. They’re to help attract love into your life.”
Cassidy had confided in Melanie about being his matchmaker? That definitely violated her confidentiality agreement. Yet at the moment, he was more interested in the thong.
“The thong is Cassidy’s?” He crooked a finger.
“Well, not actually hers, but she hid it there.” She handed him the pink panties with feathers on the front.
It was definitely hers now. He couldn’t wait to see her in it so he could take it off her. He massaged the silky material between his fingers, imagining sliding it down Cassidy’s legs. Glancing over at Melanie, he found her watching him with interest. He opened his desk drawer and dropped the thong inside.
