make money. He gave his time generously, providing leadership on a dozen different boards, as well as volunteered with a half dozen different charities, including several organizations in the Middle East. Randall was particularly valuable to those latter organizations since he could speak a staggering number of languages, including Egyptian, Arabic and Greek.
The Earl of Langston worked hard, very hard.
If one were to criticize him it would be that he worked too much. Sophie certainly thought so. Poppy had tried to educate Sophie on Randall’s business, thinking that if Sophie was more interested in Randall’s work and life, the couple would have more in common, and would therefore enjoy each other’s company more, but Sophie wasn’t interested in the boards Randall sat on, or his numerous investments. Her ears had pricked at the charity work, because Sophie had her own favorite charities, but the interest didn’t last long, in part because Randall failed to reciprocate. He took Sophie for granted. He didn’t try to woo her, or romance her. There were no little weekends away. No special dinners out. It was almost as if they were an old married couple even before they married.
Sophie deserved better. She deserved more.
Poppy hoped that Renzo marching down the aisle of Langston Chapel would ultimately be a good thing for Sophie.
But even if it was a good thing, it would be scandalous. It would always be scandalous.
Heartsick, Poppy closed her eyes and found herself wondering about Sophie. Was she okay? Where had Renzo taken her? And what was happening in her world now?
“Guilty conscience, Poppy?”
Randall’s deep, husky voice seemed to vibrate all the way through her.
She opened her eyes and straightened quickly, shoulders squaring so that the boned bodice pressed her breasts up.
He was standing over her, which meant she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. He was tall and lean, and his elegant suit should have made him look elegant, too, but instead he struck her as hard and fierce, and more than a little bit savage, which was both strange and awful because until today she would have described Randall Grant as the most decent man she’d ever met. Until today she would have trusted him with her life. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“No,” she said breathlessly, worried about being alone with him. It wasn’t that he’d hurt her, but he struck her as unpredictable, and this new unpredictability made her incredibly anxious.
The flight attendant appeared behind him with the flute of champagne. “For Miss Marr,” she said.
Randall took it from her and handed it to Poppy. “We’re celebrating, are we?” he said mockingly.
Her pulse jumped as their fingers brushed, the sharp staccato making her breathless and jittery. She glanced from his cool, gold eyes into the golden bubbles fizzing in her flute. “The flight attendant said you were the one that suggested the champagne.”
“I was curious to see what you would do.”
Her eyes stung. Her throat threatened to seal closed. “Take it back, then,” she said, pushing the flute back toward him. “I didn’t want it in the first place.”
“I wish I could believe you.”
The hardness in his voice made her ache. She’d thought she’d done the right thing by writing to Renzo, but now she wasn’t sure. Had she been wrong about Randall and Sophie?
Did Randall actually love her? Had Poppy just inadvertently broken his heart?
It didn’t help being this physically close to Randall when her emotions were so unsettled, either. Nor did she know how to read this new Randall Grant. He wasn’t anything like the quiet, considerate man she’d worked for, a man who always seemed to know how to handle her.
“You like champagne,” he said carelessly, dropping into the seat opposite hers. “Keep it. I have a drink coming, too.”
“Yes, but I shouldn’t drink, not when working. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were thinking that you’re a bundle of nerves, and a little bit of alcohol sounded like the perfect tonic.”
“Maybe. But we don’t drink together. I don’t think you and I have ever had a drink, just the two of us. If there was wine, or champagne open, it’s because Sophie was there and Sophie wanted a glass and we never let her drink alone.”
“No, we never did. We both looked after her, didn’t we?”
Poppy’s throat thickened. “Please don’t hate her.”
“It’s impossible to like her right now.”
Poppy stared down into her glass. “Maybe it’s better if we don’t discuss her.”
“Four hours ago she was to be my wife. Now I’m to simply forget her? Just like that?”
She looked up at him, struggling to think of something she could say, but nothing came to her and she just gave him a look that she hoped was properly sympathetic without being pitying.
“I’m shocked and angry, not broken. Save the sympathy for someone who needs it.”
“Do you want her back?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Why?”
“Because even if she did decide she’d made a mistake, I don’t think you’d forgive and forget. At least not for a long time.”
The corner of his mouth curled. “I don’t like being played for a fool, no,” he said, giving her a long, penetrating look that made her squirm because it seemed to imply that he also thought she had played him for a fool. And if that was the case, then spending the next week working together was asking for trouble. He wouldn’t be in a proper state of mind.
The flight attendant appeared with a crystal tumbler. “Your whiskey,” she said, handing him the glass. “Captain Winter also wanted you to know that the new flight plan has been approved, and we’ll be departing in just a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” Randall said, giving the attendant a warm smile, the kind of smile he used to give Poppy, the kind of smile that had made her put him on a pedestal in the beginning.
And just like that, tears filled her eyes and she had to duck her head so he wouldn’t see. Because if she did look at him, he’d see more than she wanted him to see. Randall was startlingly perceptive. He paid attention to people and things, picking up on details others missed.
“I knew it wouldn’t be long before you got weepy,” he said, extending his long legs, invading her space. “Before this morning, I would have said you are nothing if not predictable, but you surprised me today. You’re not at all who I thought you were.”
She drew her legs back farther to keep her ankles from touching his, and told herself to bite her tongue, and then bite it again because arguing with him would only make the tension worse.
He gave his glass a shake, letting the amber liquid
