Lord Bachelor

by Tammy L. Bailey

  Shocked out of his anger, he shook his head. “What?”

  Abby continued, unfazed, thrusting a finger toward his chest. “So don’t you dare stand there and tell me how much more you’ve missed me. That would make you a hypocrite.”

  He truly didn’t know what to say. She’d caught him off guard with her innocent, yet hellishly alluring attire and confusing accusations.

  “For the record, I haven’t made love to a woman in over six months, despite what people might say.” He told the truth. He might have lain down with an appalling number of women, but it didn’t mean he’d had sex with them all. There was such a thing as discretion, even for someone like him.

  Abby had started to say something else until the meaning of his words sank in. In a winded whisper, she repeated what he’d said. “Six months?”

  He let out a quick exhale. “Yes, and do you know how long that is for a man?”

  She nibbled on her lower lip. “Is this similar to calculating dog years?”

  “No, no.” He closed his eyes for a long second. “No, Miss Forester, it’s not. Six months is an excruciatingly long time, especially if for some of that time, the man has been unable to think of anyone else but you!”

  This silenced her.

  “Furthermore, on the subject of hypocrites…” He paused to take out his phone and show her the picture someone sent him anonymously a few hours ago. She scrunched her eyes at the screen until they grew large with recognition.

  “Oh.”

  “Oh? That’s all you have to say. Oh?” He slammed the phone back into his pocket. “Why was he here, Abby?” Edmund knew he sounded like a crazed fool, but he didn’t care. She’d turned him into one.

  “It’s not what you think,” she assured him.

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. The picture clearly shows two people hugging, at least one of them very much in love with the other.”

  He supposed he deserved losing her to the man. While Tommy remained here, Edmund had willingly agreed to spend three nights with three different women. He’d meant to treat it as a test of his faithfulness to Abby. Without even trying, he found himself more devoted to her than before.

  Convinced they belonged together, for richer or poorer, he refused to engage Courtney, Sierra, or Zella in anything but conversation. He found Sierra the most accepting, realizing soon enough she much preferred a life’s devotion to animals and environmental causes over people.

  As he expected, Zella squawked liked an angry goose, even finding the first available male to try to make him jealous. She was immature, selfish, shallow, and—like Courtney—talked about nothing except what they wanted him to do for them. He realized he loathed people like this.

  For a long time, he’d loathed himself. It was a harsh and cold reality.

  Then he’d received the photo of Tommy and Abby, locked in an intimate embrace, the new door he’d walked through only ten minutes ago showing behind them. Edmund had stormed out of the resort in a fit of rage. He wondered who might have sent it and kept returning to the same conclusion.

  Raify.

  Of course, on the way back to Portland, he had some time to calm down from his initial reaction, realizing he hadn’t planned on what he was going to say or do, afraid the truth might set him in a tailspin of sorts.

  When he found Kendra here, her hand poised to strike Abby for what looked like the second time, his body shook. He would protect Abby with his life, no matter whom she chose. He loved her and it had taken this long to admit it or even know what it meant.

  The admission brought him to where she stood, barefoot and scantily dressed. With his breath heightened and the blood rushing through his veins, he reached out and pulled her against him. He relished in the feel of her unbound breasts pressing hard against his thin button-down. Then his thoughts flashed to her and Tommy, and the possibility of never touching her again. He forced her away, agonizing in the choices he’d made.

  “God, what you do to me,” he said, lifting his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. For weeks now, he’d wanted to sink himself deep inside her, make her his, without ultimatums or circumstances.

  At her glorious, monstrously uncomfortable bed, he sat down. He’d not even taken a short breath before the buzzer crackled in his left ear.

  “Abby, are you there?” Tommy’s distorted voice echoed from the speaker next to her bed.

  Edmund straightened, and narrowed his gaze on her statuesque form, her eyes wide and unblinking.

  He said nothing as he tossed his head toward the ancient device, regretting his prompting right away. The last thing he wanted was to shove her back in the arms of someone who’d already proven his devotion to her.

  With her chin raised, she wandered at an uncomfortable pace toward the intercom. She hesitated for a moment before pressing the button and placing her mouth close to the speaker. “Yes, I’m…I’m here.”

  “Good. I have something I’d like to ask you. Can I come up?”

  “No! No,” she said, softening her voice. “I’ll come down.”

  She dropped her hand and backed away, avoiding glancing in Edmund’s direction.

  Edmund suddenly changed his mind. “Don’t go,” he said, his voice strained, close to begging.

  She didn’t say a word, twisting toward the staircase and moving in front of him. At the last moment, he reached out and grasped her wrist. She didn’t resist him as he stood, his body coiled so tight every muscle hurt.

  “Stay with me,” he said, placing his forehead against hers. Despite his jealous anger, he wanted to give her the opportunity to prove what he’d asked and what she said, during the last taping, was true.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Abby felt the swift and fierce beating of Edmund’s heart, her palm laid against it for support. “I have to find out what he wants.”

  Edmund’s hand lifted to cradle her cheek. “I think we both know what he wants, Abby,” he said, his voice husky, his lips so close to brushing hers.

  She didn’t know how to explain it to him, but she needed to find closure with her and Tommy. She supposed she’d left their relationship open to speculation too long. Stringing him along wasn’t fair to either one of them. “I have to go.”

  Determined to do what was right, she stepped away, grasped a light jacket, and descended the staircase toward the door.

  She loved Tommy, but in a different way, the way a friend would love another friend. Grateful for the fading day, the sun hidden behind a stretch of purple and gray clouds, she opened the door and placed herself a few feet from where he stood. He appeared nervous, his hands stuffed inside a purple windbreaker.

  Unusually chilly, she wrapped the jacket tighter around her midsection and shifted her bare feet on the gritty pavement. Unsure of how to start the discussion, she waited for Tommy to begin, his gaze darting from her to across the street and back again.

  “Have you heard from Edmund?” he finally asked.

  “Yes,” she said, not offering up any more details.

  “What did he say?”

  Abby dropped her shoulders. “Is this what you wanted to ask me?”

  His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed at a steady cadence. “No, of course not. I came to ask you—”

  Abby closed her eyes, unable to bear seeing her friend struggle so much. He was trying to save her…again. Only, this time she didn’t want saving. “I love you, and I always will…love you.” She bit her lip to keep it steady. The last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt him. “But I’m in love with Edmund.” She rushed out the words after a long, awkward silence.

  “I know you’re in love with him. Hell, everyone knows you’re in love with him, but how do you expect to fit into his world, Abby? He is champagne and caviar and you are…marshmallow cereal and apple juice.”

  She tried not to blanch from his fiery words. “And we fit? We’ve been down this road before, Tommy, and it was the wrong way.”

  He grasped both of her arms. “That was then. Now,
I know you’re the woman I want to spend the rest of my life—”

  “Stop.” She held her hands to break away and to keep him from saying anything else. “I don’t want to get married, not for the reasons you think I need to get married, Tommy. I want something greater than simply not wanting to be alone. And I want something greater, greater…than this.” She lifted her hand up to indicate the shop. “I want him, even if it’s all just a short-lived fairytale.”

  Tommy’s dark eyebrows furrowed over his black eyes. She leaned up and kissed his cheek before backing away. “Sometimes, the path we see is not always the one we’re supposed to take.” Those words seemed foreign to her, since she’d only chosen the most familiar, most unburdened path all of her life.

  He nodded. “I’m leaving for California in a few hours. At least there I can’t see you get run over.”

  He walked away, a proud man who would never grovel for what he wanted. Abby, afraid to go back upstairs and find Edmund gone, stayed on the sidewalk until a twittering bird reminded her she had her own home to return to. With each step up the straight staircase, her heart beat a little harder and sank a little deeper.

  When Abby crossed the threshold and turned to where she’d left Edmund, her body shuddered at the now abandoned space. Dropping to her bed, she placed her head in her hands and allowed a sob to tear from her chest.

  She had no doubt Edmund had used the fire escape in the bathroom, probably having overheard her tell Tommy she loved him, and not sticking around to hear anything else. Never in her life had she felt so alone. For so long, she’d remained secure in her small, simple world. And in a matter of weeks, she’d thrust open the door to a man whose complexity left her head spinning. What made her ever believe he’d want her?

  “Abby?” At first she thought the distant sound of her name was nothing but wishful thinking. “Abby?” Edmund’s deep, poetic voice called her name again.

  She let her hands fall, finding his beautiful and rumpled form standing before her.

  “I…thought you’d left,” she said, followed by a hiccup.

  “I meant to,” he said, his gaze steady upon her face. He looked like a man who’d been in a fight, his jacket open, and his shirt half unbuttoned, exposing his smooth, sinewy chest.

  “Seeing you go to him was one of the most painful things I’ve ever experienced. That, and—” he said, then shrugged, “—smashing my fist into his face.”

  She laughed, despite the tears still spilling from her eyes. She remembered that moment, when he tried to salvage her honor. “I thought he deserved the truth, Edmund.”

  He nodded. “And what is that?” He stepped closer, an intimidating move to her jumbled nerves. His features, less tense than before, made her guess if something had changed somewhere between the fire escape and now. “And remember, I can tell when you’re lying,” he said, the side of his mouth lifting in a half smile.

  She stood, debating on what to say. God, she didn’t want to tell him what she’d told Tommy. Edmund didn’t ask for her to fall in love with him. Hadn’t he warned her on more than a few occasions that he didn’t want to hurt her?

  Tommy’s words came back to haunt her. What if he was right? What if the first time she decided not to take the unburdened and simple road, she was met with a heartache so great she’d never be able to recover? No matter how much Edmund cared, he was still a titled gentleman and she, a simple girl from Oregon.

  “So, you had an awful time?” she asked, trying to change the subject. For whatever reason, she’d rather talk about his harem than confess anything that might send him dashing for the staircase.

  He cocked one dusty eyebrow at her and reached out his hand. She sidestepped his efforts, twisting away from him. He was much quicker and he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her midsection, hauling her back against his front. His tender mouth pressed close to her right ear.

  “I want to hear you say it.” His hot, tantalizing breath against her skin sent an exhilarating shiver down her spine. Then she realized, he knew. Oh, God, he knew and he was going to make her admit it before they’d even talked about his regard for her. She glanced at the relic she called an intercom and chastised herself for not replacing the blasted thing sooner.

  His arms wrapped tighter around her waist. The warmth of his body drew her closer, deeper against him. She felt the hardness of his chest and the rapid beating of his heart. She could lie, she thought. He couldn’t see her nose wrinkle in this position, or do whatever it did when she chose to exaggerate the truth.

  Then, he turned her around to face him. Oh, hell. His eyes, like an exalted sea, held her captive. He was more handsome than any man she’d ever known. With his soothing breath touching her skin, stirring a longing so deep she didn’t know how to contain it, she closed her eyes and confessed. “I…love you.”

  When she opened her eyes, one lid at a time, he was smiling at her. He hadn’t run. He hadn’t even flinched. “Now, how hard was that?”

  She started to answer when his mouth found hers, searching and persuasive. His hands reached up to hold both sides of her head, tilting it to gain full and amorous entry.

  Her knees buckled under his proneness, her arms wrapping around his back to keep from falling and to draw him closer. The warmth of his body, the crisp cleanness of his skin sent her senses reeling.

  ****

  Edmund had never meant to eavesdrop, finding the fire escape well enough. Yet, when she’d confessed that she was in love with him…him, not his money or his title or the thousands of presents he could give her over the years, he couldn’t move any farther. The words echoed throughout her small space and inside his heart. For now, he didn’t want to think about anyone else but her. The time spent apart had been brutal, and he realized she was all he wanted, too.

  With his hands fisting into the back of her T-shirt, her tongue sliding like silk against his, he had no desire to stop or to think about anything that might jeopardize his time with her. That was until his phone vibrated inside his jacket.

  Abby let out a frustrated groan as he struggled to discard the pulsating piece of clothing. The call ended, giving them a second or two of complete silence. Then, Abby’s phone began to jiggle on her bedside table, the touchscreen lighting up the darkening room.

  “Don’t answer it,” Edmund murmured, reaching up to cradle her neck and draw her against him again. She did as he asked, her fingers reaching up to fumble with the buttons of his shirt, his lips lowering to drink in more of her sweet mouth.

  They continued on the path of inexplicable obsession when the back of Abby’s knees hit the table, sending her phone crashing to the floor.

  “Hello?” came the familiar frantic tone of Will Simpson.

  “Bloody hell,” Edmund said between clenched teeth, trying to catch his breath. He held onto Abby, unwilling to let her go.

  “We really should get him some help after all this is over,” Abby said after he laid his forehead against hers.

  “That or a straitjacket.”

  Abby’s incandescent blue eyes lit up. “I vote straitjacket. A really tight one.”

  Edmund kissed her firmly before pulling away and taking the liberty to answer her phone, in an American accent. “Hello, who is this?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I was trying to reach…Abby Forester.”

  “You have,” Edmund said, placing an index finger over his lips. Abby covered her mouth with both of her hands to keep from laughing, and he delighted in seeing her so entertained.

  Will’s voice began to crack. “Is Abby available?”

  Edmund cleared his throat and smiled. “I’m afraid she’s naked…in the bathtub…at the moment.”

  “Naked?”

  “Yes…naked.”

  “Naked? Who the hell are you?”

  Edmund ended the call, feeling a tad remorseful for putting his friend through such rubbish. Edmund’s guilt dissipated as soon as the muffled ring sounded in his discarded jacket a few feet away.


  “Your turn,” he said to Abby.

  He watched in lucid fascination as she padded across the floor, retrieving his device with such eloquent deceitfulness. For his pleasure, she pressed the speaker for him to hear.

  “’Ello,” she answered. “Who is zis?”

  “Jesus Christ. You’re killing me, Edmund!” Will shouted, hanging up before Abby could demonstrate the full use of her foreign accent, some sort of French-Russian combination.

  They both fell upon her bed, clutching their stomachs, their backs to the mattress. They laughed until tears slid from the corners of their eyes, and Edmund never wanted this moment to end. In the now-silent room, he reached for her hand to fold inside his.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, still staring skyward.

  “Oh, I really wished you hadn’t asked me that.” Her voice was soft and thoughtful.

  He flipped onto his right side, bracing his jaw on his still-bruised knuckles. “And why is that, love?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, her long dark lashes fluttering against her creamy cheekbones. “I thought I could handle you with the others, until I heard Courtney bragging about you and her, and meeting your parents in some house in Paris.”

  Edmund lifted an index finger under Abby’s chin and guided her face toward his. She flipped her eyelids open and stared up at him. The night had grown late, her bedside lamp the only light illuminating the room and the soft curve of her round cheek.

  “I probably should have told you, but my father passed away a few years ago. There is only my mother, and she hates Paris. What Courtney said could not be true.”

  Abby’s dainty eyebrows furrowed together. “Oh.” She then added, “I’m sorry about your father.”

  He shook his head. “I wasn’t very close to him. He was a detached man who led a double life, neither of which did he wish to include me.” Until now, Edmund thought bitterly. Then he need only to gaze into Abby’s face and wonder how much to thank his father for his ghostly intervention. In Edmund’s silence, Abby sighed and turned her face away.