Rosalind's phone rang as she stepped out of the shower. She glanced at the screen, saw the goofy picture of Bijou she used as her ID, and smiled wide. "You have impeccable timing," she said as she wrapped herself in a towel.
"Are you getting it on?" her best friend asked with her usual bluntness.
"Alas, no." She sighed, thinking of Nick and how he'd been so resistant to her advances.
"Wait. That sigh meant something." Bijou gasped. "Is there a boy?"
"He's all man, and I'm not sure. He seems interested one moment and then pushes me away the next."
"Is he British?"
"Yes. Why?"
"British men are strange."
She shook her head as she pulled out clothes from the dresser. "He's not strange. He's being gallant."
"And that's strange. You need a dude who'll bang you silly, especially given the recent family events." Bijou paused. "How are you holding up?"
Sitting on the bed, she considered the question. "Well, I think. I miss home, but it's okay being here."
"Portia isn't giving you shit?"
"Of course she is." She smiled wryly. "I'm in London, not an alternate universe."
"Your mom?" Bijou asked, her voice serious.
"Mum is"-she shook her head-"acting oddly."
"That makes sense. Her husband died with another woman."
"But it's a nice odd. She asked to see my designs."
"Whoa."
She nodded. "I know."
"When are you coming home?" Bijou had a way of getting to the core of the matter.
Sighing, she said, "I don't know."
There was a contemplative pause, and then her best friend said, "Then I'm giving you homework."
Rosalind grinned. Bijou had been giving her "homework" since boarding school, and it always had to do with the opposite sex. "Yes?"
"Get this strange Brit you're infatuated with naked."
"Why do you think I'm infatuated with him?"
"Please." Bijou snorted. "You're my girl. I know."
Rosalind hung up, a huge smile on her face and a plan formulating.
The doorbell rang.
Rosalind was ready for it. She opened it quickly, her belly fluttering with nerves. "Hello, Nick."
She wondered if he heard the huskiness in her voice. She wondered if he knew why she'd called him over.
"Rosalind." His gaze ate her up like she was dessert. The way his eyes lingered on her lips, she knew he wanted to kiss her as much as she wanted him.
This was the right thing to do. He'd open her father's office for her so she could search without Portia getting in the way, and she could take care of her homework with Nick.
Win-for her, in any case.
She held open the door and motioned him in. "Are you ready to be a dragon slayer?"
"Where's this beast you called about?"
She pointed down the hall. "The door to my father's office is locked, and no one knows where the key is."
His gaze followed where she indicated. A frown furrowed his forehead. For a moment she thought he was going to refuse, but then he said, "Let's go look."
She took his hand, happy when his fingers tightened on hers. When they stopped at the door, she looked around to make sure Portia wasn't around. Her sister would go ballistic if she knew what she was going to do.
"You look like you're afraid of getting caught," Nick said.
"Of course not." Reluctant-sure, but not afraid. She gestured to the door. "Have at it."
He tested the doorknob, kneeling down for a closer look. Then he got out his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a credit card.
"You can't be serious," Rosalind said.
He slid it into the crevice between the frame and the door and it popped open.
Rosalind frowned. "I was looking forward to you kicking it in with your foot."
Putting his wallet away, he stood up. "If it's a manly display you'd like ..."
He slung her over his shoulder and carried her inside.
She squealed in surprise, laughing, her hands bracing herself on his back as he jostled her up and down. He tossed her onto the leather couch near the fireplace.
Before he could step away, she grabbed him by the jacket and brought him down on top of her, taking his mouth with hers.
It was delicious.
She sighed, loving the heavy feel of him on top of her. She wrapped her arms around his body and burrowed closer.
"Rosalind," he murmured against her cheek.
"Before you say we should back off, let me assure you we really should. Trust me." She tugged his jacket off his shoulders and began unbuttoning his shirt. "There's only one way this could be better than it already is."
"If we were naked?"
"See? We even think alike." She pushed him up and pulled her top off.
He froze, staring at the thin, silk camisole she wore. She didn't have to look down to know what he saw: the thin silk and the shadow of her breasts underneath.
She took his jacket and shirt off at the same time, admiring his built shoulders and chest. She traced a ridge of muscle-he obviously worked out. Unbuckling his belt, she said, "Take your shoes off."
He sat back and toed his shoes off, one by one, his socks following. "You're taking advantage of me, you know."
"I'm the worst sort of predator." She did a double take at his feet. "Are your toes pink?"
"I got a pedicure." He held a foot out for her to inspect.
She grinned, climbing onto his lap. "Do you feel pretty?"
His fingers wove into her hair, holding her head gently as he looked into her eyes. "Pretty fabulous."
The office door creaked open.
They both looked up to find a startled Fran in the threshold.
Rosalind cursed under her breath, backing off Nick's lap and smoothing her hair. "I didn't know you were here this afternoon."
"Obviously." Her former governess's curious gaze stuck on Nick. "I reckon you found the key."
"Nick helped me get in."
"Is that what he helped with?" Fran asked with an amused lift of her brow.
Rosalind sighed, giving up any pretence of making the situation look less damning. "Fran, this is my friend Nick. Nick, Fran Watson is part of the family. She raised all of us and has abysmal timing."
The older lady laughed as she backed out of the room. "Portia is due home shortly, and you know how she is about this room. Nick, it was a pleasure. Not as much a pleasure as it seems to be for Rosalind"-she winked-"but a pleasure nonetheless."
Nick smiled, watching Fran discreetly close the door behind her. Then he faced Rosalind. "You said she raised you? Where was your mother?"
"Being a socialite." She smiled wryly. "She had her charities and functions. It was fine. No one could have loved us more than Fran."
He nodded, obviously thinking.
"I'm sorry we got interrupted. It's as though the universe stepped in, isn't it?" She put a hand on his leg. "I have an appointment tomorrow. I'd love it if you wanted to tag along."
He held her hand, his smile warm again. "I'd love that."