Lord Bachelor

by Tammy L. Bailey

  With Sir Richard occupied with a scandal regarding his ex-wife and girlfriend in Switzerland, Edmund knew the man had not seen or heard of Love Match. Otherwise, he would have shown his face by now. Until then, the future of Danwick and the Rushwood name fell to Edmund to sort out, him and an audience full of crazed romantics.

  “Abby, I have to go.”

  She showed no emotion. “Just go, then.”

  “We’ll talk later.”

  She said nothing as she locked the door and disappeared up the stairway. He didn’t want to leave her, so he found himself staring at his dejected reflection. He half expected the wind to change direction, to blink, and find Raify standing beside him, her lips pursed in ire and disappointment. When she didn’t show, he chose to carry on a conversation as if she were there.

  “You did the right thing,” he assured himself, although his body protested in hard, jolting waves.

  Instead of going home, he drove around, getting lost several times before pulling into Will’s condo. It was more tall than wide and had a southern California appearance with its tan exterior and clay roof. With dawn materializing like a Picasso painting behind him, Edmund stood at Will’s doorstep and knocked.

  It took a series of thirteen firm strikes to the maroon door before Will’s voice yelled from inside. “I’m coming!”

  The door opened, the man’s eyes partially closed. Through scrunched slits, he waved Edmund through the doorway and offered him the only clean seat in the sitting area, a black leather reclining chair. Too frustrated to do anything but stand, Edmund shook his head.

  “I should never have allowed you to let Abby stay on the show,” Edmund said, running a hand down his face.

  “You’re telling me.”

  Edmund dropped his arm. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about you falling in love with Abby Forester.”

  “No, no that can’t happen,” Edmund said, pacing between a teetering stack of empty pizza boxes and a scattered pile of Hustler magazines.

  Will slammed down into his recliner. “It could very well be lust, Edmund, ol’ boy, but I think you’re going to need a little more time to figure that out.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  Will pulled out a half-charred cigar, lit it, and began puffing smoke toward the ceiling. “Did you not read the itinerary?”

  Edmund shook his head until he remembered the closing phases. “Oh, Christ.”

  Will sighed and pulled himself up, his silk robe opening to reveal a pair of boxer briefs adorned with little green alligators. “Your last elimination segment involves a…consummation of sorts.”

  “Does the executive producer expect me to shag everyone who’s left?” Edmund’s question sounded foreign, as if he’d been possessed by a man of conservative thoughts and ideas. A month ago, he would have jumped at the chance. Of course, a month ago, he hadn’t met Abby.

  Will glanced around, confused. “He and the rest of the viewing population do.” He paused. “Look on the bright side: we’ve been able to convince the audience—silently, of course—that Abby may be a descendent of the Duke of Dangleon.”

  Edmund shook his head. “Who the bloody hell is that?”

  Will shrugged, clueless. “We wanted to make her blend in with the rest of them.”

  Edmund was already disgusted with the conversation. Abby didn’t need to blend in, she just needed to be herself.

  “So, she has her hooks in ya, does she?” Will added in a bad Irish accent. “Well, you’ll need to wrangle yourself away before she starts reeling you in, all slow-like.”

  Unable to contemplate Will being right about anything, Edmund turned toward the door.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” his friend called, his words muffled by the cigar in his mouth.

  ****

  Abby spent most of the day sulking, angry, and grumpy, her customers leaving her shop faster than they entered. She’d managed to make a few sales, but not enough to satisfy Kendra’s ruthless appetite for more cash.

  This time, however, Abby didn’t care. Why she’d let herself get this far with a man who had no intention of letting her be anything more than a fill-in, she didn’t know. Leave it to Raify to elaborate on the answer.

  “You’re in love with him, dear.”

  Abby shook her head, unwilling to believe such a thing. She was infatuated with Lord Edmund Rushwood and that was clear: his dashing good looks, deceptive buoyancy, and flamboyant romanticisms.

  She sighed and let her chin drop into her palm. “Falling in love with Lord Edmund Rushwood would not only be reckless, but insane, Raify.”

  “Perhaps you’re judging him too harshly.”

  Abby’s mouth fell open. “Whose side are you on?”

  Her friend adjusted her straw hat and then sipped long on her Earl Grey tea before answering. “I’m on yours, of course. But, you must keep your heart open even when it feels like it wants to snap shut.”

  “Me? He’s the one who keeps coming to me and snapping shut, not to mention running away.” Abby felt betrayed by Raify’s words, confident Edmund had succeeded in captivating even the deftest of minds.

  “No. Tonight I’m going to…I’m going to—”

  “Give him a taste of his own medicine,” Raify said, popping one of her homemade scones between her painted lips.

  “Hmm,” Abby muttered. At the moment, she had the strangest, most overwhelming urge to get him close and then poke him right in his eyeball.

  After Raify laid an affectionate kiss on her cheek, Abby trudged upstairs to try on the dresses Holly had brought over for her to wear. Fifteen runway walks before her stand-up mirror later, Abby decided on a simple black dress she’d bought to celebrate her independence from Derek.

  She spent less time with her hair, choosing to keep it down with soft curls caressing her cheeks on each side. She wondered what it might take to seduce Edmund long enough to pull away and leave him longing. The thought empowered her.

  When he came to pick her up, the stars had already disappeared, and a threat of rain hung in the air. To her relief, there was no limousine, no camera crew, just him. She tried not to stare as he exited the car, wearing a dove white button-down under a stylish gray sports coat, his open shirt drawing her gaze to his chest.

  She noticed he hadn’t shaved, which added to his attractiveness. Although her mind had come to grips with his rather whirlwind interest in her, her body had not. It still ached for him; at this moment, revolting with a tight pull that started at her abdomen, sinking lower with each breath.

  He stepped before her, his arresting eyes clear and bright with an intensity that stole her breath away. On the verge of turning and running back into her shop, she stuck out her hand.

  “Hello, Edmund.”

  His gaze lowered before sliding slowly back toward her face. “We’ve resorted to formal greetings, have we?” He didn’t wait for her response as his palm lifted to cup her cheek.

  She drew back as if his touch burned, leaving his hand suspended a few inches away. His ardent gaze flashed with tormented indignation. Still, he dropped his arm and sent her a seductive smile.

  “You do realize, by the end of tonight, I’m going to have to kiss you.”

  “Ha, and I can’t wait to hear your excuse this time when you choose, instead, to walk away.”

  His body tensed before her, his chest rising in quick and shallow breaths. He reached out again, this time, wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her full against him. He smelled of masculine soap and warm sensuality, making her wish she’d just kept her distance and her mouth shut.

  “I have no doubt what you want, Abby. I see my own reflection in your eyes.” He paused to think carefully of his next words. “But regret is a permanent burden.”

  She released the air she’d been holding. “Is…is that what you think every time you’re near me? That I’ll end up as one of your regrets?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  S
he made a strangling noise in her throat before shoving him away. She stumbled back, catching herself before he had the chance to help her. He reached out a hand anyway.

  “Don’t,” she warned, slapping at his fingers before swiping the hair away from her face. “I should have known.”

  His gaze scanned the night before coming back to challenge her assertion. “Known what?”

  “You’re not real. You’re…you’re like your pet dragon, Arthur—an illusion. To a girl like me, simple and monetarily challenged, I bought into the fantasy of you. But, I’m not a naïve schoolgirl who pines away for some prince to come whisk her away where the sky rains gumdrops and a mere kiss turns her father’s shop into a gilded castle.”

  She watched him as he retreated and took up a relaxed stance against his shiny BMW. She had no doubt he was thoroughly amused by her outburst. His easy smile said it all. “You dream about raining gumdrops and gilded castles?”

  She let out a frustrated groan and thrust her fists toward the ground. “I was implying a metaphor; a bad one, I admit.” She struggled to further explain her embarrassing tirade until she gave up altogether. “Forget it,” she said, turning to make her way back inside.

  “So does this mean I won’t be kissing you tonight?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Edmund had tested many people in his life. It started at a young age in order to gain his father’s attention. It continued from there. However, not once did he ever wish to test a woman’s loyalty to him, until now.

  With his arms folded over his chest and his ankles crossed, he waited for Abby’s decision. He liked the dress she’d picked for the night, the midnight black shimmering fabric accentuating every delicate curve of her enticing body. He heard her half sigh, half scoff before she twisted back around to face him. Whether he was in love or lust with her, he longed for that moment to find out, lust trumping anything coherently reasonable at the moment.

  She stepped close to him, a proud smile lifting the corner of her delicious lips. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  He chuckled and pushed himself from the car. “You misjudge me, Miss Forester. It was never my intention to rid myself of your company. That would be a struggle I could not bear.”

  He stood at his full height, forcing her head to tilt back. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. As he stared into her upturned face, the leaves of the dogwood tree rustled with a sudden gust of wind. He breathed in her sweet scent as it drifted toward him.

  In silence, he drew his arm back to open her door. “I want to be with you tonight, Abby.” It wasn’t quite a plea, but he saw her face soften.

  Still, she hesitated so long, he thought he might have to pick her up and put her in the bloody seat himself. When she finally relented, he slid into the driver’s side, his mind reminiscing over the last few minutes of their conversation.

  He’d meant what he said about regrets. If she ended up hurt, if one tear fell because of what he’d put in place to keep his vast possessions, he’d never forgive himself.

  In order to guard her from any such heartbreak, and until he figured everything out, he needed to remain as aloof and emotionally unattached as possible. This should have come easily to him. After all, he’d been practicing it for years. In the silence, the engine pinged and their seats squeaked as they both squirmed from the mounting quiet between them.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “I can’t do this,” he confessed, realizing he’d never be able to keep his passions confined regarding her.

  She glanced around. “Do what? Turn the key?”

  He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. “This was supposed to be simple, a guileless resolution to a complicated problem.”

  He didn’t even have to explain what he’d meant.

  “Well, you should have known when you involved a group of females vying for your attention—not to mention your last name—that things were bound to get complicated.” She was actually scolding him. “Even if there are only five women left.”

  He exhaled and lowered his chin to his chest. “Five? So, in a matter of minutes you went from hoping for a gilded castle to taking yourself out of the equation.”

  “I was being overly dramatic. Besides, when did you ever think of making me a viable choice?”

  “Viable,” he said, then laughed dryly. He lifted his knee to turn toward her. “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps when you signed the contract after I insisted that you not.”

  She sucked in a lungful of air. “So this is my fault?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She sat for a reflective moment, fury building in her adorable cheeks. “You, Lord Edmund Rushwood, are a spoiled, egotistical, immature…uh…” She was running out of names to call him.

  “Bastard?”

  “Yes, bastard, who—”

  “Thinks only of himself?” he answered for her again.

  “You know,” she said, then paused on a huff. “It isn’t much fun when you think of the words before I can even say them.”

  He unhinged his palm from the steering wheel and placed it against her soft cheek, relieved she didn’t flinch. He hadn’t meant to wound her earlier. However, he thought to prepare her for what lay ahead.

  “I know I’m difficult,” he began. “Like I’ve said, I haven’t had to account for my ways until now. All I ask is that you be patient, please.”

  ****

  Abby turned into Edmund’s touch, savoring the warmth of his palm on her skin. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to so badly. “That isn’t a line Mr. Darcy said to poor Lizzy, is it?”

  His features sobered as he withdrew from her. With the air between them still charged, he reached down and turned the key, not even bothering to give her an answer.

  From the itinerary Holly gave her, they were to dine at Cristo Bistro across town. It was one of the most expensive places to eat, and Abby felt more self-conscious with every turn in the expensive car.

  Her anxiety didn’t ease as she gazed at the lavishly lit restaurant. On each side of the maroon French doors stood two six-foot ficus trees, each one ornamented with shimmering crystal lights. Against the gray stone wall stood a line of chic men and women, all beautiful, perfect, and statuesque.

  Abby held back a nervous laugh as the motley crew of Will, Holly, and Joe stood amongst them, waiting for her and Edmund’s arrival. With Will on his cell phone, Holly chewing on a stubborn thumbnail and looking a bit haggard, and Joe flirting with a tall redhead beside him, Abby wondered how she’d become so imbedded in the situation.

  Then she glanced at Edmund and understood. He was like no one she’d ever met—relentless, but chivalrous; obnoxious, but tender. With one slight touch, he had her insides jumping all over the place.

  As the valet hopped around the car, Edmund exited his side and came around to open her door. As everyone stared and whispered, he placed a firm hand upon her back, leading her inside ahead of the crew.

  At the mahogany hostess station, a pretty girl dressed in a slimming aqua blue dress glanced up and smiled.

  “Reservations for two under Rushwood,” Edmund said, sliding his hand down to lock with Abby’s. He had a way of sensing things about her, such as when she needed comforting.

  “Yes, Lord Rushwood, of course.”

  Abby swore the girl batted her lashes and blushed. At the same time, Edmund squeezed Abby’s hand, as if to assure her of something.

  They waited as the young woman’s face fell into a crease of confusion. “That’s odd. Your reservation has been cancelled. I don’t understand.”

  Upon hearing the news, Will poked his head in between Abby and Edmund. “Then find us another location in the restaurant that will accommodate a camera.”

  “I’m…I’m so sorry,” the woman stuttered. She glanced down her board before raising a nervous gaze toward them again. “We can give you the first available, but that may be in fifteen to twenty minutes.”

/>   “Unacceptable,” Will said, loud enough for people to stop eating and look up and through the live ferns that separated the waiting area from the dining room.

  “Will, we can go somewhere else,” Edmund assured him.

  “Absolutely not. It’s a Friday night and every place is packed. We can wait here.”

  Abby squirmed in her pumps, wanting nothing more than to leave and slip into a pair of cut-off sweatpants and a cotton T-shirt. Just when she thought they were stuck there, Edmund leaned down, his mouth tickling her earlobe. “I’m so tired of restaurant food.”

  Abby held back a shiver at his hypnotic voice and said the first thing that came to mind. “Raify brought over some spaghetti and meatballs last night. There’s enough for two.”

  His wicked smile melted her on the spot. “That sounds fabulous.”

  ****

  Outside, a symphony of thunder shook the ground as a silent vein of lightning stretched across the eerie sky. Edmund paused on the sidewalk just before a torrid downpour fell like a curtain in front of them.

  People scrambled for cover as Edmund grasped Abby’s hand and hauled her into the driving rain, both of them laughing like a pair of three-year-olds.

  By the time the valet brought the car around, they were both drenched. Inside, the heater blew warm on their soaked bodies. Edmund stole a glance in Abby’s direction, her hair pressed against her temple, her lashes fluttering against her damp cheeks.

  When it came to Abby, he was the most selfish man alive. He didn’t want to share her, not with Will, Holly, Joe, or the other viewers gawking at their every move. So far, things had worked out quite well. Although he was not the one to sabotage their first date, he wanted to take credit for this one.

  “I haven’t done anything like that in a very long time,” she commented, licking the drops from her lips. He stared, unable to fight the urge any longer.

  With the rain still driving hard against the windshield, their view obscured from anyone, he reached over and pulled her to him. He wanted to taste her again, to lose himself in the moment without thinking of proclamations and consequences.