The Radcliffes

by T. J. Kline

  Anna didn’t trust Wilhelmina Radcliffe in the slightest and was careful choosing how to word her response. “The feeling is mutual. I’m very appreciative—”

  “I’m sure you are.” Mrs. Radcliffe arched a disdainful brow. “I’d hate for you to mistake my grandson’s kindness as any sort of…” She paused, as if searching for the right term. Anna had no doubt this woman always had the exact word on the tip of her tongue. “Affection. You are from very different worlds and I’m afraid you have misconstrued his actions concerning you.”

  “Of course not, ma’am.”

  “Aren’t you just the smart girl? Saying all the right things.”

  Anna felt the disdain rising in her chest, threatening to choke her. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  Mrs. Radcliffe rose from the table. “I’ll be frank with you since there’s no sense in wasting each other’s time. I’m sure my grandson would love to have one last bit of fun before his wedding to Miss Maurier, but his fortune is well-protected. A florist such as yourself is no match for the likes of my lawyers.”

  “Mrs. Radcliffe, I hardly think—”

  Anna stopped as Stephanie rushed back into the room, her excitement evident in her pink cheeks and twinkling eyes. “Mrs. Dillard says she only has a few minutes, but that should be enough for us to know what we’re looking for at the flower market tomorrow, right?”

  “Run along, ladies.” Mrs. Radcliffe’s smile brightened as she turned her attention to Stephanie. “I’m meeting with my ladies’ group tomorrow, so I apologize, but I can’t join you.”

  “What a pity.” Stephanie leaned forward to press a quick kiss to the woman’s cheek.

  Anna clenched her jaw. It wasn’t a pity at all. Anna couldn’t wait to get away from the beast of a woman.

  Chapter 13

  Anna ran a brush through her auburn waves in an attempt to tame them but then gave up, letting them fall loose over her shoulders. Glancing at her reflection, she couldn’t help but wonder what Wilhelmina Radcliffe would think about her now, dressed casually in a dark maxi skirt, camisole, and denim jacket. She probably wouldn’t say anything, but she’d give Anna that look she had yesterday.

  Anna pushed thoughts of the miserable woman out of her mind. Today, she and Stephanie were venturing into Anna’s neck of the woods, to her favorite place in San Francisco, the Flower Mart. Hurrying into her kitchen, Anna filled a travel mug with coffee as she glanced at the clock on her stove. Mr. Remington should be arriving any second. Snatching a muffin, she slid her tote over her arm and ran out the door to find the car already idling in front of her building. Several of her neighbors peered from behind their blinds, curious about a limousine. When he saw her on the stairs, Mr. Remington slid from the driver’s seat to open the passenger door. Embarrassed by the attention, Anna ducked down and jogged toward the car.

  Coffee spilled from the mug onto her hand, scalding her. “Ow, shit!” She slid into the backseat, trying to wipe the liquid off her hand without getting it on her skirt. “Sorry, Mr. Rem—oh!” Gabriel sat across from her, an amused smile on his face. “What are you doing here?”

  “Stephanie is ill so she sent me in her place.” He reached for several napkins from the console beside him and handed them to her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She stared at him, hating the way her heart immediately began to flutter at his grin. This was a bad idea. Her brow furrowed as she asked Mr. Remington to let her out. She turned back to Gabe and said, “We should just wait until Stephanie is well. This is really something the bride should do.”

  “I assure you, Anna, I am fully capable of selecting flowers for the wedding, but if it would make you more comfortable…” Gabriel pulled his cell phone out, dialed, and then explained the situation to someone who could only be Stephanie on the other end.

  “Yes, she’s right here.” He held the phone out to Anna.

  Anna reached for it, careful not to let her fingers touch his. She didn’t want to subject herself to that sizzle of heat from his touch. Putting the phone to her cheek, she could feel the warmth from his body still lingering, as did his scent—clean, crisp, and slightly musky—making her think of dangerous seductions and sinfully delicious temptations.

  “Anna?” Stephanie’s voice sounded weak through the receiver, and guilt swept over Anna. “Gabe knows what I’m looking for. Please, go shopping today.” She coughed slightly. “I’ll make the final decisions tomorrow so you can place the orders.”

  Anna’s gaze slid to Gabriel, looking smug and far too attractive. “Okay,” she agreed hesitantly. “We’ll send you pictures of his selections.”

  “Perfect. And, Anna?” The bride-to-be sighed into the receiver. “Try to have some fun today.”

  Fat chance, Anna thought.

  She’d be too busy reminding herself that this was business, not pleasure. It felt good to be this close to Gabriel. Way too good.

  Gabe’s gaze slid over Anna as she disconnected the call with Stephanie. She still looked reluctant as she handed him the phone. He didn’t blame her for her hesitation. After his reaction to her in the backyard, being alone with her seemed a bit too dangerous to be prudent, but Stephanie wanted them to take this one thing off her shoulders. He had to help her. Besides, it wasn’t like he could tell her his reasons for not wanting to go. So he motioned for Remington to drive.

  “I told you.” Gabe smiled, trying to lessen the electric tension between them. “At least now I won’t end up with a bunch of pansy-ass girlie flowers at my wedding.”

  Anna didn’t quite hide her grin behind her coffee mug. “Actually, pansies were the one flower Stephanie insisted on,” she countered.

  Gabe played along, his mouth curving into a half-smile, relieved. “Figures.”

  “You’re lucky Stephanie warned you to wear comfortable clothing,” Anna pointed out. “We’re going to be walking—a lot.”

  “I thought we might be.”

  He glanced down at Anna’s painted toes, peeking out from ivory-colored sandals, and felt the wash of desire at that bit of femininity. Gabe swiped a hand down the side of his denim-encased thigh, forcing himself to look away. He had to fight the urge to brush back the lock of her hair that had fallen against her cheek. She didn’t seem to notice, but he couldn’t stop staring at the way it caressed her smooth skin.

  “You do realize most people down at the Market aren’t going to be wearing two-hundred-dollar jeans, right?”

  He hated that she immediately assumed he only wore designer clothing. It made him seem pretentious and he realized he didn’t want Anna to think of him that way. It was precisely the reason he’d asked Remington to drive him to a department store to find some “regular” jeans when he found out he was taking Stephanie’s place.

  “For your information, these are Levi’s.”

  Her brows raised. “Oh, well, excuse me,” she teased. “I stand corrected.” She took a sip of her coffee and eyed him from across the car. “You do realize that your Levi’s still cost more than this entire thrift store outfit, right?”

  He wrinkled his nose, conjuring up images of dirty piles of clothing stored in garbage bags. “Thrift store?”

  “So sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities, Mr. Radcliffe, but San Francisco is expensive. We weren’t all born into trust funds, you know,” she scolded.

  “Says the woman carrying a Michael Kors purse.”

  “Macy’s clearance, nineteen dollars.” She shot him a triumphant smile. “And I only bought it to impress clients like your grandmother.”

  “Ah, a savvy yet shrewd businesswoman.”

  The car came to a stop at the corner of the Market and Remington held the door open, helping Anna out. Gabe tried not to notice the way her skirt hugged the curves of her perfect bottom. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that he was here to pick out flowers for his wedding, regardless of the fact that he didn’t want to go through with it.

  Gabe climbed out of the car,
looking around at the large warehouse building in the industrial section of town. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “This is it?”

  Anna looked back over her shoulder. “This building houses some of the best suppliers in the state. Don’t knock it ’til you try it, Mr. Radcliffe.”

  “Will you call me Gabe, already?” he growled, following her to the door.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?” He hurried in front of her, holding open the door for her to enter. Gabe settled his hand at her lower back as he guided her inside.

  She moved away from his hand. Anna’s bright-green eyes shuttered. “Because you are my employer and, as your grandmother so adamantly reminded me, we come from very different worlds. I know my place.”

  Gabe tried to read her expression, but he couldn’t mistake the caution in the depths. He stopped, waiting for her to turn toward him. “Anna, I don’t care what my grandmother said. She and I don’t see eye to eye on many issues. I’m asking you, again, to call me Gabe. Just because I’ve hired you doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

  She tightened her jaw, looking ready to argue with him again. “Yes, it does.”

  “Well then, I’d better let my personal trainer know,” Gabe said with a chuckle. “Because he’s been my best friend for the last twelve years, since we met in college.” She pursed her lips, trying not to return his grin. “Go ahead,” he teased. “Say it.”

  Anna rolled her eyes, giving in to the grin tugging the corners of her perfect pink lips. “You are the most exasperating man.”

  “You’re not the first person to say that.”

  Anna nodded and strode away, heading toward the first aisle of flowers, leaving him to watch her go. Gabe suddenly realized that, in spite of her acquiescence, she still hadn’t used his name.

  Chapter 14

  “These are the pansies we were talking about.” Anna reached forward and plucked a pot filled with blue, yellow, and white flowers from a wire rack.

  “I thought we agreed not to use pansies.” Gabe stuffed his hands into his pockets as she spun to face him, her long hair twirling around her. He held his breath as her scent assaulted him, making his body ache.

  “But they would look perfect in the atrium with the stained glass,” she argued.

  “But they’re called ‘pansies.’”

  She slid the pot back on the shelf with a sigh, thanking the short Latino man who offered her assistance. “Are you really so insecure in your manhood that you won’t use a flower symbolizing love and admiration because of its name?”

  “What about these?” Gabe pointed toward a long-stemmed brush-like flower at another booth, across the aisle. “They’re the same sort of bluish-purple.”

  “Those are hyssop.” She laughed, plucking one from the bucket holding several. “Traditionally used for sacrifice. I mean, I could see your grandmother wanting to put this flower all around me, but I doubt Stephanie would like it in her wedding.”

  Gabe couldn’t help seeing the irony of his selection. It was exactly how he felt about this wedding—like the sacrificial lamb sent in to maintain his family’s standing in society. “You might be surprised,” he muttered.

  Anna frowned. “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”

  Normally, Gabe would have refused. He’d learned the hard way that it was always better to keep personal matters close to his chest.

  When he didn’t answer right away, Anna bit her bottom lip. “Never mind, it’s none of my business.”

  Something in the unassuming way Anna dismissed the matter made Gabe want to agree. “Go ahead.”

  “Stephanie wanted to have the wedding at your vineyard, but your grandmother refused to even entertain the idea. I’ve seen a lot of brides make demands, but Stephanie backed off immediately, even though I know it’s what she wanted. Would you consider talking to your grandmother? Convince her to change her mind. Stephanie really seemed to have her heart set on it.”

  Gabe took a deep breath, surprised by Anna’s intuition. He was unsure how best to respond. The explanation was complex, calling into question the relationship dynamic between his grandmother, Stephanie, and him. “You have to understand that my grandmother is accustomed to power, practically drunk on it, after years of building an empire. People don’t question her. What she wants, she gets. Stephanie wouldn’t be happy if I said anything.”

  Gabe felt himself feeding into his grandmother’s zeal for power, allowing her to demand more. As long as he continued to allow her to dictate his life, he was nothing more than another player in her game. The realization weighed heavily on him.

  “Yet you hired me, against her wishes.”

  “What makes you say that? I doubt she cares.”

  Anna tipped her head to one side. “Gabe, we both know she doesn’t approve of me.”

  She’d finally called him by his name and at the sound of it falling from her lips, lust kicked him in the gut. He sucked in a breath, focusing on their conversation instead of the heat pulsing through his body. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll ask Stephanie if she wants me to push the issue.”

  Reality crashed in. He was about to marry a woman he didn’t love and one who didn’t love him in return. Being with Anna was forcing him to face that fact head-on. He wanted to believe that he could ignore this attraction sparking between them.

  Gabe wandered down the aisle, leaving her to follow. He had to keep some distance between them but he found himself continually drawn to her.

  “What?” Anna asked.

  Damn, she’d caught him watching her. In for a penny…

  “What is it you want, Anna?” he asked. It was a ridiculous question. One that was too deep and philosophical for a flower market, but he wanted to know everything about her.

  “What do you mean? I don’t want anything from…”

  “I mean, what do you want from life?”

  She paused at a booth filled with a rainbow array of flowers, from roses and carnations in the front to more exotic plants lining the back. “See these?” She slid a bright-yellow, daisy-like flower out from a large bunch, as her eyes lit up with some fire from within. He couldn’t help but grin. “See, that right there. They make you smile. You can’t help but feel joy. Flowers make people feel. I just want to be able to make people experience emotion.”

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her it hadn’t been the flowers that made him smile. He didn’t bother to remind her that flowers also expressed sympathy. Not every emotion was pleasant. Life didn’t always bloom the way it was intended. The weight of his decisions bore down on him, making him feel morose.

  “I know what you’re thinking. But even the flowers people send to funerals and hospitals cheer people up. I want my own shop where I can spend my days surrounded with flowers, using them to make people see beauty and happiness. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  Gabe couldn’t argue with her logic and took the flower from her, twirling it between his fingers. He looked around at the wild array of color. They faded beside Anna, the wildest bloom of them all. Her mossy green eyes seemed to glow. He could loan her the start-up costs. He’d done it for friends before. Taking a step closer to her, he reached for her hand.

  “I could help you, Anna.”

  “You have.” She smiled at him, grateful. “This wedding is a career-maker.”

  Her words were innocently honest, devoid of the heated desire swirling through his veins, hot and heavy. Anna was reaching into his soul with no clue how she was affecting him. His gaze fell on her mouth. Her breath caught, as if she had suddenly read his thoughts.

  “A flower for your sweetheart?” An old man hurried toward them from the back of the booth, bearing a bundle of roses, shaking Gabe from fantasies he shouldn’t be having about this woman.

  Anna tore her gaze from Gabe’s. “Oh, I’m not—”

  “Give me all of the purple ones.” Anna tipped her head to one side, confused, and narrowed her eyes as Gabe pull
ed some bills from his pocket. She couldn’t understand his reasons; he didn’t even understand them.

  The old man’s smile split his face. “Let me just wrap those for you.” He shuffled back to where an elderly woman worked at a table.

  “Those are beautiful.” Anna’s voice was soft, her smile tender. “Stephanie will love them.”

  Gabe almost laughed at her assumption. These flowers weren’t for Stephanie. That hadn’t even been a consideration when the man mentioned Gabe’s “sweetheart.” He’d bought them with every intention of giving them to Anna, just to see joy fill her eyes. When the man returned with the flowers, Gabe passed him several bills.

  “Let’s go get lunch.”

  “But we still have booths to hit, and I promised Stephanie we’d take pictures,” she argued.

  Gabe pulled out his phone and snapped several photos of various flowers immediately surrounding them. “There,” he said, tucking it back into his pocket. His gaze slid over Anna, taking in her bewilderment. “Didn’t I see a café when we came in?”

  “It’s this way.” She turned to lead the way and he heard the disappointment in her voice.

  “And, Anna, these are for you.” He held the bouquet of lavender roses out to her.

  Anna spun around, taking a step to her left and yelping as her ankle buckled beneath her. Her fingers reached out, grasping for him, but she missed and toppled to the ground.

  “Anna?” Gabe squatted down, setting the flowers to one side, and reached for her. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

  “Ugh! I’m fine,” she grumbled, her cheeks turning nearly the same color as her hair. “I just tripped.” She plucked at the skirt that was now shredded over her knee. “Damn it!” Her knee was scraped and blood welled over the scratches.

  “Can you walk?”

  She rolled her eyes, allowing him to help her stand. “Yes. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a klutz. Not the chick-flick, isn’t-it-cute-how-clumsy-I-am kind, either. I’m the ends-up-in-the-ER-with-broken-ankles kind.”