Page 87 of The Lost Heiress
This last one was a joke, but Ransom didn’t even crack a smile.
“Oh, I remember,” Ana said. “That it will all be over soon?”
“Yes,” he said dryly. “That does have a nice ring to it.”
They watched the others taking their turns. Saoirse and Teddy were out in front. Teddy was talking to Saoirse, but they were already too far away for Ana to really hear what he was saying. She saw Saoirse roll her eyes and then lean forward, focusing on her shot.
Ana glanced back over at Ransom, who was watching the others, too, not looking at her. He was being weird. Standoffish. Cool. She wanted to break whatever this strangeness was that had settled between them.
“I got you something,” Ana said.
Ransom looked over at her.
“It’s, uh, back in my room,” Ana went on. “I went into town the other day and found a copy of Judy Blume’sAre You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret. I thought you might like to read it.”
Ransom kept his face blank, a vacant stare. Then, he looked away.
“I don’t know why I’d want to read a silly children’s book,” he said.
Ana blinked at him. She wasn’t sure if he was making a joke, or whether or not she should laugh. “I’m sorry?” she said.
“Miss Rojas, if I’m being perfectly blunt, you’re behaving a bit more familiar than I find appropriate,” Ransom said. “I am your employer, and you are my employee, and the only matter on which we are to converse is my sister. Other than that, as far as I’m concerned, we have nothing to say to one another.”
Ana stood, shell shocked at his words. She felt as if she had just been slapped. “I don’t understand,” Ana said when she finally found her voice.
“Well, I don’t know how I can state it any more clearly,” Ransom said.
“The other day, at the pool—” Ana started, but Ransom cut her off.
“If I gave you the wrong impression the other day, then I apologize,” Ransom said quickly, clearly impatient for the conversation to be over.
The wrong impression? It had been more than that. He had pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He had said the words out loud, how he didn’t want to just be her friend. And now he wanted to act like none of that had ever happened?
“You kissed me,” Ana said.
“A momentary lapse in judgment,” Ransom said. “I assure you, Miss Rojas, it won’t happen again.”
Ana’s cheeks flamed. Of course, it wasn’t just about the kiss. She had shared things with him, and he had opened up to her. He had seen her, really seen her, and she thought she had done the same for him. But now she could feel the stark difference in how he looked at her, the way he held himself, tall and bracing, like an impenetrable wall. What the hell had happened? Ana didn’t understand it.
“It’s your turn, Miss Rojas,” Ransom said, nodding toward the ball. “We’re all waiting.”
Ana glared at him but didn’t answer. She dropped her mallet in the grass and turned back toward the house. She had to get away from here; she couldn’t let him see. There were tears pricking the backs of her eyes—tears of anger, yes, but also something else.
She didn’t offer any explanation, just strode purposefully toward the house, toward her room. But what was most disheartening was that he didn’t ask. He didn’t call after her or ask her to stop; he just let her go.
Chapter Thirty-Five
August 28, 1982—The Day Of Saoirse’s Birthday Party
The ballroom was nearly full by the time Ransom showered, dressed, and came down for dinner. When he reached his assigned table, his cousin, Hugh, got up to greet him.
“There he is, Mr. Congressman, our family’s shining star, our saving grace,” Hugh said, giving him a hug.
“Hugh, it’s good to see you,” Ransom said. “I understand I have you to thank for the synchronized swimmers in the pool?” he asked as he took his seat.
“If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s throw a party,” Hugh said. Hugh’s gaze slid over Ransom’s shoulder, and his eyes lit up. “My God,” Hugh said. “Who is this beautiful creature?”
Ransom turned in his chair. Ana stood behind him, dressed in the blue-green Yves Saint Laurent gown he had picked out for her that day on Rodeo Drive. It skimmed the curves of her body, the slit climbing all the way up her thigh. It was strapless, the neckline straight, showing off her bare shoulders and the olive tone of her skin. Her hair was sleek and straight, parted on the side and slicked back into a low ponytail that fell down her back. She wore a simple silver chain and pendant at the baseof her neck. Ransom had never found collarbones so attractive before. He recalled that day in the pool when he had run his hands over them and down her shoulders and felt a deep fervent thrumming of desire pulse through him. He swallowed hard.
