Page 8 of Falling For The Enemy (The Gilbert Curse)

“Palmer. I like it. So your family is from around here?” she asked.

He exhaled, releasing the tension that had been roiling through him. “We were for a bit. When the factory closed, we moved,” he told her. “I was in college on the West Coast so didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“What did you study?”

“Business management.”

She frowned.

“I’m a CEO, so it’s served me well.”

She shook her head and took a sip of her coffee. “It’s just sopractical.”

She made it sound like it was the most boring job in the world. And honestly, she wasn’t wrong. But he’d made the choice he had to in order to help his family survive. It wasn’t exactly a dream job but he hadn’t had her financial power to fall back on.

“Not all of us were born into the Gilbert family,” he reminded her.

“Fair enough. I wasn’t even thinking of that. I’m sorry,” she said.

She sounded contrite and when she looked away from him, he realized he’d made her anxious again.

“What’s worrying you?”

“Not trying to make excuses, but I haven’t had a lot of conversations with anyone not related to me since I came out of the coma. Sorry to use that for my reason for everything but I truly didn’t mean for that to come out—”

“Stop,” he said, taking her hand in his and rubbing his thumb against the inside of her wrist. “It’s okay. I think I’m a little bit sensitive when it comes to my past.”

“You are? Why? You seem like someone who’s got everything together.”

“I have insecurities just like everyone else,” he admitted.

She turned her hand in his, lacing her fingers through his, and a bolt of pure desire went through him. Their hands fit so well together, almost like he knew their bodies would. He wasn’t sure what he expected Dash Gilbert’s sister to be like but it certainly wasn’t Rory. She was charming, shy and flirty but in an understated and almost innocent way. Made sense given she’d been in a coma for ten years.

A tendril had come free and curled against her cheek. There was something about this woman that stirred him to the core. And for a moment, he forgot she was a Gilbert and just enjoyed the thrill of being turned on. He shifted his legs as he started to get hard and looked instead into her eyes.

“Of course you do,” she said. “One of the things my therapist told me was that just because I felt like I’m being held together with yarn doesn’t mean everyone else has a solid foundation. Sorry again.”

Kit lifted her hand and brought it to his mouth because he wanted to touch her and this might be the only time he could and not want more. Brushing his lips against the back of her hand, he rasped, “Apology accepted, and going forward you have nothing more to apologize for.”

She shivered a little as his lips had grazed the back of her hand and then licked her lips and gave him that innocent smile of hers. The one he was sure she had no idea affected him as deeply as it did. But he knew he had to get his head back in the game. He had to stop looking at Rory and just seeing her as a woman he wanted. He had to—what? For the first time that he could remember, he wanted someone for himself.

Wrong woman, dumbass.

“You don’t have to apologize either,” she said.

Kit nodded. “So your list. I have about two hours free this afternoon. Is there something small we could tackle?”

She took another sip of her iced coffee, closing her eyes as she did so. “Hmm. This drink is so good,” she said before pausing, as if this was the biggest question of her life. “Not really. Today was meant to be a get-to-know-each-other day. What do you suggest? Whatever you propose, I’m pretty sure I haven’t done it.”

“I haven’t been back here for a while. Should we walk through the shops on Main Street?”

“No. I’ve done that. But what if instead of the shops, we go toward the path by the river?” Her eyes lit up. “I heard there are some wild blackberries growing down there. Maybe we can pick some and I’ll make you a pie.”

A pie? It was the last thing he expected of an heiress. But it suited Rory. It was almost too easy to picture her picking berries and making a pie. He had to admit that was another thing that made him want to kiss her.

“All right. Have you seen any?” he asked.

“No. I haven’t had anyone willing to walk down the path with me. It’s sort of steep and ‘rough’ according to Dash, but the truth is he thinks I should be carried everywhere.”

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