hesitated for a moment. Frowned. “I don’t know anymore. I used to want a family life, children, all that, but now I know that’s not for me.”
“How do you know that? You’ve never tried.” Her indignation made her sound abrupt.
“To have a family you have to be married, and my two efforts in that direction have demonstrated that I’m not a suitable husband.”
“Maybe they weren’t suitable wives.” She cocked her chin.
“Not for me, apparently.” He looked out over Long Island Sound. “I won’t make that same mistake again.”
“That seems a real shame. You’re far too young to swear off relationships. Besides, you can easily afford a few more divorces.” Her joke was meant to defuse the tension, but the haunted look he gave her only ratcheted it higher. “Not that you’d ever have another, of course.”
“I guarantee that I won’t. Since I have no intention of getting married again.” He drained his champagne glass and stared out over the dark water. “You should marry.”
“What? Why?” His odd statement shocked her. The idea that he even had any thoughts on the subject made her uneasy.
“You’re nurturing and thoughtful. You’d be a good mother. Someone would be very lucky to have you as a partner.” He glanced at her, then looked away again, as if something on the black-velvet horizon held his attention.
“You make me sound rather dull. Not the kind of person who goes to elegant dances wearing a vintage dress.” She teased him. He was right, of course.
“Not at all, because quite obviously you are the kind of person who lights up the night at an occasion like this.” His gaze swept quietly over her, stirring a flurry of arousal. His eyes lingered on her lips, which twitched involuntarily, still hungry for the kiss they never got.
She really needed to distract herself from wanting to kiss him. Although her body thought it was a good idea, her mind knew better. It would only make her life more complicated. After all, he’d made it clear he didn’t want a relationship with her—or anyone—so where could it lead?
Still, why did he have to have such a sensual mouth? His lips were quite full, with a graceful arch on the top, in tantalizing contrast to the masculine jut of his cheekbones and jaw, and the aristocratic profile of his nose. Frankly, his lips begged to be kissed.
And having kissed him once, she knew just how soft and yet how firm they’d be as she pressed her lips against them.
“So, why don’t you want to marry again?” That line of questioning should kill any hint of romance.
He raised a brow. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Because your marriages failed? I’d imagine that would be off-putting, but it didn’t stop Elizabeth Taylor.” She smiled. “I bet if you found the right person you’d get it right this time.”
I could be that right person.
Her brain spat out the thought entirely against her will. She spat it right back. She was trying to crush her romantic aspirations toward Sinclair, not stoke them.
“Maybe you need to figure out exactly what went wrong. Did you ever do that?” She was pretty darn curious, for sure.
“It’s easy. We wanted different things. My first wife, Muffy …” He hesitated.
Of course she was called Muffy. She probably wore pink twinsets with little whales embroidered on them.
“We were together all through college and did everything together. We got married the summer after graduation, and both of our families were thrilled. We bought a lovely house in Connecticut and I thought we’d live happily ever after. Then she decided she wanted to pursue a doctorate in modern languages at Yale, then she wanted to become a professor, then she wanted to take a position at a university in Peru, and by that point we’d realized we were two different people on entirely different courses and we went our separate ways. She teaches at a university in Argentina. It seemed like she changed into a completely different person after I married her.”
“You never considered moving away with her?”
“No. I have my life here, my business. I don’t want to spend my time traveling around the world.” He looked out over the Sound. “I decided right then that I’d never get serious about someone who’s just starting out in life and has no idea what they want yet. One of the things I liked about Diana was that she had her own established PR business and had built a full life for herself. I was pretty confident she wasn’t going to throw it all away and move to Tibet to join a monastery.” He smiled wryly. “And that was where our problems started.”
“She joined a monastery?” Annie’s eyes widened.
“No. Her life was so full that there was no room for me and my life in it. I didn’t want to fly around the country each weekend going to weddings and parties and visiting friends and clients. If I didn’t do those things, I didn’t see my wife. Still, I was determined to make it work so I let her do her thing while I did mine.” He frowned. “I started to believe that was how successful marriages worked. I didn’t have a very good example to follow. My parents led almost entirely separate lives during my childhood. That’s one of the reasons we have several houses.” He sighed. “But Diana found someone else.”
“Oh.” She knew that already. Her infidelity had been the grounds for the divorce. “I’m sorry.”
“So, you see, I’m too inflexible. I wasn’t willing to live their lives and they weren’t willing to live mine. Maybe I should just get a dog?” He raised an eyebrow, and humor sparkled in his eyes.
“I don’t know. That’s a big commitment. All that walking. And what if you want to go to the beach and he wants to go to the park?” She giggled. There was something strangely intimate in Sinclair trusting her with the story of his failed relationships. She felt closer to him than ever before.
“You’re right. And I travel a lot.”
“You’d have to get your housekeeper to walk it.” She tilted her head. “Housekeepers can handle that kind of responsibility.”
“Sounds like I need a housekeeper more than I need a wife.”
“Lucky thing you already have one.” She sipped her champagne. “And apparently she’s a housekeeper with benefits.” She raised a brow.
Sinclair’s shocked expression made her regret her little jibe. Then his face softened and the look he gave her made her stomach do a somersault. “Which proves, I suppose, that just having a housekeeper isn’t enough.” His voice was gruff, rich with all the emotion he kept buried beneath his chiseled and polished surface.
“You’re a unique individual.” She tried to look arch, like the heroine in a regency novel. Though she wasn’t really sure what arch looked like so she probably didn’t pull it off. “You need a very special housekeeper.” Clearly she was tipsy. Or the dress had once again unleashed a part of her that dared to do things the usual Annie wouldn’t dream of.
“What are you two doing all the way over here?” A voice beckoned to them across the lawn. “Come
