“No.” He shook his head. “Can you believe it?”
Meredith stepped toward him and put a hand on hisshoulder. He wanted to turn his head and graze her hand with his cheek. He wanted to close his eyes and feel her soft skin against his. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on hers.
“I wouldn’t paymuch mind to what Ash says about marriage,” Meredith replied with a breezy little laugh, patting Griffin’s shoulder.
She was doing her utmost to feign nonchalance because her skin had gone clammy. Her heart thundered in her chest. The deeper they’d got into this conversation, the more uncomfortable she’d felt. Because it wasn’t just him following her to the club. It wasn’t just him not telling her who he was before he’d made love to her. Now she realized that she was the woman Griffin had been talking about when he’d said he already knew who he would marry. He was talking abouther. He wanted to marryher.
She’d swallowed a sob that had risen in her throat.
She couldn’t let him say it. She couldn’t. Because that would make it real, and she would have to refuse him. And then their friendship would never be the same. And her heart would shatter.
Griffin couldn’t marry her. He had to marry someone who could give him an heir.
“If I tell her how I feel,” Griffin continued, “I would deprive you of your final guesses.”
Meredith pulled her hand away, turned, and closed her eyes. This was excruciating. “Yes, you wouldn’t want to do that.”
“I also admit I worry she may not return my feelings.” His voice was filled with emotion. It made Meredith’s heart ache.
She forced a cheerful smile to her lips and turned back to face him. “If she doesn’t, there are plenty of other ladies?—”
“No,” Griffin breathed. “There is no other lady for me.”
Meredith held her breath. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. This was too much. They needed to leave. Go back home. Pretend none of these words had ever been said.
“Do you remember what you told me that Clare said to you during your last visit?” Griffin asked, tossing a small stone in the air and catching it.
Of course she did. She’d told him that Clare thoughttheywould end up together. Meredith had said it as if it were the most ludicrous notion in the world—she’d even used the word “ludicrous”—but she’d said it.
Meredith frowned. She had to play dumb. There was no other way out of this. “What Clare said?” She tapped her jaw with her gloved finger. “Wait a moment. Do you mean—?” Her eyes went wide.
“Yes?” he prompted, searching her face.
She cupped a hand over her mouth and did her best to feign surprise. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. The answer has been right under my nose this entire time. Could it be?”
He wiped the back of his hand across his brow. “Say it,” he murmured.
“Clare!” Meredith said it in the most unassuming manner she could. Of course she didn’t believe for one moment it was Clare, but she had to say something to keep him from naming her. Because she couldn’t allow him to say it aloud and change everything. She just couldn’t.
Griffin closed his eyes briefly. “Clare?” He shook his head. “No. Not Clare.”
Meredith let her face fall as if disappointed in her incorrect guess.
“No more guesses today,”Griffin snapped.
Meredith was obviously pretending, but he wasn’t about to force her to name herself. It had all happened too fast, been too soon. He wouldn’t push any more today.
“Very well.” Meredith smoothed her skirts, obviously happy to change the subject again. She expelled a long, deep breath. “Let’s discuss Gemma’s prospects then, shall we?”
Griffin’s shoulders relaxed. An excellent idea. Gemmawasa much less frustrating subject. “I saw Gemma dancing with Lord Driscoll the other night. She seemed to be enjoying herself.”
Meredith shrugged. “I thought so too, but according to Gemma, he was far too loud.”
Griffin furrowed his brow. “Loud?”
Meredith nodded. “Afraid so.”
“I don’t blame her then. Loud doesn’t sound pleasant at all.”
