Page 22 of Courting Catherine
She wriggled her fingers. “Fine. Why don’t you hang your keys on the pegboard?”
He did so. “Do you realize you’ve never called me by name?”
“Of course I have.”
“No, you’ve called me names, but never by my name.” He lifted a hand to gesture the thought away. “In any case, I need to talk to you.”
“Listen, if it’s about the house, this really isn’t the time or place.”
“It isn’t, precisely.”
“Oh.” She looked at him, feeling that odd little jolt in her heart. “I’m really getting backed up. Can it wait until you pick up your car?”
He wasn’t used to waiting for anything. “It won’t take long. I feel I should warn you, as I believe you’re as unaware as I was, of your aunt’s plans.”
“Aunt Coco? What plans?”
“The white-lace-and-orange-blossom type of plans.”
Her expression went from baffled to stunned to suspicious. “Marriage? That’s absurd. Aunt Coco’s not planning to be married. She doesn’t even see anyone seriously.”
“I don’t think she’s the candidate.” He walked toward her, keeping his eyes on her. “You are.”
Her laugh was quick and full of fun as she sat on the edge of the desk. “Me? Married? That’s rich.”
“Yes, and so am I.’
Her laughter dried up. Using the palms of her hands, she levered herself off the desk. When she spoke, her voice was very cool, with licks of temper beneath. “Exactly what are you implying?”
“That your aunt, for reasons of her own, invited me here not only to look over the house, but her four very attractive nieces.”
Her face went dead pale, as he now knew it did when she was desperately angry. “That’s insulting.”
“That’s a fact.”
“Get out.” She gave him one hard shove toward the door. “Get out. Get your keys, your car and your ridiculous accusations and get out.”
“Hold on and shut up for one minute.” He took her firmly by the shoulders. “Just one minute, and when I’m done if you still think I’m being ridiculous, I’ll leave.”
“I know you’re ridiculous. And conceited, and arrogant. If you think for one minute that I have—have designs on you—”
“Not you,” he corrected with a little shake. “Your well-meaning aunt. ‘Why don’t you show Trenton the garden, C.C.? The flowers are exquisite in the moonlight.’”
“She was just being polite.”
“In a pig’s eye. Do you know how I spent my morning?”
“I couldn’t be less interested.”
“Looking through photo albums.” He saw the anger turn to distress and pressed on. “Dozens of them. You were quite the adorable child, Catherine.”
“Oh, God.”
“And bright, too, according to your doting aunt. Spelling bee champ in the third grade.”
With a strangled groan, she lowered to the desk again.
“Not a single cavity in your mouth.”
