“Me, too,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her cheek with a touch of his Irish mischief. “Cute hat.”
“Thanks.” She smiled, feeling less teary as her heart hummed to his familiar banter.
…
Rosco placed his hand over hers, holding her love to his heart. She loved him and she was smiling again.
He looked down at her, thrilled that his goldfish love note had freed her to be happy. And he loved the way her feelings mirrored his own.
But it wasn’t quite enough. They needed to sort through the rubbish as well. Seal it away for good. He needed her to know he would always have her back. He would never let her down as his father had his mother.
“I’m sorry. The tabloid stuff…” His voice broke as he hugged her closer. “I’d give anything to protect you from that.”
“I felt so angry and trapped. The bullying, stupidity of it all. For you and me. It burned. Like a fire inside me.”
“Aye. You’re a hot woman.” He smiled, his own eyes as moist as hers. “That’s when I knew I loved you. When you told me you’d still work with me even though I could see you were hurting.”
“I was scared, though.”
“Me, too. I thought I’d lost you.”
“Our true privacy isn’t lost. No one shared our under-the-table and Chopper House worlds.”
“I think it’s safe to assume not even the tabloids could conjure up your under-the-table trick. Only you could make old tablecloths sexy.”
That under-the-table sparkle returned to her eyes, tempting him to skip the Trinity St. George saga, but it needed to be finished between them. He stepped back, held her at arm’s length, ensuring he could watch her lovely brown eyes grow serious and understand how she had changed his life for the better.
He’d keep it short because he didn’t want to pass on the anger and revulsion he’d felt when making the call. “I phoned Trinity St. George. Withdrew from the palace contest.”
“No. That was so important to you, to your mother’s company.” Kitty stiffened in his arms. “My fault.”
“Not your fault. My fault for clinging to old wounds. My wounds. My mother wouldn’t have tolerated the games. I didn’t realize I was playing along. But I was giving them power over my mind when I thought I was in control.”
“What did she say?” Kitty shook him. “I already know you are above their games.”
“She sort of purred, dripping with a love of gossip. Self-righteous hypocrite. She said she was sorry to see me in the scandal media, and I told her I wasn’t sorry as it made her intentions clear. I terminated my business with her. Told her I would never consider a contract with her.”
“Did she mention me?”
“No.” That was true, and he hadn’t used Kitty’s name once with that woman. “You were right about her. She’s a fake, keeping up her facade to the end. If she’d admitted knowing you she’d be vulnerable to questions about herself.”
“That’s what I remember from growing up. I expected the same behind your smart London door.”
“Well, you were wrong about that.” He understood her horror at the paparazzi now. She’d been brought up in all that negative drama, and it wasn’t her.
They were empty people, his father and her mother. He hated their cheating, drinking ways. But to allow their influence to reach out and drive him to lock himself away from the risks of love was to deny himself of all that was good.
“You called yourself double trouble, Kitty. But you were wrong about that, too.” He watched her eyes cloud then clear as he raised her hand to his lips. “It’s your mother and my father who are our double troubles. They owe us our childhoods. But now, together, we owe them—they’ve shown us what not to be—and they brought us together.”
Still holding her hand, he kissed away the tears on her cheeks. Tears of love with the promise of laughter to follow. “We’re so alike, Kitty.”
“Yes. We were both grounded in hurt. But now,” she said, the sparkle he loved returning to her loving brown eyes. “Now, I feel we’ve set each other free to fly. Like your goldfish banner. Wherever our love takes us.”
“Home, soon, would be good. In fact, right now I’ll be needing a new home,” he said, thumbing her mouth in a lazy circle. “Amanda and Andrew have taken over the townhouse. Could you find me a bed for a while?”
“You can have mine.” Her smile against his thumb had his heart kicking with need and love.
“That’s a fine offer. Would there be anything I could do to thank you?”
“Unwrap me.” She stretched, caught his mouth briefly, softly, with hers. “Unwrap me on top of our world.”
“I’m your man.”
He released her coat buttons, burrowed his hands beneath her clothes to claim the warm skin at her waist, and reveled in her answering gasp of pleasure.
“You’re even better at this than I remember.
He bent to gently graze her welcoming lips with his. There was no hurry. “We’re making new memories now. Golden, lifetime memories.”
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Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Jo and Gwen for their invaluable friendship and support, and to Wendy Chen, my editor at Entangled Publishing.
About the Author
Suzi Jennings lives in New Zealand and writes international stories of love and laughter. It all started in childhood when she fell in love with reading, scribbled stories about princesses in castles, and grew up to spend way too much money on books.
She writes warm and witty contemporary romances where family secrets, powerful friendships and enduring loves heal hearts and forge happy-ever-afters.
Her characters are feisty, flirty, fun—and talkative! It’s a match made in keyboard heaven as Suzi is more than happy to listen. They get their stories told and Suzi gets to enjoy their journeys to each happy ending.
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Tangling with the London Tycoon Page 18