“I didn’t ask you to help me. I’m happy alone!”
“No, you aren’t.” She pointed at me as if daring me to argue, and I didn’t because it was true, but I hated her meddling. I’d never been this embarrassed in my life.
I flipped her off, and she clapped both hands over her mouth, but that didn’t hide her laughter.
“Why are you here without Wick? Did you already have dinner?”
Terrible heat washed over me and I wished I could sink through my chair to the center of the earth and live there. “No, we didn’t go out because we weren’t really on a date.”
She flinched as if I’d smacked her. “Oh yeah? You two were touching each other most of the night, and even if you were trying to play a part, that was a lot. I’d even call it excessive.”
“Go to hell, Lacey Ann.”
“Oh, oh, the middle name!” She pointed and giggled again, and I didn’t have the energy to keep up my end of this verbal war, so I left the table. Edgar gave me what I thought was an apologetic wave from a spot at the bar as I passed by, but I knew Lacey and doubted he’d been the engineer of this fiasco.
Hell, do I owe Wick an apology for all this?I slapped a hand to my face as I pushed open the door and passed the glass frog again.Yes, I probably do.What a fucking night.
The drive to Wick’s estate took me about a half hour. His home was outside of St. Loren in one of those old family plots of land that had been settled since before America was more than a collection of colonies, and his family had been rich for about as long, if not all the way back to the first person to decide to up and leave England—and he could likely tell me the name of the Guidry who’d made that choice. Wick wasn’t stuck up or anything, but I knew he was wealthy and always had been, and I couldn’t help but be a bit intimidated as I slowed at the lane that led to his home. Someone inside must’ve decided I was worthy of entry because the iron gate swung open. The drive was lit with small globes along the edges of the pavement that made approaching the mansion even more breathtaking. I never knew exactly where I was supposed to park, so I stopped in the circle near the front.
A sense of urgency swamped me now that I was here, and I rushed to get out. I stepped onto the white brick path that led to the house, which was painted the same color. Round Grecian pillars supported the roof, and two sets of grand exterior staircases swept upward to a second-floor terrace. Furniture was artfully arranged up there, illuminated by tasteful overhead lighting; although, it didn’t seem as if anyone was outside, so I kept walking forward toward the front door.
Humiliation gripped me again. Wick had more or less been tricked into taking me out tonight. Was he mad at me? Did he hate me? He hadn’t said anything bad—hell, he’d even asked me to dinner and kissed my cheek—but I couldn’t help but wonder if secretly he thought I was behind part of this. Maybe he thought I was a money-grubber trying to trick him into getting closer? Or I wanted something to hold over his head at work? I was rattled. I didn’t believe most of my reaching theories, but I doubted he wanted to take me to bed, which I very much wanted to do with him. The mere idea was enough to make me break out in a cold sweat.
I wasn’t ugly, but I wasn’t the type of man who got hit on all the time, either. I needed to let this fantasy die.
Sighing, I continued walking, but before I reached the door it was opened for me by an older woman in a severe black dress with matching pearls at her throat. Her hair was swept up in a bun without a strand out of place, despite the hour.
“Good evening, Mrs. Riggins.”
She gave me a small, polite smile, the same one I’d received every time I came to the house. “How can I help you tonight, Mr. Baranov?”
“May I please see Mr. Guidry? It’s not urgent.”
She nodded. I never knew what to do around the servants here at Wick’s house, but she didn’t seem to have the same problem as she gestured gracefully for me to follow her up the main staircase. I wasn’t sure why this was always so awkward, because both me and Mrs. Riggins worked for Wick, but she seemed like she was a step above me, maybe because she was part of his home life, which was more intimate and closer to him as a person. A strange mix of emotions swirled in my gut.
Mrs. Riggins led me through a tall archway into a sitting room, or maybe it was a library because every wall was lined with stuffed-full bookshelves. Heavy wood dominated the space, and a white stone fireplace with a carved frieze of horses took up one wall. She gestured at a leather armchair, and I dropped onto the cushioned seat, exhaustion slamming me.
“I’ll inform Mr. Guidry that he has a guest.” Without another glance in my direction, she left, and less than a minute later another woman in a similar black outfit entered the room carrying a tray. She was younger, with a red braid down her back, and she smiled as she set down a carafe of coffee on an end table between the chairs, then did the same with two mugs on saucers. Lastly, she arranged a small tray of accompaniments—cream, honey, and sugar. She didn’t utter even a single peep as she left, and while coffee sounded great because I was getting hungry, I wasn’t sure I could stand to drink anything right now. Wick’s phone burned a hole in my pocket, so I took it out and set it down next to what I had decided was his mug, since it was near the empty chair.
Time passed and I stared at the books. Had he read them or were they an antique collection? The spines seemed to be leather for the most part. Wick entered the room and immediately snagged my attention. I sucked in a deep breath. He was in a black robe made of a material that looked soft to touch, and his hair was wet, as if maybe he’d just gotten out of the shower. He padded barefoot across the thick cream carpet toward me.
“I’m sorry to keep you,” he said, and the confusion on his face had me feeling ten thousand times more awkward than I already did. He hadn’t expected to see me tonight, but did that mean he didn’t want to, or had I simply surprised him? A smile slowly spread across his face and made everything even worse. I’d enjoyed our fake date and wanted to spend more time with him, especially when he was half dressed and handsome. I let out a long, shaky breath.
Fuck, why was I here again? It wasn’t to stare at him barely clothed. I picked up his phone and went over to him, and his smile slipped as I plopped it onto his palm. “Here. I’m sorry about Lacey and the whole setup. I guess that’s what I get for trying to embarrass someone else—a taste of my own medicine. I hope you will be able to forget about this, and I’m sorry you got dragged into her scheming.”
He stared down at his phone for a moment, and I wasn’t prepared when he snagged my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles. The warmth and heat went straight to my groin and I had trouble dragging in a breath. The sharp edge of instant need was too much. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything close to this and I wasn’t ready for the bright punch of lust, especially since I’d seen him do the exact same thing to other people. One little kiss didn’t mean he wanted me or liked me, it was simply a way he showed affection, and sometimes it was even for strangers.
I couldn’t help but love it.
He cleared his throat, and I shivered as a drop of water plopped from his damp hair onto my wrist. “What if I don’t want to forget it? We had fun, didn’t we?”
I studied his gray eyes and sighed. “I’m not in the mood for pranks from you right now.”
He stepped in and the enticing scent of sandalwood and vanilla swarmed my senses. His soft lips on my cheek for the second time tonight stunned me. “I’m not joking.”
5
WICK
