style="font-size:15px;"> For the first time, the tension in his broad shoulders eased visibly, and a trace of his trademark grin lightened his face. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Fiona.”
She bristled. “What does that mean?”
“You’re special. You see the world in a way us mere mortals don’t. I envy you that.”
The quiet sincerity in his voice and the genuine compliment reminded her of all the reasons she had fallen for his charms the first time. And the second. His habitual smile was an inexplicable combination of sweet and sexy. For a man who stood six three in his stocking feet and carried himself like an athlete, the hint of boyish candor caught her off guard again and again.
What could it hurt if she accompanied him to his father’s service? It was an hour of her life, maybe less. She sighed inwardly, already losing the battle. “What day is the funeral?”
Now he definitely looked guilty. “Today.”
She gaped at him. “Today today?”
“In an hour and a half.”
Her temper ramped to a slow boil. “And you seriously thought you could simply waltz in here, demand my cooperation and get what you want?”
“No,” he said forcefully. “No.” The second denial was quieter. “I was hoping, Fee. Just hoping.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, and he didn’t move. She gave him points for that. Everything in her past interactions with him suggested that he could indeed get what he wanted with little more than a kiss. But Hartley didn’t try any funny business. All he did was ask.
Before she could formulate an answer, he grimaced. “I know I owe you explanations for my behavior. If you’ll do me the kindness of standing beside me this afternoon, I swear I’ll tell you whatever you want to know afterward. I won’t run out. Not this time.”
She searched his face for the truth. “Why are things awkward with your siblings? Isn’t your brother your twin? I seem to recall you telling me that. Aren’t twins supposed to be tight?”
“I did something to upset my father and Jonathan, my brother. I was written out of the will. And to be honest, maybe I deserved it. But I love my family. They’re everything to me. I would like to heal the rift...if that’s even possible.”
He could have wheedled. Or flirted. Or even pressured. Instead, he simply stood there. Looking at her. So intently that her nipples tightened beneath the soft cotton of her bra. She hadn’t imagined the physical connection between them. It was as real today as it was the other times he had blasted into her world. As real as the mantel clock that ticked a steady rhythm.
“Okay. I’ll go with you.” A platonic date to a funeral didn’t mean she was capitulating a third time. “I can be ready in half an hour. Will that do?”
He nodded. “Thank you, Fiona.” His gaze was sober. “I appreciate it.”
“Wait for me here. If the doorbell rings, please answer it. I’m expecting some packages.”
Hartley watched her walk away, wishing he could join her in the shower and forget that his life was imploding. It was nothing short of a miracle that she had agreed to go with him. Because of the situation he was in and the looming stress of seeing his family again, he had to slam the lid on all the erotic memories this small house contained.
His gut was in a knot, but the burning dread eased. With Fee beside him, he could get through this afternoon.
Before he could pull out his phone and check his email, a loud knock sounded at the door. The uniformed delivery man on the porch was beaming when Hartley answered the summons, but his smile faded.
“I have some packages,” he said.
Hartley didn’t call him out on the awkward, unnecessary explanation. “I see that,” he said mildly.
The kid, barely twenty at most, tried to peer inside the house. “Fiona needs to sign for this delivery.”
Hartley’s territorial instincts kicked in. “Ms. James is in the shower.”
The young man recognized the veiled rebuke. His face flushed. “You could do it, I suppose.”
“I supposed I could.” Hartley scrawled his name and handed back the electronic clipboard. “I’ll tell her you said hello.”
Three large boxes changed hands. Hartley gave the poor schmuck a terse nod and closed the door firmly. He couldn’t blame the kid for having a crush, but Fiona deserved a man in her life.
The irony of that didn’t escape him. In fact, now that he had Fee in his corner, he could spare a moment to wonder what she had been up to in the weeks and months he had been traveling the world. Was there a man somewhere who would protest Hartley’s current involvement in her life?
His stomach-curling distaste for that thought told him he was more invested than he wanted to admit. It seemed impossible he could be obsessed with a woman he had known for less than a week, collectively. Yet of all the people in his life who could have been persuaded to accompany him to his father’s funeral, Hartley had chosen Fiona.
The momentary peace he experienced deep in his heart told him he had made the right decision.
A lot of things were going to change in the next weeks and months. Even if his brother didn’t trust him and his sister would reproach him for being gone so long, the three of them would have to work together to settle their father’s affairs.
Only Hartley knew how very difficult that was going to be.
A noise in the hall brought his head up. His breath caught in his throat. “Fiona,” he croaked. “You look amazing.”
Her classic black dress was sleeveless and knee length. Sexy black sandals showcased slender legs. She had tried to tame her medium-length hair with two antique tortoiseshell combs. Now fiery curls framed her elfin face. “Is this okay?” she asked. “To be honest, I haven’t been to a funeral in a very long time.” She toyed with the simple pearl earrings that matched the necklace at her throat.
“You’re perfect,” he said.
Fiona avoided funerals on a good day. Attending this particular one on the arm of the man who had treated her so shabbily didn’t make sense.
Yet here she was.
Charleston, in all her low-country charm, basked in the summer sun. The city was a unique amalgam of Southern gentility and a lingering painful past. Palm trees and horse-drawn carriages. Elegant secluded courtyards. And everywhere, the patina of old money. Farther out from the city, pockets of poverty existed, but here in the historic district, wealth and social position held sway.
By the time Fiona and Hartley made it to the upscale funeral home in the heart of town, she knew she was
