“I could do that.” He too feigned a casual attitude when all he could think of was tussling with her on the mats of his workout room. Physical, indeed. “I have a room in my house dedicated to working out. We could do it Friday night after work.”
Finally she turned her blue gaze on him. “That would be great. I take it yoga pants and a T-shirt would do as workout gear?”
He nodded. He’d seen her in just such an outfit and looked forward to seeing it again. In fact, he’d already held her in his arms while she wore it. The next time there wouldn’t be chaperones around when he wrapped his arms around her. In the name of teaching, of course.
“Right. Friday night works,” she said with a firm nod. “Go straight from the office?”
“Bring a bag with a change of clothes and we’ll be set. I’ll feed you dinner after.”
Courtney smiled at him, brilliant and blinding. His breath stilled in his lungs for a long moment.
The sun dipped behind a building, sending the terrace into shade, and he saw Courtney shiver. The warmth had gone the way of the sun as a breeze raced down the river.
“Let me help you get the dishes inside.” He stood, then helped her push back her chair.
“Thanks. We can do coffee, or tea, inside.”
Between the two of them they gathered the dishes and toted everything into the kitchen. The utter domesticity of sharing such a mundane chore with a woman was far more thrilling than he’d ever imagined.
“If you’d go secure the cover on the grill,” Courtney said, “I’ll get the dishwasher loaded.”
There was no extra food to put away. Everything she’d made had been perfectly proportioned and exquisitely tasty. Steak wrapped in bacon, topped with Stilton crumbles, baked potato, tossed green salad. Basic food, standard American steakhouse menu, but still better than anything he’d ever tasted along those lines before.
The cover went on the grill easily enough, and he’d just entered the kitchen when the in-house phone rang.
“You expecting anyone?” he asked.
Birdie shook her head as she finished drying her hands. “Only you.”
“Want me to answer?”
“Sure.” She gave him a brilliant smile.
The phone buzzed again, and Oswald lifted the receiver. His greeting was met with silence and then a chuckle he recognized.
“Larry? What are you doing here?”
“I was going to ask you the same, my dear boy,” his uncle replied. “I can see neither of us wanted to leave Birdie on her own tonight.”
“It’s always an adjustment. Want to come up?”
“Not if it’s going to cramp your style. I’ll take my carton of cookie dough ice cream home with me.”
Hell yes it would cramp his style, but Larry as a chaperone was probably a very good thing right now. Oswald was thinking thoughts, imagining things he shouldn’t. More than once he’d wanted to drag Courtney’s chair over to him and pull her into his lap. He didn’t want ice cream; he wanted Courtney’s cream for dessert.
Courtney’s hand landed on Oswald’s shoulder. “Larry?”
“He has ice cream,” Oswald said.
A wide smile brightened her face again. “Let him come up.”
Of course she couldn’t say no to ice cream. “Come up. She’s already getting the bowls out.”
Sounding particularly pleased with himself, Larry responded, “On my way.”
Oswald hung up, cracked open the door a bit, enough he wouldn’t have to wait for the knock, then followed Courtney back into the kitchen.
“Coffee or tea?” she asked him.
“With ice cream, coffee.”
“Right. Half caf, it is then.”
Half caf. The woman needed some schooling, but not tonight. It was like saying half-hard, a state no man wanted to suffer. All or nothing, and he didn’t want to be sporting a full-on right now.
“What can I do to help?”
By the time Larry let himself in, the coffee maker was gurgling out the last stream. The bowls and spoons were out, the cream and sugar on the dining room table, and something along the lines of mellow rock played from the speakers.
The intimate setting allowed Larry to tell the stories Oswald preferred to keep private. Like a proud parent, Larry rolled out the stories of Oswald’s early days living with his uncle. The stories of scrapes at school. The academic and sporting awards. The first social events and the sometimes disasters as Oswald learned the ways of a different world from what he’d known.
Courtney laughed and cooed in the right places. Sometimes he’d look up from his coffee to see her gaze firmly on him. He also was privileged to see a softer side of her. The one that reminded him of her mother. At the thought of Courtney round with child or rocking an infant in her arms, his heart pinched. Why she wanted to run the company, he didn’t know. She was far more suited to being a wife and mother. And wasn’t that sexist of him, he who claimed to be a feminist? Let a woman set her own course, and all that. Girl power, rah-rah-rah.
At last Courtney delicately hid a huge yawn. “I’m terribly sorry. It’s not the company.”
Oswald glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s the hour. We’re going on midnight here.”
“And oh how the hours flew by,” she said. “Thank you both for the company this evening. I really wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself, to tell you the truth.”
Larry reached over and patted her hand. “We’re here anytime you need company. I promised Court I’d check up on you from time to time. And if you ever need an escort to an event, consider me among your list of available arm candy. I’ll understand if you pick the lad first.”
Oswald rolled his eyes. Like he’d give his uncle a chance to be Courtney’s escort anywhere. Only, he supposed, if he had to be out of town, Larry would be better than half a dozen men he could think of.
“Which reminds me, there’s a horse racing thing this weekend,” Oswald found himself saying. He originally hadn’t planned to attend, but what the hell. “It’s King George weekend, very fancy, two days. Held at Ascot. You’ll need an appropriate outfit for each day, complete with hat.”
Courtney’s eyes crossed adorably. “Mom hired a stylist to help me. I’m sure I’ll come up with something fascinating to wear. That’s assuming jeans, T-shirt, and cowboy boots aren’t appropriate.”
Larry managed to get a napkin in front of his face before spewing coffee everywhere. “I’d pay you twenty-thousand just to see that. Can you impersonate a rodeo queen?”
Now Courtney laughed. “No, sorry, only once had cowgirl boots growing up. I was quite little when they took me to a rodeo. It wasn’t something we did often.”
“Ah well, it’s a good fantasy,” Larry said. “Maybe next time I visit California we can take one in. Live like the wild west for an afternoon.” He stood and stretched. “These late nights are finally getting to me. Growing old isn’t for the meek, I tell you.”
Oswald shared an eye roll with Courtney. “You aren’t old, Larry.”
“That’s what you think. Well, I’m off. Be good, chooks.”
Courtney was smiling as they cleared dishes once more and the front door closed behind Larry.
“Chooks. Chicks, right? As in baby chicks?”
“Or just chickens, but yeah, basically.”
“I’ve heard it often enough, just never really took the time to figure it out.”
Courtney finished putting the few dishes in the machine and reached for a towel to dry her hands.
“So, an Ascot weekend? Sounds like fun. What do I need to know?”
“I’d suggest flat sandals.”
“Right. Long day, walking on grass, picnic?”
“Yes, but it’s fun to people watch. Might see royals and celebrities, if you’re interested in such things.”
“Who doesn’t want to get a look at Harry up close?” She winked at him. “Although gingers aren’t quite my thing.”
The temptation was too great to resist. He backed her against the bench and trapped her there with a hand on each side of her. “What is your thing?”
The look she gave him was direct. “It seems to be tall, reserved, Englishmen who wear glasses. Very hot.”
Oh he was hot all right. “Hmm, and I seem to have developed a thing for innocent young women with blonde hair, blue eyes, and golden tans.”
Courtney laughed. “That’s at least the third time someone commented on my California tan. Something that is already fading away. Soon I’ll be as pale as anyone here.”
“No, you’ll always be golden.”
“Are you…will you…” Courtney cleared her throat and looked down with a pretty pink flush warming her cheeks. “Ah, that is to say…” She blushed deeper.
“What? You can ask me anything.”
She reached out a hand and toyed with one of the buttons on his shirt. “I don’t know how to ask this question without sounding like an idiot.”
Oswald moved closer, his body touching hers. “Ask me.”
Once more she cleared her throat. “Are you planning on…oh hell…” She cast her gaze heavenward, drew in a deep breath, then looked down again, both hands now fiddling with the button. “Are you staying tonight?” The words rushed out of her as she stared at his throat.
The air stalled in his chest. Oh how he wanted to stay. His memory immediately began replaying the night of her brother’s wedding. Courtney on the bed. Naked. Ready for him. Crooking her finger, calling him to her…
But no, he wouldn’t do that. Not tonight. Not any night soon.
“I want to,” he said quietly. He touched her chin with a finger and gently lifted until her gaze met his. “I want to very much, but no. I’m not staying tonight. There are so many reasons why I can’t. Won’t. I don’t know how long I can hold out, but right now, I can’t. I shouldn’t have touched you in San Francisco as it was.”
She lowered her eyelids and a tiny moue of disappointment graced her lips. “Okay. I just wasn’t sure if that’s why you hung back. I mean, after that night, I thought…”
“I know. And right now I want to,” he repeated. “I can’t tell you how much. But not tonight, Courtney. I owe your family too much to jump on you the second you’re left alone. I’ve sworn to be your protector, your mentor, and that’s a pretty big vow. I won’t dishonor it, or you, by taking advantage. There are so many other reasons, but I won’t list them now.” Maybe he needed to list them to remind himself.
When she tried to turn away from him, he stopped her by cupping her cheek. “Oh Courtney, there’s so much more for you to learn. You’re just starting and you deserve the right to have fun and explore your world. I’m here to help you do that safely. I’ll do better than I did at the refugee event, I promise. That has to be enough. For both of us.”
“I’m not a little girl, Ozzie. You’re my mentor at work, but I’d hoped you’d be my friend outside of it.” A trace of hurt lingered in her eyes with a healthy dose of confusion. He hated that look, but knew she had so much to learn, see, do before he could let her choose him. As, he strongly suspected, he’d already chosen her. Most unwisely.
“I know you’re not a little girl, but this world is very new to you. I’d be doing you a disservice by not letting you experience it your way.”
She pinched his side. “Then let me choose my way without the patronizing words.”
She had a point, but it was all the defense he had right now. By keeping her innocence in mind, hopefully he could keep his distance. Remember why he needed to.
“Kiss me good night and I’ll be on my way.” He lowered his lips to hers and let himself indulge once more, losing a bit more of his self control as she eagerly met him halfway.
Chapter 17
Bemused, and more than a little frustrated, Birdie enjoyed the kiss, then walked Oswald to the door. He backed her into the wall and kissed her again, leaving her wilted and breathless when he told her to secure the door behind him. His footsteps didn’t move away until she’d set the locks. She stayed there, ear to the door, listening until she heard the elevator doors close and begin to move downward.
He’d warmed her up, then walked away. Okay, so it had been obvious he did so reluctantly, but still. He’d left. And that hurt a little, along with intriguing her.
Quiet, stern, stiff Oswald wasn’t nearly so stuffy as she’d assumed. The man had layers, as evidenced by Larry’s stories and their conversation over dinner.
And now she had two dates with him. Friday night to learn a little self defense, and races at Ascot over the weekend. She’d have to look that up on the internet, but not tonight.
She set the alarm, turned out lights, and headed for bed wondering what her parents would say if she adopted a cat. A living, breathing creature to keep her company. Maybe then she wouldn’t beg Ozzie to spend the night. She drifted off dreaming of curling around Ozzie like a cat purring in satisfaction.
The next day she woke feeling flustered and frustrated, a feeling she tried to dispel on her brisk walk to the offices and buried under a mountain of filing.
On her lunch hour she called the stylist and made an appointment to meet at Harrod’s. Dad had left her with a handful of credit cards and told her to use them to fill out her wardrobe, decorate her room, or eat out as her heart desired. She also had a car, a sporty little SUV, she could easily maneuver around town or drive out to the country house as she wished.
While nibbling at the salad she’d brought from home to eat, she contemplated her current social life. What she didn’t have were local friends. The ones she had on Facebook all seemed so distant now.
What she needed was a girlfriend to hang out with. She’d had a few friends in college, more in high school, but she didn’t know anyone here as of yet. If Deirdre and her posse were who she was supposed to befriend, then London was going to get lonely. Maybe Ozzie would introduce her around more over the race weekend. Surely there were nice people who attended the social events it seemed she was now expected to show up at. If only Mom and Dad had stayed around another month…
No, another month of them in town wouldn’t have helped much. They were now in France, heading for Belgium, and the Netherlands, passing through Germany toward Denmark, before winding their way through Poland, crisscrossing Germany, then back into France and Paris. They had a twisty itinerary they were following, including Austria, Italy, Spain, and Portugal. They’d be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, as would Meilin and Drew, before heading into Greece and Turkey. From there they’d hit South Africa and a few of the countries on that continent. India, Australia, New Zealand, Indonesia, and the South Pacific were also part of their plans. They’d promised to fly her to China for a mini family reunion there.
Of course, still being the new kid at work, Birdie couldn’t afford more than a one week vacation sometime next spring. She had a ladder to climb, things to learn, and part of not being pegged as Daddy’s girl meant she had to concentrate on work and not be gadding about the world.
Reminded of work, she glanced at the clock and noted she had ten minutes left to her lunch break. Enough for a trip to the loo and refill of her coffee cup.
A part of her was irritated that her family all got to bounce around the world, but the bigger part of her knew if she was ever to be taken seriously at work, she had to do her best and learn everything she could.
At the end of what felt like an endless day, she stopped at home for a quick dinner and accepted a call from her grandmother.
“I’m in town,” Gran announced. “I hear you’re headed for King George Weekend at Ascot. I’m going as well. Do you know what you’re wearing?”
“Meeting the stylist in an hour.”
“Harrod’s, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll meet you there. One hour you say?”
“Yes.”
“Better yet, I’ll pick you up. Be downst
airs in forty-five.” The phone went dead.
“Love you too, Gran.” Birdie grinned and dug into the chicken casserole she’d found in the fridge. Cook had made her several in single portion containers, each one clearly labeled and stored in the freezer. If she didn’t want to, she didn’t have to cook for the next two weeks.
Being picked up by Gran meant riding in a Bentley with a driver. Martin as it turned out.
“Miss,” he said, while holding the door for her.
She gave him a cheeky grin and climbed in the back with the cranky old lady she adored.
“Any idea what you want? Where are your seats?”
“Clueless, Gran. Ozzie merely said he’d pick me up Saturday morning. Wear flats and something I could sit on a blanket in, if we choose to have a picnic.”
“Nonsense. My box has room for the two of you,” she said. “Tell him you’ll be joining me. Still, flat sandals, or something with a square or wedge heel, would be a smart idea if you go down to the paddocks.”
“Of course. Shall I text him now?”
“Yes. We’ll also tell him the color of your dresses once we have them picked out so he can match his tie.” Gran gave her a long look. “The weather is supposed to be sunny, so maybe a sundress so you can get some of your tan back. You should be sitting on the terrace as much as you can. Winter white will come soon enough. Maybe the weekend after we’ll go down to the house and get some sun there.”
Birdie made a non-committal hum. The idea had possibilities, but that didn’t leave room for going out dancing. Oswald didn’t seem like the type to go clubbing, so maybe she’d have to touch base with Phillip after all. That was more his scene.
By the time the store began closing, Birdie had three outfits, complete with matching hats, handbags, and shoes. The third was a spare in case of an accident, or could be used for another weekend. Surely someone would get married before summer’s end. Oswald also had photos of the dress colors, but not Birdie in the dresses. Gran declared that was a surprise for him.
Her Improper Affair Page 16
