"Terribly," Victoria said softly. "I seem to be drawn to situations that are completely inappropriate and entirely inadvisable."
They were standing very close now, close enough that Sasha could see the way Victoria's pupils had dilated in the dim light from the house. Close enough to count the freckles across her nose, to notice the way her lips parted slightly when she breathed.
"Inadvisable how?" Sasha asked, though she was fairly certain she already knew the answer.
"Well," Victoria said, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper, "for starters, you're supposedly dating my brother."
"Only supposedly."
"Still rather complicated."
"I like complicated."
Victoria's hand moved, just slightly, and her fingers brushed against Sasha's wrist. The contact was electric, sending shivers up Sasha's arm. "Do you?" she asked.
Before Sasha could answer, the terrace door opened with a creak, and Ambrose's voice cut through the charged atmosphere like a bucket of cold water.
"There you are! I've been looking everywhere… " He stopped abruptly, taking in their proximity and what was undoubtedly a guilty expression on both their faces. "Please tell me I’m not interrupting anything."
Chapter Nine
Victoria made her excuses about checking emails and disappeared into the house with the sort of purposeful stride that suggested she had very important business to attend to. Or was running away from something. Given the charged atmosphere they'd just generated on the terrace, Sasha suspected the latter.
"Well," Ambrose said, appearing at her elbow with two glasses of brandy, "that was subtle."
"I don't know what you mean." Sasha accepted the drink gratefully. After the dinner disaster, she needed something stronger than wine.
"Right. And I'm completely straight and madly in love with you." Ambrose settled into one of the wrought iron chairs. "So what's going on with my sister?"
"Nothing's going on with your sister."
"Sasha."
"Nothing inappropriate is going on with your sister," she amended, which was technically true since Victoria had fled before anything could happen. Not that nothing could have happened. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of it.
Ambrose studied her with the sort of knowing look that came from three years of friendship. "You do realize she's not actually available, don't you? I mean, beyond the obvious complications of her being my sister and you being my fake girlfriend."
"What do you mean?"
"Victoria doesn't do casual. She doesn't do relationships that don't fit into her five-year plan. And she certainly doesn't do anything that might complicate her perfect image." Ambrose swirled his brandy thoughtfully. "Trust me, whatever you think you felt out here, it's not going anywhere."
Sasha felt a stab of something that might have been disappointment. "I wasn't expecting it to go anywhere."
"Weren't you?"
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. She wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, to be honest. This whole free holiday thing was starting to spiral out of control.
Before she could come up with an answer, Ambrose continued, "Besides, we have more pressing concerns. Like the fact that I nearly referred to Lukas as 'darling' at dinner when talking about the gardens with dad, and that you invented a cricket injury. Or was it polo? Or… fencing? Really?"
"That was inspired improvisation."
"That was panic." Ambrose slumped back in his chair. "I'm a disaster, Sash. An absolute disaster."
Sasha looked at her best friend, noting the slump of his shoulders and the defeated expression. This wasn't the confident, charming Ambrose she knew. "You're not a disaster."
"I am. I'm twenty-eight years old and I'm lying to my grandmother about who I am because I'm too much of a coward to disappoint her."
"You're not a coward."
