Everyone filed onto the train, shuffling one by one up the carpeted steps.
Natalie’s neck burned. For good reason, too. Corinne watched her like a hawk from several passengers back, as did her brother and Hallie. Ingram Meyer and his Tommy Bahama hat took up the rear of the line, making no pretense about being zeroed in on August and Natalie. His brows looked so skeptical, they’d almost reached the center of his forehead, and he was obviously unconvinced that Natalie and August were a happily engaged couple.
Maybe such a feat was impossible.
Maybe this was all a huge waste of time.
“This is insane,” Natalie whispered. “I’m insane.”
August leaned down, bringing them nearly eye level. Don’t look at his mouth. Natalie refused to think about the sweep of exhilaration she’d felt when their lips locked together. Her body’s unwise response to this man needed to be the furthest thing from her mind. Pushed way out into the ether, because it didn’t matter. This plan was meant to be a business arrangement—and already it was on shaky ground. Might not even be viable at all.
“What’s insane?” August prompted.
“This. Me. Asking for your help. You just want to make a fool out of me.”
Momentarily, he cast his gaze downward. “I’ll admit I came on a little strong back there. I’m just . . . I’m never comfortable at these things.”
“So you have to make everyone else uncomfortable to compensate?”
“Correct.”
“At least you’re an honest dickhead.”
“The wedding vows practically write themselves,” he muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. “Look, it’s out of my system now. I’ll do better.”
Natalie closed her eyes, acutely aware of Corinne watching them from her position in line. Of course Corinne had spotted the subterfuge right away. Even if the trust fund wasn’t hanging in the balance, giving Natalie a big fat motive for a hasty marriage, never in Natalie’s life had she gotten away with a lie to her mother. Corinne was a human polygraph test that she’d been taking and failing since birth.
That’s not my weed, Mom.
Our test determined that was a lie.
Natalie attempted a small smile at her mother over her shoulder and was given an impassive look in return. Ingram Meyer watched the whole exchange happen, visibly taking mental notes behind shrewd eyes. He really did see everything, didn’t he? Who in this crowd and the town beyond could be considered his eyes and ears? Anyone at any time? Faking this union was going to be a lot more complicated than she’d imagined. “I’m pretty sure it’s too late, Adonis,” she muttered, her gaze straying back to Ingram. “I think we’ve been made.”
August shook his head. “We’ll salvage it.”
“Doubtful. I hope you can get your money back for this ring.” A line popped in August’s cheek. His giant hand was beginning to sweat inside of hers. Was he worried? Obviously. He wanted that bank loan as much as she wanted her trust fund released.
They were almost to the hostess station when one of the passengers squeezed past them toward the exit, crowding Natalie closer to August’s big, warm body. The air was beginning to cool, thanks to the approaching sunset, and she’d accidentally left her black silk jacket in the car. In other words, the heat he gave off felt incredible on her goose-bumped arms. And when she didn’t immediately move away, he angled toward her slowly and corralled her closer with a forearm to her lower back.
“You want my jacket?” he said gruffly, his breath stirring her hair.
That dreaded pulse started beating between her thighs, her toes twitching in her heels. “Oh sure. After catching me off guard, embarrassing me on purpose, and proposing publicly without so much as a discussion, now you want to be chivalrous.”
“How long are you going to stay pissed, Natalie?”
“It only happened ten minutes ago!” she whispered furiously. “We could have had a civil conversation and arranged everything properly. But no. You had to have the upper hand.”
“I’m sorry. All right? Is that what you want to hear? Because I am.” He jerked his chin toward the opening of the train. “You almost said no.”
“I should have said no.” Natalie shook her head. “I should just bite the bullet and ask my father to amend the terms.”
His sturdy frame stiffened, long moments passing while those words hung in the scant space of fading daylight between them. “Hey.” He dropped his mouth to her ear. “We’re in this. Quit talking about backing out. I’m taking this seriously now.”
“Do you really think you’ll be able to take this ruse seriously for an extended period of time, though? Because, according to my mother, we have to share an address, August. For the marriage to be considered viable and for the purposes of the loan. And all you want to do is make me look stupid. I don’t trust you.” Her heart thunked noticeably, dropping lower and lower by the moment. “Oh my God, what have I done?”
He surprised her by pressing their foreheads together. “Natalie.”
“What?”
Three seconds passed. Four. “I will never, ever let you down again. Is that clear?”
The strangest thing happened in the wake of that unexpected vow. The clamminess of her skin subsided and her pulse slowly returned to normal. She found herself nodding, even, because how could she do anything else when she’d never seen him look so serious? Or heard that thread of honor so deeply woven into his tone. This was August the Navy SEAL.
Still, she wasn’t 100 percent ready to take that leap into trusting him. Not after everything. Not when they were so fresh from the stunt he’d pulled. “We’ll see, I guess.”
“You will see,” he countered without the slightest hesitation. “Now are you coming with me to the Lovers’ Nest or not?”
When had August pulled her closer?
Better question. When had she pushed up on her tiptoes so her arms could reach around his neck? She started to retract her touch, but he shook his head. “If I were your real fiancé,” he said quietly, for her ears alone, “this is how I’d hold you. All the time. So this is how we should stay.”
“Right.” The big slabs of his pecs were inches from her mouth and she had the strangest urge to sink her teeth into them. Maybe even had a premonition that he would enjoy it. There will be none of that. “Later, we can h-have an actual discussion and lay down some ground rules. Come up with a timeline for our respective goals. But first and foremost, let me reiterate, there is going to be absolutely zero sex. I cannot stress that enough.”
“It has been stressful, princess. Believe me.” His thumb brushed across her lower spine and a hot shiver went through her, head to toe. “Remind me again why we can’t have sex.”
His voice cracked on the word “sex,” right there against her ear, and a swallow got stuck in her throat. “The reasons have changed, obviously, with this shiny new development. Lines that need to be clear will . . . blur . . . if we go there. But the underlying logic is the same. I can’t let my guard down around you.”
That big hand flexed on her back. “Do you always let your guard down during sex?”
“I mean . . . I have.” She drew the words out, registering her answer even as she spoke it out loud. “Sort of. Let it down. But I definitely can’t let it down with someone who is gleeful about pointing out my shortcomings and poking fun at my insecurities. That’s just self-sabotage.”
He frowned down at her. “What about the fact that you poke fun at my insecurities, too? Wouldn’t it be self-sabotage for me, as well?”
“You are a man. You’d be getting sex. You wouldn’t care.”
“Valid point.” His eyes narrowed further. “So you’re saying you would care?”
“I’m saying I’d beat myself up over giving in while you snored it up on the other side of the bed.”
“You’re so sure you wouldn’t be snoring right there beside me?”
“We’re not going to find out.”
“I’m inclined to agree to anything right now to make you happy, Natalie, but I’m not agreeing to any no sex rules. Sorry. We’re grown adults and if we both want something, we should be able to take it without consulting some arbitrary rulebook.” His chest rose and fell as he pulled her in closer. “If you don’t directly ask me for sex, I’ll respect that. But if you want to be fucked, you’re going to get it. Period, the end.”
Oh damn. That pulse was back and now a damp sensation had been thrown in.
She was aware of every erogenous zone she owned. Her hip blades, the insides of her ankles, her neck and throat and breasts.
This evening could not end quickly enough.
“Ah, here they are,” crooned a man’s voice behind Natalie. She turned to find the general manager of the wine train approaching with his hat sitting jauntily on his head. “The newly engaged lovebirds. Follow me this way, please.” Finally, Natalie unhooked her arms from around August’s neck and trailed after the manager, cool air once again making her arms prickle. “I’ll take you to the Lovers’ Nest.”
“Caw,” August chirped in her ear, sounding like a dying crow. “Caw.”
Natalie elbowed him in the stomach.
He chuckled.
And dropped his jacket around her shoulders.
I will never, ever let you down again. Is that clear?
His words bounced around in her head over and over again on their way up to the second floor of the train. He couldn’t possibly mean that, could he? No way. Just lulling her into a false sense of security. Still, her mind continued to replay that intense vow, the seriousness of his tone. Almost like he’d been trying to engrave those words on her brain. Yet he’d left something unspoken, buried between the lines.
But no. That’s ridiculous.
The manager led them to the farthest corner of the train’s second floor and stopped in front of a high-backed, red velvet swivel chair, the sides curved for ultimate privacy. It could face the train car or the window, depending on how it was turned. With a smile of pure anticipation on his face, the manager hit a button and a small fireplace bloomed to life beneath the picture window that would display their view of Napa’s rolling hills on the train ride.
But . . .
“There is only one chair,” Natalie pointed out.
“Oh, is there?” The man feigned surprise. “Surely it’s big enough for two. You won’t know unless you try!”
“Have you seen this man?” She jerked a thumb in August’s direction. “He’s the actual Yeti. He probably won’t even be able to fit into it by himself.”
The man looked momentarily thrown, but he rallied with a tip of his hat. “I’ll leave you to your own devices,” the manager sang, backing away, clearly committed to the belief that he was doing them a favor. And even Natalie had to admit . . . the setting was nothing short of sickeningly romantic. The pink-gold sunset burnished the velvet swivel chair in a glow and the fire crackled. A bottle of wine sat open on a side table with two glasses. Had her relationship with August been real, she’d be obligated to ovulate.
Natalie turned to August with the intention of informing him they would just sit in a couple of the regular seats, like the handful of inaugural ride passengers who were now making their way up to the second floor. Before she could open her mouth, however, he dropped into the deep swivel chair, stretched his long legs out, and patted his thigh. “Your throne awaits, princess.”
“I am not sitting . . .” Realizing the other passengers were within earshot, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “I am not sitting on your lap in this public pleasure den. What do they expect us to do here?”
August considered the curved and extended sides of the swivel chair that were obviously meant to block them from view. “Some groping at the very least.”
Please tell me that my nipples aren’t tingling. “Grope me and live to regret it.”
“Fine.” He sighed, running a hand down his tie. “You can grope me.”
“You mispronounced ‘strangle.’”
His answering laugh fell silent after a moment and he leaned forward. “Natalie.” He tucked his tongue into his cheek. “We’re not convincing anybody.”
A familiar laugh came from the direction of the stairs and Natalie glanced over to find Hallie’s blond curls among the crowd of newcomers to the second floor. Which meant her brother wouldn’t be far behind. Hallie was speaking with the British woman who owned the donut shop in town, Fudge Judy, and if memory served, she loved to gossip. Everyone from the mayor to the teenagers of St. Helena frequented the shop. Behind them were several other business owners and ladies who lunch—all eager to get eyes on the newly engaged couple. Being standoffish with her supposed fiancé would be noticed and commented on. Maybe, according to her mother, even reported back to Ingram Meyer?
Natalie looked down at August, who was now staring into the fire. Back in the tent, she’d made a split-second decision. Either jump into this subterfuge with both feet and form a convincing union . . . or call it off immediately—and put herself back at square one. She’d looked down at August on one knee, his expression earnest and hopeful and . . . she’d felt something unnamed, but poignant, move inside of her, causing her to choose the former. Natalie and August were now engaged in the eyes of the St. Helena elite.
This marriage of convenience had been her idea. August arriving out of the blue like a wrecking ball had caught her off guard outside, but right now? If she didn’t swallow her pride, this plan was going to sink them both before it even started.
In finance, her credo was go big or go home.
Obviously it hadn’t always paid off, considering she’d gone big and . . . gotten sent home.
Doubts were piling up about the wisdom of this arrangement. But it was the solution to her problem. A way forward. And if she didn’t seize it with both hands, the chance would pass her by. Through the crowd, she met Hallie’s eyes. Saw her brother’s tall frame moving into view and it occurred to her, if she brought shame on the family name, all of Julian’s hard work to restore the winery would go down the drain.
God, she couldn’t do that. No chance.
There was no more time to waffle.
With a deep inhale, Natalie set down her clutch on the side table, hesitated a moment, then parked her backside on August’s thigh. Obviously he’d expected her to stand for the whole ride or sit somewhere else, because his eyebrows shot up, that big paw going to the small of her back automatically, his fingers splaying on the base of her spine.
“I should probably just keep my mouth shut,” he said, his voice lower by several octaves, “so I don’t say anything to fuck this up.”
“That would be the smartest thing you’ve ever done.”
“Yeah, wow. Engaged for twenty minutes and I’m already a changed man.” She watched in the reflection of the window as August’s attention ran down the slope of her neck. Felt his heart accelerate against her shoulder. “But I can’t help but point out . . .”
“God, you refuse to get out of your own way.”
“That maybe you’re afraid to kiss me.”
She pinned him with a look, her pulse quickening over their position—faces no more than a few inches apart, his hand braced on her back protectively, fingertips curling slightly as if he wanted to pull her closer. All the way into his lap. His five-o’clock shadow, which hadn’t been visible upon his arrival, was beginning to darken his jaw and his tie was slightly crooked. A rugged soldier forced into a suit and a marriage. For her. With her.
They were a team whether she liked it or not. Natalie had a feeling the next thing out of his mouth would put her firmly in the or not camp.
“Why am I afraid to kiss you? Besides your overall repellency, I mean.”
He gave a cocky shrug. “You’re scared to enjoy it.”
“Do you actually think I’m going to fall for this?” she sputtered.
“Fall for what? It’s the truth. You can’t stand my ass, but if we kissed, you’d forget.”
“To hate you?” She scoffed. “Not likely.”
As if to call her bluff, a loud whistle went off and the train lurched forward, sending Natalie crashing into August’s chest, her butt sliding neatly into his lap, where she was galled to find that it fit like a glove. He hissed in a breath, his hand leaving her back in order to grip the edge of the velvet chair. “Look, might as well warn you, I’m going to get hard.”
“Seriously?” His fly swelled beneath her bottom rapidly, turning her skin flush. Not excited. She was not excited. Maybe if she kept repeating those words, they would become true. “Been a while?”
“Ten minutes or ten years celibate, I’d still be hard with that butt in position for a good time, Natalie. But, yeah, since we’re on the subject, it’s been a while. You?”
She couldn’t quite hide her surprise that he’d admitted a dry spell out loud. Surprised enough to speak her own truth without thinking. “Yes. You were supposed to be my rebound.”
“Rebound from what?” he asked sharply, his chest muscles hardening against her.
That’s right. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t. Why would he? “I was engaged.” She strove to keep her tone light. “In New York. Now I’m not.”
It took several moments for him to process that, a veritable canyon forming between his eyebrows. “Why?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Not right now.”
Those long fingers flexed on her back. “Is he still in the picture?”
“No.” For some reason, she felt compelled to look him in the eye and impress her answer on him. “No. You and I just got engaged, August. Obviously he’s not.”
Relief seemed to make his pupils expand. “Good.”
“Good?”
Several seconds ticked by wherein she found herself studying the indent in the center of his bottom lip. The stubble appearing just over the firmer top one. And why was there something . . . annoyingly sexy about her feet not touching the ground while sitting in his lap? “That’s what I said. Good,” he repeated, something flickering in his eyes. “Wouldn’t want to have to fend off any competition for my fake fiancée, right?”
“Right.” That tiny sink of disappointment she felt was incredibly unhealthy. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that.”
A muscle snapped in his cheek. “Good.”
“Stop saying ‘good.’”
“Great.” Tension coiled between them like a copper spring and she couldn’t quite place a finger on the source. Arousal—his, not hers—was the obvious answer, but there seemed to be something more. She was being challenged in some way, though, that much was obvious. August had leaned in, bringing his mouth within an inch of hers. They were completely shielded from the rest of the train car. Napa danced by in all its rich, sunset-drenched splendor, vineyard vines threading toward rolling hills and fading sunlight, but she was barely aware of any of it. Only this man’s breath on her mouth and his strength surrounding her. “Just so we’re clear, Natalie, I wouldn’t have any problem fending off some city boy in loafers.”
Please tell me that my vaginal walls did not flex in response to that. “Jesus. Leave it to you to have a pissing contest with someone you’ve never met.”
Why was she breathing so fast?
Her words tripped over themselves on the way out and he only moved closer, his hand opening wide on her hip and squeezing, his lips making the barest contact with hers. “Rebound, huh?”
“Is that what you’re mad about?”
“Who said I’m mad?”
“Your face.”
Their lips were all but flush now. “Maybe I’m just pissed I missed my chance to help you move on from your broken engagement.”
“I have moved on.”
“Prove it, princess.” Ever so briefly, his tongue touched the seam of her mouth and fingers of lust raked up her inner thighs. “Convince this train full of your fellow wine snobs that you’re dying to walk down the aisle with me.”
Bastard. “To this day, no one in St. Helena has ever beaten my record for shots taken at a party. Sixteen shots, August. I should by all accounts be dead. Before me, the record stood at fifteen.”
“Proud of you, girl, but why are you telling me this?”
“So you understand that I don’t lose. Not when I’m challenged.”
A rumble went off in his chest. “Getting that mouth on mine won’t be a loss.”
Slowly, she wound his tie around her fist and used her body to guide him back into the dark interior of the Lovers’ Nest chair, turning so her breasts were pressed high to his chest. “Are you sure about that?”
“Sure as I’ve ever been about anything,” August said with confidence.
But when she twisted a little in his lap, he gulped.
“Fuck” was the last thing he said before Natalie settled her mouth over his and kissed him in a way that was pure foreplay. Wet lips dragged right to left, teasing, showing him what her mouth could do elsewhere. And based on the rigid rise of his erection under her butt, he was definitely thinking about it. A lot. She framed his bristled jaw with her right hand and tugged his chin down, opening his mouth, giving her the access to lick deep, once, twice, three times, leisurely and savoring, tasting his hearty groan and feeling his muscles tense to the point of snapping. “I see what you’re doing now,” he uttered between kisses. “You’re going to get me hot and leave me hanging, aren’t you?”
“Congratulations,” she panted. “You’re not as dumb as you look.”
He tilted her chin up, glazed eyes looking down at her. “You’re underestimating how much I love a challenge, too, princess.”
She would not be making that mistake again.
Before she knew what was happening, August’s fingers slid up into her hair and fisted a thick bunch of it, using his grip to tilt back her head. Expose her neck. And then . . . oh. Oh God. His teeth and the tip of his tongue and his lips moved like a sensual trio up the curve of her throat, then over to the right. To a spot behind her ear that had her toes spreading so quickly, one of her heels fell to the floor with a thwack.
“I can’t believe you waited until we’re on a train full of people to kiss me again.” His teeth closed around the shell of her ear and razed up and down, up and down. “Maybe you did it on purpose because you know exactly what we’d be doing if we were alone.”
“Fighting?”
“Fucking.” He licked a circle behind her ear, traced a path back to her mouth, and suctioned her lips into a hard kiss. “But I’d start with two fingers in deep between your legs and I’d keep them there until you’re wet enough to take it hard.”
More vaginal flexing. Accompanied by a soft moan she tried to disguise with a cough.
Fooling no one.
The tables were quickly being turned.
She could see him in her mind’s eye, moving roughly on top of her in a mess of bedding, her ankles locked behind his big, flexing back. They would be agitated and sweaty and trying to outdo each other and it would be mind-blowing, but she would regret it afterward. Giving in to this man who thought she was nothing more than a spoiled brat.
Time to regain the upper hand.
“Maybe I’d be giving instead of taking,” she murmured, dragging a finger down the front of his shirt and toying with his belt buckle, reveling in the way his breath stuttered. “It might be so good you wouldn’t even make it to home base.”
“Princess, if I had to slide home on a bed of razor blades, I’d make it to that base with you.” He bit off a sound. “Stop moving that tight ass, or I swear to God . . .”
“What?” She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and rotated her hips, enjoying the privilege of watching his eyes glaze over. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Cry, probably.”
A laugh hopscotched out of her. A genuine giggle at his strained admission.
Eyes closed, he smiled against her mouth.
Something unexpected leapt in Natalie’s chest and her lips paused in the act of teasing him into another kiss. What the heck was that? Under no circumstances should anything be happening in the place between her brain and her vagina. He’d been ready to leave town. He would have left town if it wasn’t for her offer to help him secure a loan. He’d pegged her as a spoiled rich girl. They weren’t even in a real relationship, yet he’d already firmly rejected everything about her. It would be a waste of time and energy trying to prove him wrong. Especially when their potential arrangement was founded on the release of her very healthy trust fund.
She’d be wasting her breath.
“Come back here,” he rasped, studying her. “Torture me. I can take it.”
Get up. She needed to get up.
They’d almost definitely been spotted kissing in the reflection of the window. The purpose of the Lovers’ Nest had been served. So why was she leaning in again, craving the fullness of his lips and the way his hands traveled over her slowly, memorizing the dip of her side, the shape of her kneecaps, everywhere.
Natalie’s mouth was half a centimeter from August’s, her heart pounding riotously. The gauntlet between them was blurring. This kiss was going to be all about pleasure. Exploring. Them. Desperately, she tried to recall all the insults about her drinking and the way he’d intentionally blindsided her in the tent, but all she could feel was his heart banging like crazy and her own leapt in response to the proof that he was so affected—
“Natalie.”
It took her a full five seconds to realize her mother was speaking.
From where?
Natalie lifted her head and leaned to the side and there was Corinne, arms folded across her trim middle, regarding her with an impassive expression. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Caught making out by my mother. Did I accidentally board the train back to middle school?”
“Could we speak privately, please?” Corinne continued.
“One minute.”
Natalie ducked back into the privacy of the chair, willing her face back to a normal temperature.
August’s head dropped back on a groan. “Christ.”
“Antichrist is more her vibe, actually.”
His chest rose and fell on a pained laugh. “You’ll have to give me a minute. Or . . . sixty. For this thing to go down.”
“In that case, definitely don’t think about me going down,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Natalie,” he gritted out.
She dropped her mouth to his ear and let out a warm breath that made him shiver and clutch at the side of her dress. “Looks like I win, rat king.”
His jaw popped. “This time.”
“This is the only time this will happen. We’ve made our point.”
“Unfortunately I’ve still got mine,” he muttered, nodding at his lap.
“Gross,” she snapped, even though she felt the fluttering of a laugh build in her throat, and climbed off his lap. “Get yourself together while I”—she locked eyes with Corinne—“speak to my beautiful mother.”
Corinne rolled her eyes and walked away.
Natalie followed, smiling and thanking people who congratulated her as she passed. When they reached a quiet corner of the train car, Corinne kept a serene smile on her face, but there was no mistaking the temper in her eyes. “Don’t you think it would have been nice to give us a little prewarning before roping your brother and me into this stunt?”
“Yes, I do, actually. That was my intention—”
“In the space of thirty minutes, you and this . . . ape have turned us into a spectacle.”
All at once, Natalie’s blood rose to a rollicking boil. “He’s a war veteran. A Navy SEAL. Don’t ever talk about him like that again.”
Her mother’s mouth snapped shut, but she regrouped quickly. Natalie, however, did not. Since when was she so passionate about defending this man who was supposed to be her enemy? She could insult him until the cows came home, but someone else attempted it and she bit their head off? “You threw wine in this man’s face at the Bouquets and Beginners competition two days ago. Do you not think everyone in town knows about it? Do you not think they’re wondering how you could go from enemies to engaged so quickly?”
Natalie’s cheeks heated. At this rate, she was going to burn off a layer of skin. “Couples argue. You should know that better than anyone. It’s not so hard to swallow the idea that we were in the middle of a spat.”
The other woman was already shaking her head. “You are going to humiliate this family, the same way you did in high school.”
Natalie reared back like she’d been slapped. Her body retreated from the sharp reprimand—and her back came up hard against an immovable object. Startled, she tilted her head to find August behind her, frowning. First at her and then at her mother. “Everything okay, princess?”
Corinne scoffed at the nickname. Natalie watched her mother wage a war between manners and her obvious anger. Surprisingly, the anger won. Instead of shaking hands with August and saying something to smooth over the uncomfortable situation as she normally would, Corinne sailed past them with a tight smile and approached a different group, launching into a boring round of small talk about the train’s restored vintage fixtures.
“How much did you hear?” Natalie asked without turning around.
A beat passed. “Some.”
Based on his gruff tone, he’d heard the part about her humiliating the family. “Great. I guess I spoke too soon.” She didn’t know what to do with her arms. Cross them. Gesture without purpose. Hug her middle. “You win tonight’s battle.”
They stood in silence a moment. Then August surprised her by taking hold of her right hand and leading her back toward the Lovers’ Nest. He dropped into the seat and pulled her down after him. She didn’t have the energy to fight him or pretend his warmth wasn’t welcome and, a moment later, she found her head tucked beneath August’s chin, her legs draped over his thighs, watching Napa go by in the silence.
“Let’s call it a tie for tonight,” he rumbled.
Natalie, experiencing the shock of a lifetime, closed her eyes and nodded.
His voice turned soothing against her ear. “I’m going to rent a tux and you’re going to put on a pretty dress. Or pants. I value my balls, so I’m not telling you what to wear, I just like your legs. A lot. Basically, they belong in a museum.” She sniffed a thank-you and he patted her on the head. “We’re going to say the vows and then I’m going to bring you home to my psychotic-ass cat. We might even bond over trying to defend ourselves against her feline evil. If we manage to survive each other—and Menace—we are going to stick this thing out until you have the money to start your firm. Okay?”
Had anyone ever made an effort to reassure her like this?
Maybe Julian, when she first returned home and felt horribly out of place being back in St. Helena. But her brother’s efforts didn’t strike like this. Not so thoroughly.
How odd that it would be August to calm her down after he’d spent so long riling her up.
“Okay,” she agreed, testing a hand on his chest. “And your loan.”
A pause went by. “Yeah, princess. That, too.”
And she left her palm over his heartbeat, feeling the steady pound, while the train trundled on against the endless sky, his chin eventually coming to rest on top of her head. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Ha.
