LITMIR.BIZ

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he cares more about his business than he cares about me. If he really loved me he would want to be with me as much as possible. But he doesn’t.”

      “That’s not what it means,” Nick insisted.

      “Yes, it is! I won’t marry a man who cares more about his business than he cares about me!” Cecilia clenched her hands into fists. “You don’t understand! Nobody understands!”

      “Cecilia—”

      “Dear—”

      “What did Aaron dream last night?”

      “I understand.”

      Nick looked up as yet another woman wearing a dressing gown walked into his bedchamber. This one he didn’t know. But Cecilia obviously did because she rushed to her.

      And, Lord, this woman was pretty. Tall, with thick brown hair that curled to her waist. She looked vaguely familiar, but Nick was certain he would have remembered her if they’d met.

      “I couldn’t help but overhearing as I was going down the hall,” she said, gesturing toward the door and casting an apologetic look at Constance.

      “That’s fine,” Constance replied, seeming relieved to have her here. “Go ahead, Amanda.”

      “Amanda?” Nick stared harder at her.

      She ignored him and took both of Cecilia’s hands. “I just went through this same thing with both my cousins, only weeks ago when they married.”

      “Amanda Van Patton?” Nick asked, as a foggy memory crept into his mind.

      “It’s last-minute jitters, that’s all,” Amanda said. “Things seem worse than they really are.”

      “Amanda Van Patton? From San Francisco?”

      “Hush, Nick,” Constance hissed.

      “No,” Cecilia protested. “That’s not the case here. It’s not just jitters.”

      “Yes, it is,” Amanda told her. “Now, listen to me, Cecilia, and listen well. Aaron loves you. You know that. His asking if he could cut the honeymoon short means just that. Nothing more. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, or that he thinks more about his business than he does you. And he did ask you, didn’t he? He didn’t tell you.”

      “Well, yes,” Cecilia said, and sniffed.

      “You’ll be his wife,” Amanda said. “His business responsibilities will be your responsibilities, too. Aaron is a smart man. If he really thinks he needs to come home sooner, then you should consider that he has a valid reason.”

      A heavy silence fell over the room while the wedding of the season hung in the balance. Cecilia chewed her bottom lip. Nick was certain his mother held her breath. He was having a little trouble breathing himself, but for an entirely different reason.

      This woman was Amanda Van Patton? Recollections surfaced in his memory, vaguely matching the beautiful woman who stood in front of him now.

      Finally, Cecilia sniffed and said, “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

      “Talk to Aaron. Listen to what he says. Tell him how you feel,” Amanda said. “You two need to do what’s best for the both of you.”

      “All right,” Cecilia promised, sniffing again and drawing in a breath. “I will.”

      “So the wedding is on?” Constance asked, almost in a whisper, as if afraid of what the answer might be.

      Cecilia pushed her chin up. “It’s on.”

      “Thank goodness,” her mother declared, pressing her hand to her throat. Then she dashed for the door. “I have a hundred things to do today.”

      “I must talk to Aaron right away,” Cecilia declared, hurrying after her.

      “What about your dreams?” Aunt Winnie called, following the other two women. “I must know what you dreamed.”

      Nick hardly noticed the three women leaving the room as he stared at Amanda, standing in profile before him.

      She’d been little more than a child when he’d last seen her. But now she was a woman. All woman.

      Beautiful, yes. But more than that. She’d handled the situation with Cecilia with an intelligence and a command seldom found in women. And that made her even more attractive.

      “Amanda?”

      She turned and gazed up at him with the biggest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Nick’s belly clenched.

      “I didn’t recognize you,” he said. “You don’t look as I remember…but I don’t see how I could have forgotten.”

      Amanda gave him a half smile and wiggled her finger at him. “Actually, what you’ve forgotten is your trousers.”

      She turned briskly and walked out of the room.

      Nick looked down at himself, then slapped his palm against his forehead. “Oh, my God…”

      Chapter Four

      Amanda pushed her bedroom door shut and fell back against it. Heat swept through her, flushing her cheeks and threatening to burn her from the inside out.

      Then she giggled. A silly, schoolgirl giggle.

      Since agreeing to come to the Hastings home she’d worried and wondered what would happen when she saw Nick again. Would she be so overwhelmed by the sight of him that she’d stutter and stammer? Trip over something? Faint dead away? Would she make a fool of herself by his mere presence?

      None of that had happened. Instead, the first time she saw him he’d been in his underwear.

      “What happened?” Dolly asked, turning away from the closet. “Why was Miss Cecilia crying?”

      They’d heard her sobs on their way to the bathroom down the hall. Dolly had returned to Amanda’s room, leaving her to see what the problem was.

      “Everything’s fine with Cecilia. Just last-minute nerves,” Amanda said.

      Dolly’s eyes narrowed. “Then what’s so all-fired funny? I can see that smile on your face, plain as day.”

      “Nothing,” Amanda insisted, trying again to swallow her grin. “It’s nothing.”

      A knock sounded on the door. Amanda’s heart lurched. Was it Nick?

      She admonished herself for having the thought. More than likely it was Constance, coming to thank her for helping. Or Cecilia wanting to talk.

      She opened the door and her heart thundered in her chest. Heat flooded her cheeks again.

      It was Nick.

      In the ten years that had passed since she’d last seen him his features had hardened, become more angular. A straight nose, square jaw, dark full brows…the face of a man looked down at her.

      He’d grown larger, too. His shoulders were wide and straight, his chest full and muscular. Her nose barely reached his chin.

      His dark hair was damp, hanging over his forehead. The white shirt she’d seen him in moments ago was buttoned now, but the tail hung loose and the collar stood open. She glimpsed the fabric of his white cotton undershirt and his coarse, black chest hair curling over the top.

      He also wore trousers.

      He must have hopped into them and hurried after her, because even now he was pulling up his suspenders.

      A moment passed while he just looked at her, as if he’d forgotten what he wanted to say, or perhaps couldn’t bring himself to say it. Amanda didn’t know which. All she knew for certain was that her mouth had grown so dry she couldn’t have answered had he asked her anything.

      Then

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