Nerves and the terror that she might have made an awful mistake, only to discover that the equanimity with which he’d heard her out and accepted her proposal had killed a silly little ray of hope in her heart…
Nor would she forget the humorous quirk to his mouth and the glint of devilry in his eyes as he’d surveyed this bedroom on that night. Because, luxurious though it was, it contained a single bed—a king-size single not much smaller than a double, but nevertheless, perhaps a ridiculous gesture on her part, she brooded. Not to mention a sheer nuisance, since she’d had to get all its bedding custom-made, king-single linen to match her dusky-blue and pearl decor being impossible to come by.
She grimaced. Young and stupid she’d been, but was she only now about to discover just how young and stupid? She’d certainly had an inkling, as the milestone of her first anniversary approached and she’d found herself unable to come to any decision about her marriage, that—what? She was staring down the barrel of a gun? That she’d foolishly expected something to crop up, some resolution to present itself, only to find that she was still at square one?
If only she could find the key to the enigma that was Alex Constantin, she thought a little wildly, and walked into the room. The bed was unmade, but otherwise it was fairly tidy. He’d hung up his suit from the night before, his shirt was in the linen basket; only his tie was carelessly discarded over the back of a blue velvet chair. She picked it up and sat down on the bed, running the length of silk through her fingers.
Other than an exquisite pearl shell on the bureau, Alex had brought nothing to this room. No photos or memorabilia from his pre-marriage days. And his study in the apartment was the same. Functional, sometimes untidy, but essentially impersonal—so much so it was she who had added some blown-up photos of the beautiful bays and rivers that housed his pearl farms. Was he just that kind of man or were his treasures and mementoes stored elsewhere? At the Fannie Bay house of his parents? At—she shivered suddenly—a separate residence he maintained for entertaining his mistress?
I won’t do it, she thought abruptly, and got up to hang his tie on the tie rack in his cupboard. I won’t agree to a real marriage with Alex Constantin until I know without doubt that he is…madly in love with me!
She stared at his ties rebelliously, then went to change for her lunch date with his mother.
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