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“There’s no need to lie,” he says.
“What?”
“It wasn’t nice to see me. You’re still mad.”
I take a deep breath before replying. I could pretend he’s wrong, but why bother, when William’s already sized me up perfectly? “I am.”
“Because I saw you naked or because I accused you of being my father’s mistress?”
“Both.”
“I made a mistake. Once again, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For accusing you of being one of my father’s women.”
Not for seeing me naked.Good Lord, how can one man be such a jerk and still be so sexy?
“This bookstore isn’t too far from your work?” he comments. “You don’t have much time before you have to be at my grandmother’s house.”
“You know my schedule?”
“I know everything about Maryann’s life.”
Don’t say anything, Taylor.
“It didn’t look that way during my first few weeks on the job,” I remark, ignoring my inner angel. I guess I have a social death wish.
“I was away for work, but I knew she’d hired you. Or rather, hired another companion.”
“And it never crossed your mind that might’ve been me when you saw me that day?”
“No. I assumed she’d have gotten someone older, like Bonnie.” His gaze takes a long, deliberate walk down my body, as if there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t, which is somehow even more provocative than if he’d spelled it out.
“I really need to go,” I repeat.
“You haven’t explained why you came to a bookstore so far from your work.”
“You know where I live?”
“I do, but don’t take it personally. Like I said, I keep track of everything that concerns my grandmother.” He nods at the box set in my hands. “You’re going to buy those?”
“Yes.”
“Let me pay for them, as a way of apologizing for how I treated you.”
A warning light goes off in my mind—not so much because of what he’s saying but how he’s looking at me. I doubt he’s typically this polite unless he has an ulterior motive—seduction, maybe. He’s probably interested because he’s seen me naked.
“No, thank you,” I reply, yanking my arm away. “I’m buying these for myself. Today’s my birthday, and I decided to do something indulgent: eat a cupcake and treat myself to these lovely books. Have a great day, Mr. Marshall.”
I practically sprint toward the cashier. When I get there, I glance back and realize William has turned too, watching me. My heart, already pounding abnormally since I first spotted him, nearly skips a beat.
The cashier calls for my attention, and after I pay, I look over my shoulder again to see if he’s still there. He isn’t. Like a mirage, he’s vanished.
I almost laugh at the comparison, but then I figure that’s exactly what Mrs. Marshall’s grandson will always be to me: an illusion that could never exist in the same world as mine.
Leo Tolstoy romance.