Page 13 of Forbidden Noble
He let her go and chose a pair of pants. “You make everything sound simple.”
Last night all of his muscles had somehow made her tremble and she was still riding that high. “Well, you certainly know how to take care of me. I want to help you too.”
His voice was deep as he said, “You can’t help me, but you can be an amazing duchess.”
High-class wasn’t exactly her forte. She’d read books but that wasn’t the same thing. She couldn’t even pretend well. At one of Rossie’s early events, she’d almost torched the wedding arch she’d been assigned to decorate. She'd accidentally picked up her flamethrower from her gig as a locksmith the night before instead of her glue gun. She’d refused her best friend’s wedding business because she’d known she’d screw it up. “I’ll do my best but don't expect too much.”
He tugged on his pants and she grabbed a black dress the dressmaker had altered for her. Having designer clothes made her feel like a movie star. Duchesses probably had to dress like this all the time.
Clara closed the door and showered, washing all of the leftover hairspray out of her roots. Should she tell him how she used to live, so that he knew she wasn't qualified to be a duchess? Once dry, she slipped on the dress, and came out of the bathroom with her zipper slightly open. Hopefully Astorre would help her as she couldn’t reach without twisting.
She showed him her back and he zipped her up without her having to ask. Clara turned toward him, took his hand and a deep breath. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
He gave her a quizzical glance and then motioned toward the balcony.
Good idea. The sun glittered on the blue water giving them a gorgeous view to enjoy their coffee. He held the door for her. “About?”
It would be easier to show him because he had no idea of what living paycheck to paycheck was like. She patted his arm, returned to the room, grabbed her phone, and met him on the balcony. Clara opened her phone with her password. “Look, on my phone I have all these apps for services.”
She opened her "work" folder and a dozen task-oriented apps showed up as he asked, “Yes?”
Clara pointed to them. “I was living odd job to odd job. Two weeks ago I was mowing a lawn on Star Island for one of the Morgans.”
He tilted his head but then walked away, holding her phone.
Her heart pounded. She’d ruined everything already? Her stomach twisted as she wasn’t sure what to do, but then he returned holding her cell and two cups of coffee. He handed her the phone back along with a cup. “Why not get a fulltime job?”
Clara pocketed the phone and lifted her coffee. The warm brew smelled delicious and made her mouth water. “Because… it’s stupid now.” She took a cautious sip and was instantly awakened.
“What is?”
Guess it was time to tell the full truth and let the chips fall where they may. They sat at the table and she stirred her coffee though she hadn’t added anything to it. “I never could hold a job for long. The companies I worked for, even the department stores, all closed. I took it personally when two corporations went belly-up, though I was only working the register.”
He sipped his coffee. Today was a clear day and she could see the horizon of the ocean and the Rock of Gibraltar with no clouds in sight. “So you had bad luck with employment?”
In this seat, with this view, her past seemed like it no longer mattered. Maybe it didn’t, but she wanted to be honest with Astorre. “I’ve cleaned toilets, moved furniture, unpacked boxes--anything above-board that paid the rent that wouldn't allow my bad luck to ruin anymore businesses.”
“Bad luck?”
“I've lost two sets of parents, closed down two companies when I did work full time… so, I figure I’m bad luck. It's why I don’t settle into anything for too long.”
He finished his coffee and put the cup down, then reached for her hand. “You can soak your hands now…you won’t need to do manual labor.”
She jerked when his thumb caressed her flesh and almost yanked her hand back. Did he hate her skin? She settled in her seat and stayed still, enjoying his touch. “I’m just saying I have a bad track record for work. But I didn’t ruin Rossie’s happily-ever-after, and since I’ve been in Europe, I haven't screwed anything up.”
His lips curved upward to show off his sexy dimples and cleft chin. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”
Huh? Her eyes widened. “Oh my goodness. What did I do?”
He leaned closer and spoke quietly, “Last night you and I screwed very well.”
Oh. A loud laugh escaped her mouth and she freed her hands to wipe her teary eyes. She hadn’t messed up then. Clara relaxed in her chair and shrugged. “Ah, so you know American slang.”
He flashed a devilish smile. “Only some, and all sex related.”
She sat forward, exuding calm though her insides trembled. “Well, I figure you can’t be anymore screwed up than I already am, so who knows?”
He lost his glee as his face hardened. “Who knows what?”
