question is that? If it weren’t for Bors, you wouldn’t be here and the other women would never have stepped foot here either.”
“Thought so. I’m leaving.”
“You’re being ungrateful, you know that. Bors put his life in danger to—”
“Danger? What in the world are you talking about? I came here to the US without talking to Bors. Why he would butt his head in my affairs, I have no idea. And Edmund said you are expecting me and will be happy to see me. Which we both know, now, is a lie. I can’t believe I listened to him. He lied! You don’t want me here more so than you hate celery in your salad.”
“Celery?” Yes, he hated celery, but how did she know that? Gawain watched the woman walk around him and pick up her bag. Whatever she had in it wasn’t much. It didn’t look heavy at all.
“I am thankful that Bors asked Edmund to pick me up at the airport to bring me here. I’m sorry that I bothered you, but I wouldn’t have come here if my godparents had not been sick.”
“Godparents?”
“The Baskervilles.”
“You mean Ben and Susan Baskerville?”
“Yes.”
“How—”
“They are my parents’ friends.”
“—right.”
“God, Gawain. Life’s too short to hold grudges this long. I suspected you’d hate seeing me, but not this much.”
“Why would I hate seeing you?”
Who the heck is this woman?
“I think I know why you’re doing this. You hated me for what had happened in the past, and also, you most likely think an apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. That I am like my mother once was.” She walked toward the door.
Shit. “Stop. You’re not making sense.”
What the hell was she talking about? They’d met? He would remember if they had. Why would he think she was like her mother? “Stop,” he repeated and followed her. He reached her in a few strides, then grabbed the doorknob before she could turn it. Standing this close, he could smell her scent. Fresh. Like vanilla.
Gawain tilted his head to the side to see her face better. God, even a scarecrow has a better looking hat than she does. And what the hell is she wearing? A flour sack? Gawain shook his head. She really had his attention now. Bors asked about what he’d thought of this woman. His answer…a shrew.
“I’m sorry, all right?”
After taking a deep breath, Gawain gave her his deadly charming smile, expecting a reaction he knew too well. The woman’s reaction surprised him, though. She only lifted her chin. She didn’t whimper or return his smile. Different. Yes. Different compared to the many women he had bedded in the past. All he had to do was grace them with his smile and they fell all over his feet. This one, though, was darn unusual.
The top of her head reached his chin. He tried to see her eyes, but she only pulled her hat down. This is stupid. “Let’s have a truce, all right?”
“A truce,” she said sarcastically.
“Have we met?”
“Of…course. You don’t know who I am?”
“No. I’m supposed to know you?”
“Oh, my God. You have no idea that I’m coming, do you?”
“Yes, I know you’ll be here.”
“But you didn’t know it’s me coming here today.”
”Well, I told Edmund not to tell me your name. It’s my rule, you see. I don’t want the names of those women who stay here. In your case, I’m breaking my own rule. You said Ben is your godfather and your dad’s best friend.”
Her dad was Baskerville’s friend? Gawain’s heart started pounding against his chest. Could this be…no. No way. This woman spoke with an accent. “Take off your hat.”
“Why?”
“I want to see your face.”
“What for?” She tried to lengthen the distance from him, but her back only hit the door.
“So I could point you to the cops if I find my silverware missing,” he teased.
The woman paled.
“I’m not lying. Call Baskerville. I need to talk to him anyway.”
Her accent was back. Cops made her nervous. Oh, hell. Bors was right. This woman was in
“Thought so. I’m leaving.”
“You’re being ungrateful, you know that. Bors put his life in danger to—”
“Danger? What in the world are you talking about? I came here to the US without talking to Bors. Why he would butt his head in my affairs, I have no idea. And Edmund said you are expecting me and will be happy to see me. Which we both know, now, is a lie. I can’t believe I listened to him. He lied! You don’t want me here more so than you hate celery in your salad.”
“Celery?” Yes, he hated celery, but how did she know that? Gawain watched the woman walk around him and pick up her bag. Whatever she had in it wasn’t much. It didn’t look heavy at all.
“I am thankful that Bors asked Edmund to pick me up at the airport to bring me here. I’m sorry that I bothered you, but I wouldn’t have come here if my godparents had not been sick.”
“Godparents?”
“The Baskervilles.”
“You mean Ben and Susan Baskerville?”
“Yes.”
“How—”
“They are my parents’ friends.”
“—right.”
“God, Gawain. Life’s too short to hold grudges this long. I suspected you’d hate seeing me, but not this much.”
“Why would I hate seeing you?”
Who the heck is this woman?
“I think I know why you’re doing this. You hated me for what had happened in the past, and also, you most likely think an apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. That I am like my mother once was.” She walked toward the door.
Shit. “Stop. You’re not making sense.”
What the hell was she talking about? They’d met? He would remember if they had. Why would he think she was like her mother? “Stop,” he repeated and followed her. He reached her in a few strides, then grabbed the doorknob before she could turn it. Standing this close, he could smell her scent. Fresh. Like vanilla.
Gawain tilted his head to the side to see her face better. God, even a scarecrow has a better looking hat than she does. And what the hell is she wearing? A flour sack? Gawain shook his head. She really had his attention now. Bors asked about what he’d thought of this woman. His answer…a shrew.
“I’m sorry, all right?”
After taking a deep breath, Gawain gave her his deadly charming smile, expecting a reaction he knew too well. The woman’s reaction surprised him, though. She only lifted her chin. She didn’t whimper or return his smile. Different. Yes. Different compared to the many women he had bedded in the past. All he had to do was grace them with his smile and they fell all over his feet. This one, though, was darn unusual.
The top of her head reached his chin. He tried to see her eyes, but she only pulled her hat down. This is stupid. “Let’s have a truce, all right?”
“A truce,” she said sarcastically.
“Have we met?”
“Of…course. You don’t know who I am?”
“No. I’m supposed to know you?”
“Oh, my God. You have no idea that I’m coming, do you?”
“Yes, I know you’ll be here.”
“But you didn’t know it’s me coming here today.”
”Well, I told Edmund not to tell me your name. It’s my rule, you see. I don’t want the names of those women who stay here. In your case, I’m breaking my own rule. You said Ben is your godfather and your dad’s best friend.”
Her dad was Baskerville’s friend? Gawain’s heart started pounding against his chest. Could this be…no. No way. This woman spoke with an accent. “Take off your hat.”
“Why?”
“I want to see your face.”
“What for?” She tried to lengthen the distance from him, but her back only hit the door.
“So I could point you to the cops if I find my silverware missing,” he teased.
The woman paled.
“I’m not lying. Call Baskerville. I need to talk to him anyway.”
Her accent was back. Cops made her nervous. Oh, hell. Bors was right. This woman was in
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