Playing the Playboy (14 page)

There was a pause, during which Damon must have said something that frustrated Andrew. He made a face, just before he turned away from Laurel. Even then his posture looked too stiff. “Okay,” he said at last. “Okay. I’ll call him. Then I’ll fly out tomorrow and show him what we have.”

When he hung up, he took a deep breath before he turned around.

She smiled at him sympathetically. “Harrison?”

“He thinks Harrison might have a better handle on the situation, which is probably true. And he doesn’t want to commit to anything without covering all the bases.”

“Okay.” She twisted her hands nervously. It was one thing to trust Andrew. It was much harder to trust his uncle and brother, whom she didn’t even know. It put her in a vulnerable position she wasn’t used to, letting her whole future rest in the hands of men who cared nothing about her.

“It’ll be fine,” Andrew said, his voice growing softer as he sat beside her. “My brother’s a good guy. And my uncle is unyielding in some ways, but he’s always fair. If he believes the inn doesn’t belong to my family, he won’t pursue it. I promise. He would never take advantage of you.”

She nodded, looking up at him, feeling comforted and lot more secure at the sight of his strong face and tender eyes.

She had an inexplicably poignant moment, wondering what she would ever do without him.

It reminded her that she needed to tell him the truth about how she’d acted when they first met. Maybe she’d get the courage this evening.

“So you’re going to France tomorrow?” she asked, shaking away the strange feeling.

“Yes, I have to.” He paused. Then, “Did you want to come with me?”

She did.

***

Andrew tried to call his brother once more as he pulled a rental car into the drive leading to the villa Harrison and his girlfriend, Marietta, had been renting for the last two months.

Laurel and Andrew had taken a private jet from Santorini to Marseille, and from there they’d driven to the villa just outside of Aix. They’d gotten a late start, so the sun was already starting to set.

Andrew hadn’t been able to reach his brother on the phone in two days, and that fact was obviously starting to annoy him. It was unsettling to Laurel too.

She would never have started out on a trip without ensuring that whomever she was visiting was indeed present and waiting for her. Evidently the Damons functioned differently.

“What will we do if they’re not here?” she asked, as Andrew pulled the car around the house to the garage in the back.

He shifted the car into park. “We’ll figure something out. I’m sure there’s a window we can jimmy.”

“Well, if you have your handy multi-tool, you can probably break in.”

She gave him a teasing look, hoping to nudge him out of his frustrated mood. He grinned when he looked at her expression and reached over to cup her face in an affectionate gesture.

She leaned into his hand briefly, relishing the unfamiliar experience of being understood, valued, appreciated by a man who wasn’t afraid to show her.

Jerry had loved her, but he’d always held her at a distance, treated her like she wasn’t an equal partner.

Andrew wasn’t like that at all.

Then, because they actually had business to accomplish and her personality hadn’t changed, she pulled away from his hand and got out of the car. They walked around to the front of the house and knocked.

“I don’t think they’re here.” Laurel dropped her canvas bag from her shoulder to the ground. “What will we do?”

He looked baffled and slightly embarrassed. After a few seconds, he smiled down at her. “I’m really impressing you, aren’t I? Our first trip together, and we can’t even get in the door.”

She chuckled, torn between ironic amusement and a giddy excitement about what his words might imply. “I’m sure there’s a hotel around here where we can stay.”

“Let’s see if we can get in the house first. It would be easier to wait for them here. Maybe they just went out for the evening. I’m sure we can find something to do in the meantime.” He twitched his eyebrows with a naughty implication that was impossible to misinterpret.

His comment didn’t explain why Harrison hadn’t returned the call from yesterday, but she didn’t want to break the mood between them with tedious reality. Flushing a little in pleasure at the idea of making love to Andrew again, Laurel studied the lock on the door. “It looks like this one might be harder to pick. Do you think you can do it?”

“I doubt it. I’m not really an expert lockpick, and this is a sophisticated lock. Actually, the villa probably has a security system.” He sighed. “Sorry. I assumed we’d be able to reach him by now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, sliding her arms around his neck. “I’ve never been to Provence before. It’s so beautiful.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. Then he leaned down to kiss her, just a soft pressure of his lips. “I’m usually more impressive than this,” he murmured, his voice a little husky in a way that gave her shivers.

Her heart, even more than her body, responded to the affection and warmth in his expression. “I think you’re very impressive.”

He kissed her again, more deeply this time. She responded eagerly. But, just as she was really getting into it, another slice of guilt cut through the sensations.

She shouldn’t be kissing him like this unless she was willing to tell him about how she’d tricked him that first day.

She pulled back—not out of his arms but far enough away to meet his eyes. She liked that he was taller than her. A lot of men weren’t.

“What’s wrong?”

She swallowed and steeled herself to get it said. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. She hadn’t known him at all when she’d made her plan, and she’d dropped the plan completely as soon as she got to know him. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure.” He sounded overly casual. “But I’ve got to say, just in terms of good strategy, if you’re going to dump me, it would be smarter to wait until after we settle the inn. I mean, settle everything officially with all the paperwork signed. I’d estimate it will take at least six months, if you need a general timeline. Maybe up to a year.”

Laurel was surprised by a burst of amusement when she processed what he was saying. And what it meant. He was afraid she was going to break up with him and was masking it with a joke. She hugged him again and laughed against his chest, her humor just on the edge of tears. “I’m not going to dump you, Andrew. Am I crazy?”

“Well,” he murmured against her hair, tightening his arms around her so much she momentarily couldn’t breathe, “I didn’t think so. But maybe you don’t fully recognize how good a catch I am. I can provide references, if you’d like.”

She laughed again, her eyes burning with emotion so powerful she could barely process it. She couldn’t believe—simply couldn’t believe—that he wanted to be with her so much he was worried she didn’t feel the same. “I don’t need references,” she told him, the words muffled by his shirt. “I know exactly how good a catch you are.”

“Good. Just so we’re on the same page about that.”

She felt a light pressure against her head and realized he’d kissed her hair.

She raised her head to look up again, determined to get the hardest thing over with. “I did want to talk to you about something. When we first met,” she began, her mouth twisting slightly, “I didn’t know what to expect and I was worried about the inn, of course. So I had this idea—”

Andrew’s phone rang then, and he pulled away from her to check it. “It’s Harrison,” he said, relief reflecting on his expression. “Can you hold on just a minute?”

He had turned the volume up on his phone when he was checking messages on the plane, and he hadn’t turned it down—so Laurel could hear both sides of the conversation, the voice on the other line just slightly muffled.

“Why did you call eleven times?” Harrison demanded, as soon as Andrew answered the phone.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in the car. We’re heading back to the villa. What’s going on?”

“I’m at the villa,” Andrew said. “It’s business.”

There was a pause on the other end of the call. “I’m supposed to be on a break.”

“Emergency situation.”

“Fine. We’re almost there. It’ll just be a minute.”

Andrew ended the call and turned to Laurel with a relieved smile. “They’re on their way.” He peered out at the drive leading up to the villa, evidently looking for sign of his brother’s car. “At least I won’t have the embarrassment of having to search for a room for us tonight.”

“I wouldn’t have minded changing plans and staying in a hotel. Seriously. I’m not as uptight as you think.”

He chuckled and pulled her against him again, pressing a little kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not. As long as I know what to expect, I can be just as laidback and flexible as you are.” She said the words in all earnestness, and only afterwards heard what she’d said.

Andrew practically howled with laughter, pulling her into another hug. “Of course you can be,” he gasped. “I’ll make sure you always know what to expect so I can always keep you laidback and flexible.”

She loved the way it felt when he laughed as he hugged her—like his whole body vibrated with the warmth that was so much
him
. She melted into it, let it wash over her. As his laughter faded, the hug transformed with an emotion that was wordless and urgent.

She took a breath, knowing that she had to pull away, that she couldn’t stay wrapped in his arms forever. “I’m not really that bad,” she insisted, easing away from him.

He lifted both hands to cup her face. “Laurel, there’s nothing bad about you at all.”

But that wasn’t true. It just wasn’t true. So she made herself be brave and say, “Anyway, I was trying to say before . . .”

“Oh yeah. What were you saying? Something about the first time we met.”

“Yeah. I just wanted to make sure you know. I’ve been feeling bad about it and wanted…   It’s about when you first arrived—”

“Andrew!”

The feminine voice broke into Laurel’s slightly stilted explanation.

They both turned and saw a blond woman in jeans and a t-shirt racing toward them. She flung herself at Andrew in a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

Andrew hugged the woman with a laugh, obviously pleased with the exuberant welcome.

Laurel stood to the side awkwardly, fighting against a ridiculous feeling of jealousy. She knew this must be Marietta, who was Harrison’s girlfriend. She wasn’t any sort of threat to Laurel, but it still felt like Andrew’s hugs should belong to her alone.

Because the feeling was utterly irrational, she tried to stamp it out.

“You look great,” Andrew said, when Marietta had pulled away.

Marietta was very pretty in a fresh and sunny way with her smiling face, ponytail, and utterly unselfconscious manner. “I look exactly the same as when you last saw me.”

“Well, you always looked great. Where’s Harrison?”

“He’s parking the car. I told him to stop when I saw you so I could get out.” She turned toward Laurel, her smile just as genuine as before. “Hi. I’m Marietta.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Laurel said politely, extending a hand and smiling as brightly as she could. “I’m Laurel Grayson.”

Marietta clearly had no idea who she was and had attached no significance to her name, which made Laurel feel a little better. At least she wouldn’t feel like a Damon adversary intruding on a domestic gathering.

Marietta opened the door to let them in to the spacious, airy villa that must cost a fortune to rent. They were still standing in the entry hall when Harrison came in through the door from the garage, hauling four bags, an ice chest, and what looked like a tent in a vinyl sack.

Andrew gaped at his brother, who wore jeans, t-shirt, and hiking shoes. “What have you been doing?”

“We’ve been camping,” Marietta explained, taking two of the bags off Harrison’s arm and dumping them in a pile on the floor. “Don’t be mad at him for not returning your calls. I told him he had to keep his phone off.”

Andrew clearly found the idea of his brother on a weekend camping trip amusing. Despite her slight discomfort in the unfamiliar situation, Laurel couldn’t help but smile fondly as she watched him try not to laugh.

Then she felt like she’d been caught at something when she realized Marietta was looking at her curiously.

Harrison rolled his eyes at Andrew’s amusement but chose not to respond to it. “So what’s going on? Who is this?”

“This is Laurel Grayson,” Andrew said, as she returned Harrison’s polite handshake. “She’s the reason we’re here. It’s about that inn on Santorini.”

Harrison’s forehead furrowed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s that inn that we thought we got as part of the assets from that bank. You handled the whole thing. Laurel is Jerry Grayson’s widow.” It was obvious to Laurel that Andrew loved his brother, and she was really glad to see it, since Andrew’s relationship with his uncle was so conflicted. She wondered what it would be like to be close to a sibling, to be close to any member of one’s family.