Page 11 of Crash Landing
“That is an understatement.” Her own family had little tolerance for her independent nature. Her father, whom she loved dearly, would give Trajan an earful about all the ways she had disappointed him, were he ever to ask.
Her mother had not hugged her in years. In truth, she could not recall ever being embraced by this woman who had given birth to her. Perhaps she had been a little difficult as a child, but she could not recall ever doing anything that warranted her mother completely cutting her off from all affection. Her brother disliked her, too. Her father, who ought to have defended her, remained completely indifferent and never raised a finger to help her.
And yet whenever she and her father were alone, he was kind and sometimes complimentary.
The only one who had ever shown her consistent kindness and warmth was Hermia, her dear aunt.
What had she ever done to her parents or brother to make them dislike her so much? She had often asked, but no one would tell her.
Was there even a reason? Or was it something deep and primal that offended them?
If only they would give her a hint. She would move heaven and earth to repair the damage.
And now, her father had cut off her allowance. He had done it upon her mother’s orders, for her mother had wanted to bring her to heel and accept a marriage proposal from the odious son of a family friend. The son was an utter toad with absolutely no prospects, but no one seemed to care.
Florence had refused. She did not need her father’s money, for she was quite resourceful and managed to make a decent living handling investigations for her friends.
They trusted her and knew she would never reveal their secrets.
Of course, this frustrated her family to no end, since they hopedshe would come crawling back to them and agree to marry that simpleton they had chosen for her. True to form, her father, who loved her, buckled to his wife’s demands and insisted she marry the toad.
Perhaps he thought they might grow to love each other. More likely, he did not consider love a necessary factor at all. His idea of a good marriage did not comport with hers.
“I think we would get along well if we married,” Trajan remarked, regaining her attention as they reached the courtyard of his manor. “Even our nighttime engagements would be quite pleasant. That kiss we shared was nice, wasn’t it?”
What?
Their earlier kiss that still had her body thrumming and her lips tingling…not to mention the hidden places that were still vibrating because his touch was unforgettable. “Oh, did we share a kiss? It must have slipped my mind.”
He burst out laughing. “Florence, you are an utter fraud. I might believe you if your cheeks were not on fire.”
“Because I am hot,” she said as they entered the house and he marched her through the exquisite entry hall. She noted the beautiful Italian marble flooring and magnificent crystal chandelier that emitted prisms of light, as the sun happened to strike it at this late morning hour.
He led her through an equally elegant parlor with massive glass doors that opened onto the terrace, and then paused once they were on the terrace to cast her an irritatingly smug grin. “You like me. Your cheeks are still a deep shade of pink.”
She looked up at him and frowned. “Because I amtemperaturehot. Summer-heat hot. Sun-beating-down-on-me hot.Weatherhot and nothing more.”
He led her to a shaded arbor and settled her in one of the cushioned chairs positioned around a delicately patterned wrought irontable. “Admit it, I am the one who brought the heat and scorched you.”
“I think the heat has scorched your brain.” She frowned again. “But I am thirsty and would love a tall glass of lemonade.”
“Yes, I’ll order refreshments for us while we sit out here and enjoy the view. However, the fact remains that you are thirsty for me, too.”
“Hah! You are deluded.”
“See, you are blushing again. You are not a good liar, are you? The drink may cool you down, but I heat you up.” He cast her another smug grin. “Good to know.”
“You are so full of yourself,Your Grace. Stop smirking at me. You will never control me with kisses, even if I happened to like them.”
“Ah, an admission from your lovely lips.”
They said no more as his head butler, no doubt anticipating his master’s orders, brought out a pitcher of lemonade and two crystal glasses.
“Timmons, you are a wonder. I was about to summon you, but you have anticipated my very wish. This is exactly what we need.”
The man cast Florence a kindly glance and nodded. “I thought you and your guest might be in want of a libation.”
“As for my guest, this is Lady Florence Newton. Isn’t she lovely? You may hear rumors abound that we are betrothed.”
