by Nina Singh
“Any particular reason?”
“I just wanted one, that’s all.” She didn’t need to see his face to feel his smirk.
“What for?”
“Just because they’re nice. I thought it might brighten up our suite. Don’t you think?”
She started digging at the dirt furiously now. The plant root didn’t seem to want to budge.
R.J. shrugged, then crouched down beside her. “Well, the plant doesn’t seem to want to cooperate in your efforts to dislodge it.”
She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand through the netting. Sweat and dirt were starting to cling to her skin. “Nonsense, I’ve almost got it loosened.” Of course, he was right. The plant was barely budging, despite all her efforts.
“If you say so.” He absently rubbed a thumb on her nose through the netting, removing a smudge she must have put there.
Truth was, she was ready to give up just before R.J. had appeared. She’d been in her crouched position for who knew how long, and her knees were starting to ache.
He sighed and settled himself next to her on the ground. “Here, let me help.”
“I can do it.” She pushed his hand away, suddenly annoyed, though she’d be hard-pressed to say why. Probably from the effort of trying to ignore his closeness and the damp heat around them.
“You said you’d been trying for a while. Just let me help.”
She didn’t want his help. Didn’t need him so close to her, rubbing his arm against her leg. She just wanted to dislodge one little plant. She yanked harder than she should have and ended up falling back on her bottom.
R.J. shook his head. “Why are you so damn stubborn?”
“I am not the one who’s stubborn.”
“Oh, no? You’re sitting in the hot sweltering sun. You have dirt all over you, including on your face.” He leaned over and wiped another smudge off her cheek. “But you refuse to let me help. Face it, Angel, you’re stubborn. Always have been.”
“Fine.” She stood with a grunt, unable to bear his closeness any longer. “Go ahead, remove it.”
He took another deep breath and got to work on the plant.
“The excitement certainly seems to be buzzing around the estate,” she ventured by way of an attempt at conversation. She still had to somehow tell him about this toast she’d just agreed they’d give.
He gave her a brief glance over his shoulder. “You’re talking about the wedding.”
She dropped to her knees again next to him. “The anticipation about it is almost palpable in the air.”
His shoulders lifted in the briefest of a shrug. “Well, I, for one, think it’s a bit much.”
“Like how?”
“Like do they really need to have over two hundred guests? What’s wrong with a small, quaint wedding with close family and friends?”
“How can you say that? Mila and Tavov both said the whole village has been talking about it for months, since the happy couple got engaged, in fact.”
He rubbed his eyes wearily. “That’s right. I’m sure it will be a loud, crowded, boisterous affair resulting in mass quantities of aching heads the next morning.” He stopped tugging on the plant and looked up at the sky. “Exactly the kind of events I usually stay away from. You wouldn’t understand.”
She wanted to shake him.
“You’re right. I don’t understand,” she said with as much indignation as she could muster. “I think you sound downright heartless.” All right, so that was below the belt. But she didn’t know what else to say in the face of his negativity.
He suddenly let go of his hold on the plant and braced his forearms on his knees. “What is the big deal about a large wedding? All that matters is that they both say ‘I do’ and move on. Doesn’t it?”
She gaped at him. Move on? This was the most momentous day of these two people’s lives so far. R.J. was making it sound like a dental appointment.
“That’s one view. A completely boorish, insensitive one,” she said.
“Well, it’s the one I subscribe to.” He turned his attention back to the plant.
“I can’t believe you’re being so detached about a young couple’s declaration of love and commitment.”
“I’m just being practical.”
“Well, I think you’re being narrow-minded and stiff.” She tried to sound as bothered as she was.
“And I think all of you are being fanciful and getting overworked about a simple wedding.” He wiped at the sweat on his brow with his forearm. The disdain in his voice had her heart thumping.
She shook her head, flabbergasted at his apathy. “How can you be so negative about this? What kind of toast would you be able to give with an attitude like that?”
He looked up at her. “Huh? What toast?”
Uh-oh. She hadn’t meant to spring it on him that way. “Mila wants us to offer the couple a public toast after the nuptials. You know, the old toasting the new.”
He looked at her like she’d grown another head. “She wants us to do what?”
“I know what you’re going to say and don’t bother. I had no choice but to agree to it.”
“How the hell are we going to pull that off? Without laughing out loud?”
“I guess we’ll just have to demonstrate extraordinary restraint.”
The hurt must have sounded in her voice. He let out a breath and rubbed some dirt off his hands. “Sorry. But you gotta admit we have no business toasting such an occasion. I especially don’t.”
“Why?”
He let out a laugh. “Let’s just say my own parents’ marriage was an utter insult to the institution. Not to mention our own little effort at holy matrimony.”
“You don’t really talk much about your parents.”
His lips tightened into a firm line. “No, I don’t.”
And he clearly wasn’t going to start now. She hesitated, faltering slightly at the vehemence in his voice.
“Those are not reasons to shun weddings and marriages in general. Haven’t you ever had any fun at a wedding ceremony?”
“No.” He looked away suddenly. “What about the fiasco your friend Joanne’s wedding turned out to be for you? Because of me.”
“Joanne had a very pleasant wedding. I had a great time with you.”
“Yeah? And it didn’t bother you? Not even a little bit?”
“What?”
“Angel, don’t play coy. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“The fact that I was dropped as a bridesmaid? R.J., I was never bothered by that. She just changed her mind about the size of the wedding party. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Is that what you told yourself?”
“What?”
“Come on Angel, she changed her mind about you as a bridesmaid right around the time you married me. You’re trying to tell me there’s no connection?”
“Of course not. Unexpected glitches come up when planning such events. I understood that. Adjusting a wedding party is not that uncommon.”
“Joanne’s sudden decision was just a bit too convenient.”
“That’s just ridiculous.” She’d had no idea back then that he’d felt this way. He’d apparently hid so much from her.
“Is that what you really think?” he asked. “Or are you just being blind to your friend’s snobbery? You can’t tell me you weren’t even the slightest bit resentful of me. After all, it was just one more nudge away from your rightful life.”
Angel felt her confusion and hurt rapidly convert to anger. “You really think that? That something so silly as a place on someone’s wedding party would affect the way I feel about you?”
“It was just more icing on the cake, wasn’t it? First your father cuts you off. Then, I can’t afford
to give you a real wedding. You have to settle for a silly nonevent in a dingy chapel on Roxbury Street. Then you’re shunned at one of your best friend’s wedding.”
She felt the foolish tears and prayed they wouldn’t fall. Tears of pain, tears of anger. How shallow did he think she was?
“That ‘silly ceremony’ was one of the happiest moments of my life, R.J. I’m sorry you couldn’t see that.”
The look he gave her was one of sheer utter surprise. “Did you think I was faking how happy I was?” she demanded.
“Angel, you had a tendency to tell me what I wanted to hear.”
“All I’ve ever told you is the truth.”
He stood up in frustration, his disbelief clear in his stance. “You were happy about turning your wedding day into a fifteen-minute field trip? You were happy about having it rubbed in your face by your best friends that you’d obviously wasted your life and married someone so beneath you?”
She couldn’t respond, outraged that he could think so low of her.
“You’re telling me none of that mattered to you?” he demanded. “How about how you suddenly lost touch with them all after we were married. All but Shanna.”
“We were all busy. Starting new careers. Joanne became pregnant. None of it was intentional.”
“That’s the reason you stopped associating with your lifelong friends? Busy lives? Not because you’d married someone who would never really fit in at the yacht club events? Someone who’d never swung a golf club, sailed a boat? You’re saying none of that had anything to do with how you and your friends suddenly grew apart.”
She stepped closer and met him eye to eye. “I’m saying none of that mattered. All that ever mattered to me was being with you.” She accentuated every word, daring him to challenge them.
His lips formed a curve that wasn’t a smile. “That’s what you tried to tell yourself, wasn’t it?”
“It’s what I believed.” She knew she was about to go out on a limb. “It’s what I still believe.”
He touched her then. The gentlest brush of fingertips across her chin. “My sweet Angel,” he whispered. “What I would have given to have that be enough.”
She grabbed his wrist, holding it next to her face. “It could have been. It should have been.” Dear God, why didn’t he see?
“R.J., you meant so much more than silly society weddings. You meant more than anything. We did. The two of us.”
His noncommittal silence infuriated her. He honestly discounted her loyalty that much. To think that things as trivial as an informal wedding and the shunning from her so-called friends would have made her resent him.
“Why can’t you believe that?” She whispered the question, yearning to understand.
His eyes searched her face, but he didn’t answer. Finally, he sighed and leaned back over the plant. “If you grab the bottom, I’ll yank from the top. It should be enough to pull it out.”
That was it. The look in his eyes told her he wasn’t going to let her in any further. How could he have hidden such feelings from her? Dear God, she’d been walking through her marriage blind. She’d have done so much differently if he’d only been honest with her. It might have made a difference.
It might have saved her marriage.
She silently lowered herself back over the plant and did as he instructed. Unable to look at him, she gave the plant a forceful yank full of all the frustration and fury she was feeling. This time, the plant slid easily out, finally defeated.
CHAPTER NINE
“THEY’RE AGONIZING.”
“I beg your pardon?” R.J. stood up from the table as soon as Mila entered the sitting room.
“She means the tea leaves.” Angel was a step behind her. She’d changed into a light black cashmere sweater and a long silk wraparound skirt that hugged her hips provocatively. He tried not to let his eyes run down the length of her legs.
“That’s right.” Mila smiled at him. “You were staring into the press pot. I thought you might have been watching the tea transform as it brewed. The tea leaves change shape as the water saturates them. It’s called the agonizing of the leaves.”
Agonizing. He could relate. Angel gave him a knowing look and quirked an eyebrow.
R.J. pulled out the chair Mila was headed for and then waited for her to sit down. He moved toward Angel’s chair, but the look she gave him was more effective than a slap on the hand. Their conversation earlier in the field hadn’t been forgotten.
“So what have you two been up to all day?” Mila asked.
“Nothing exciting,” he answered and thought about how incredibly wrong that statement was.
Excitement and adrenaline were still running through his blood. Her words had replayed in his mind, words that were too tempting. Too dangerous. Words that weren’t reality. She might be able to fool herself. But there was no fooling him. It hadn’t been enough that they’d cared for each other.
They were two breeds that didn’t mix. He’d made his peace with that. How dare she try to make him question that now? She was playing with fire, tampering with conclusions made long ago. And now she sat there, looking as innocent as a missionary.
“Did Angeline tell you you’re to speak at the wedding?” Mila clapped her hands together. “I’ve talked to the couple about it, and they’re terribly excited.”
Angel dropped her spoon with a clang, and he felt some of his anger ebbing. He’d almost forgotten all this was putting a lot of strain on her, too. He suddenly felt like a heel for the way he’d been behaving. Hell, he had to admit it was more than part self-defense. She just had to understand that they couldn’t rehash the past anymore. Things could not go any further between them. He had to spend nights alone with her, for God’s sake.
“I mentioned it to him earlier,” Angel directed at Mila. “He was terribly happy about it.” She glared at him.
Angel’s tone most definitely did not match her words. Mila lifted curious eyes at the two of them, then resumed sipping her tea.
R.J. cleared his throat. “I’m just not one for public speaking, that’s all. It sort of makes me nervous,” he embellished.
Angel let out an unladylike snort from across the room. “That’s really amazing coming from a high-level, respected CEO.”
“Yes, well, it’s completely different.”
Angel set her cup down. “I find it fascinating, Mila, that a man who can be so successful within the cutthroat business of corporate security can be so deathly afraid of certain things.”
“For God’s sake.” R.J. stood up. He’d have to be a fool not to understand her double meaning.
“Is there a problem?” Mila lifted an eyebrow.
No problem at all. I just don’t know whether to shake my ex-wife silly or carry her upstairs.
“None whatsoever,” Angel said drily.
“Are you certain, dear?” Mila asked.
“Absolutely. Why do you ask?” Angel’s voice dripped with honey. The eyes boring into him told another story, however.
“Is that some kind of new American trend, then?”
R.J. looked down at the clear glass cup Angel was holding and knew immediately what Mila was referring to. He bit back a smile. Angel blinked.
“Is what?” Angel asked.
Mila leaned closer. “I’m wondering why you put both milk and lemon into your tea. Is it a new American thing to drink it curdled like that?”
Angel glanced down into her cup and wrinkled her nose. She recovered quickly. “Not yet it isn’t. But who better than me to start one?”
She smiled so wide, R.J. figured it must have hurt her jaw.
Mila wasn’t buying it. She kept looking back from Angel’s smiling face to R.J. He just shrugged.
“I see,” Mila finally said. “I think I’ll go have my
tea downstairs on the veranda.”
“Wait.” Angel stood. “I’ll join you.”
Mila lifted her hand. “No, dear, I don’t think you should.” With that she turned and walked out of the room.
“I think that was a subtle hint that she thinks we need to talk.” R.J. walked over to the table.
“Yes, well, unfortunately Mila doesn’t know any better, does she?”
“On the contrary. I think she’s a very wise woman.”
Angel sat back down with such a thud he felt himself move to catch her in case she actually missed the chair.
She started to chew her lip. The small action made her lips look so damn kissable.
“R.J., we’re doing it again.”
He had to refocus. “Doing what?”
“We’re messing up.”
“How so?”
“Mila is obviously aware there’s something not right between us. Tavov is probably suspicious also.”
He walked to her and lifted her slowly by the elbow. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“We shouldn’t be talking about this here.”
He guided her toward the balcony adjoining the sitting room. It overlooked the side of the house. Across them over the horizon, the sun was making a slow dip into the water. Angel moved over and leaned her elbows on the edge of the railing.
God he wanted to go to her. He wanted to pull her toward him, to tilt her head back and drink his fill of her. Their exchange in the fields earlier once again repeated in his mind. The desperate look in her eyes when she’d told him he’d been the only thing that mattered. For one split second there he had believed it. Had wanted so desperately to believe it. It had taken everything he had not to pull her into his arms. To hell with her father’s cruel demands. But he couldn’t.
So he was acting distant instead.
He felt a sudden pang of guilt. For his behavior, he told himself. Not for his reasons. He had to stay strong and reject his attraction. His strength and his resolve had served him well in adulthood. He was a far cry now from the scared, mousy little boy hiding from his violent father. He needed to pull on all the strength he could muster to do the right thing here.
