Our kisses grew deeper. He slid his hands beneath my sweater, burning my skin with his hot grip. We necked like two teenagers desperate for each other. I was desperate for him, anyway. And trying not to think. Because this could only lead to heartbreak for me. Especially given my lack of experience. The sound of the engine became a purr. I was lost in Riggins' kisses. Until a light came on in windows behind us.
Riggins pulled away, smiling, his hair standing at odd angles from my passionate fondling.
"Is someone's dad onboard?" I laughed. "Is your captain watching out for your virtue?" I raised an eyebrow. "I've never seen this version of the old turn-on-the-porch-light trick."
The corners of Riggins' eyes crinkled adorably as he smiled. "I think the captain is trying to tell us, none too subtly, that it's time for dinner." He glanced at his watch. "Shit. I lost track of time. It is time for dinner. Late for dinner."
I'd been so lost in Riggins, every sense had been focused on him. As soon as he mentioned dinner, I smelled the delicious scent of something cooking. Right on cue, my stomach rumbled. I slid off his lap.
Riggins ran his fingers through his hair as I shook mine out. He signaled someone inside and offered me a hand up.
A waiter appeared, set a basket of bread on the table, and lit the candles. Riggins pulled a chair out for me. The waiter returned with salads and set them in front of us.
When the waiter left again, Riggins took my hand. "I have something I need to tell you."
Chapter 6
Haley
Riggins looked suddenly serious. He had that bad-news look on his face. I lost my appetite, but managed to keep my fork from trembling in my hand. "Yes?"
He seemed to hesitate. "It's been a fantastic day. It's flown by. When I'm with you—"
He set his fork down with a bite of salad still on it. "I didn't want to ruin the mood by talking business. But all day I felt like I've been keeping something from you."
I set my fork down now, too.
He took my hand. "You know, of course, that I took Rose out last night." He paused. "She knows about the will. Most of it she's guessed at. But she knows more than she should."
"What?" I went cold. I shouldn't have been surprised, but somehow I was. "How?"
He explained her methods. "She's made me an offer—if I choose her, she'll give me everything required for her share of the Dead Duke's mother's money. Then, if I want, or she and I want, she'll walk away amicably."
"Why didn't you tell me?" My voice shook. My mouth was dry.
He looked at me helplessly. "I was selfish. I wanted an unspoiled day with you. I wanted a repeat of our night of dancing together."
"Did you accept?" The words popped out. I was afraid of the answer.
He shook his head.
"But you're thinking about it?" I blinked, trying not to panic.
"I have to think about it."
"Because it's a business deal?" I took a deep breath to calm myself.
"Because it's an important decision with consequences for all of us." He took squeezed my hand. "Your fingers are cold."
My entire soul was ice.
"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to make the same offer? Match her terms? Beat them? I've already agreed to keep silent and help you find a way out. And abide by the terms if your out fails."
He shook his head. "No. Haley, please. Understand." He blew out a breath. "I'm giving you an out. If you want it. That's what today was partly about. I wanted you to get to know me better before I brought it up."
"You gave me a dream day." My heart raced. "Is that really you?"
"It's really me on a date." His expression was serious. "I wanted you to see the house and the boat. Where I went to school. To hear my dumb college stories. See how I live now. So you can decide if you still want to be a part of that. My lifestyle has its pros and cons."
I knew that only too well. I could already feel myself fading into the background. Riggins would always be the more popular face between the two of us. I didn't have the personality to become a real housewife. People would always want to know more about him than me.
And I was already being called a gold digger by some in the press. They didn't know our story. And I couldn't tell them the truth. It was a no-win scenario.
"You know her claims aren't verified?" I said. "Mr. Thorne is still trying to prove them. He thinks it could take longer than the time you have. Much longer than three weeks. Especially if I want it to."
Riggins nodded. "Yes. I know."
I took a deep breath. "He asked for my DNA. I haven't decided yet if I should give it to him. Is that what you want?"
He shook his head. "It's your decision. If you want out, this could be your ticket. Your DNA could definitively prove she's a descendant and related to you. But you also risk finding out she's mistaken."
That was putting it kindly.
"And lock yourself back into the role of reluctant duchess. If I can't find a way out for us then…"
The unsaid hung in the air.
"Does it matter what I want?" I stared at him. "You could always steal my DNA. Take it off any of the glasses I drank from today—"
He grabbed the water glass in front of me and hurled it over the side of the boat. His face was set and angry. Frustrated. "You'll have to trust me. I promise not to. You have my word."
I might have been a fool, but I believed him. "I'm not sure what I want."
Except that I wanted to be fair to everyone.
He nodded and let go of my hand. "That makes two of us."
"So Rose and I really are in a competition?"
He pursed his lips to one side. "It seems so. Unless a miracle occurs, I don't see a way out of this marriage, and the clock is ticking. That damn Dead Duke."
I lifted my chin and made a split-second decision, letting my heart talk. "I don't want out just yet. But I want you to have options. You have to know whether Rose is really a contender. My DNA could prove it one way or the other. Hang on."
Earlier in the day I had done something that not even Sid knew about. I'd bought a DNA kit. Just in case. And because I was conflicted. It was in my purse, which was on a nearby bench. I jumped up and got it before returning to my seat at the table.
I held the kit out. "See this?" I tore open the box. I'd read up on the instructions online. I pulled the swab out, ran it over the inside of my cheeks, and sealed it in the preaddressed, postage-paid envelope while Riggins sat in stunned silence.
I held the envelope out to him.
He didn't reach for it.
"There you go." I set it on the table between us. "Do with it what you want or feel you have to. The decision is totally yours. I already told you I'm not a materialistic person. I'm not sure I want to be duchess. Or a billionaire's wife. Certainly not if you prefer Rose over me. If you help Sid, that's all I need. But…"
He looked at me expectantly.
"I like you, Riggins. Really like you. I think…if circumstances were different…then, of course, we would never have met. Or, well, actually, we met, and I baked those mint brownies you love with extra care as I worshipped you from afar." I laughed nervously and glanced down. "But we probably would never have dated. What I'm trying to say is, even though you are a little old for me…"
He smiled at that.
"…I think we could have something special, given time. When I'm with you, I feel as comfortable as if I've known you forever. Like I can tell you everything and be honest. Like now.
"That's the true definition of a friend, at the very least. You can be apart for ages, but when you're together, it's like no time's passed and there's no awkwardness. Just that is a rare thing. But I feel a spark, too. It's just a little ember now."
He lifted an eyebrow and his Adam's apple bobbed.
"Okay, a white-hot ember. Who knows, though? The winds of life might blow it out.
"Or they might fan it like a bellows into a raging passion. An epic love. I'd like to know how that story plays
out. Fate has dealt us a crap hand in the love game.
"I wish we had time to explore it before we made a major decision like getting married and agreeing to divorce. Neither one of us are ready for marriage now. So what I'm saying is this—if you aren't sure what you want yet, either, just keep me in the game. I'd like a shot at being your wife."
I could have been mistaken, but I thought his eyes misted over.
"Damn, Haley, you really know how to give a speech and make a point."
I nudged the envelope toward him. "Deal?"
He took it and held it up. "Deal."
"One condition?"
He nodded. "Yeah?"
"Don't tell me the results. If you choose Rose, I'll know anyway. If you choose me…" I shrugged. "I'd like to think it wasn't because you had to."
"You are amazing, Haley."
"Glad you think so." My heart was pounding loudly in my ears, drumming out a rhythm that told me I might have been amazing, but I was definitely stupid and reckless.
"Let's change the subject now!" I sounded too bright, even to my own ears. "Rose wants to see Wareswood Castle, the two of us. The late duchess grew up there. You should come along. Do a side-by-side comparison of Rose and me. See which of us looks better on your arm."
I laughed because there was nothing else I could do. "See if either of us look like any of those old, stuffy supposed ancestors of ours that I hear still hang in the place. Get used to the eyes of ancestors following you around."
"You want me tagging along on your girls' day out?" He looked surprised, but pleased.
"Why not?" I said as breezily as I could. "The media will have a field day. Though it might be bad news for American/British relations. Still, I think it would be a good show. We can post pictures on social media and increase the speculation."
Riggins relaxed and grinned full-out. "Okay, then. It's a date." He paused. "I have an idea."
"Yeah?"
"Why don't we make a party out of it? A real spectacle. Spend the whole weekend there. Rent the entire place out and have the run of it."
"Hmmm…" I said. "That would give us a decent shot at running into Helen's mother's ghost. Which Rose was quite excited about."
Riggins laughed. "Not sure about the ghost. We can certainly invite her. The main thing is, we can get to know each other. Bring your sister. I'll invite some friends. I'll see about renting it out."
"It will be almost like our own little version of The Bachelor. Let the duchess contest begin." I tried to sound brighter than I felt.
His smile was tentative. "There's one more thing." He reached out and squeezed my hand. "I'm not a eunuch or as gentlemanly as I seem." He told me about the pregnancy clause of the will.
"So we're not taking any chances?" I wasn't sure if I was relieved or not. It took the pressure off me. But when my secret was revealed?
"Sadly, no."
"There go my fantasies of doing it on a yacht." I tugged his hand playfully.
"Believe me, I've thought about it." His eyes were dark and wide. "I've thought about a lot of things. Like taking you back to one of the bedrooms onboard and doing everything but." His voice was low and sexy, intimate.
My toes curled at the thought of being with him. I clenched my legs together. My breathing became shallow.
"There's just too damn much at stake here to take any chances." He sounded genuinely regretful.
We were still holding hands. He squeezed mine.
"You could always get us both pregnant. That would get you out of the marriage."
"I'm not that big of an asshole." His gaze held mine. "Besides, it would only delay the inevitable for nine months."
"Forty weeks, if you want to be completely accurate," I said.
Chapter 7
Riggins
If time would only trickle slowly when I was with Haley, instead of flying by. All too soon, we docked. I held Haley's hand as we walked on the dock and up the lawn toward the house.
"It must still be early," I said without looking at my watch. I knew from the position of the stars that it wasn't. But what the hell? "Want to watch a movie in my theater?"
She paused, pretending to think about it. "Is that just an excuse to sit side by side and fondle my breasts? Maybe neck?"
"Absolutely."
She laughed. "Well…"
"I'll fire up the popcorn machine. I'll even throw in real butter."
"Tempting offer. What kind of movie did you have in mind? Romantic comedy? Chick flick? Or guy-type action adventure?"
"Whatever you want to see." I let us into the house.
"Good answer." She laughed, evilly and teasingly.
"What?"
"I wouldn't mind watching another one of those shows about famous estates and how dukes really live."
"Why?" I turned to face her. "I believe you."
"Yeah, but I really think you should see them."
"You just want to watch my reaction to them."
She laughed outright. "Yeah. You're right. Still game?"
I pulled her into a kiss. "You're such a brat."
And so we watched a documentary about one of Britain's most famous estates and the duke and duchess who ran it. Haley picked seats in the center of the theater in the middle row of five.
"So you're one of those. Someone who likes to be right in the middle," I teased as I took a seat next to her and put the armrest between us up.
"To be honest, choosing a seat in a private theater where we're the only guests for the show is completely new to me. Middle seemed logical." Her grin was impish and completely sexy. "In a normal theater, I prefer the center of the first row behind the handicap seats so I can put my foot on the rail. And because those seats are rarely used, so there's little chance of anyone obstructing my view."
"Good logic," I said.
She kicked off her shoes and curled her legs beneath her in the seat. I was too large for that and in awe of her ability to fit into it like that.
"Popcorn?" she said.
I turned the machine on. Then pulled up the menu and scrolled through until I found the show she wanted.
"I haven't seen that one."
I got us a bucket of popcorn and sat next to her with the popcorn between so we could share.
"You're a billionaire and you didn't get me my own bucket of popcorn from the machine you own? What a cheapskate!"
"Sharing's nicer." I bumped her with my shoulder.
She laughed. "I see your plan. Since we're on a no-sex, no-temptation plan, you're just hoping for a little accidental finger-brushing action."
"Curses! Foiled again. You saw right through me."
She pursed her lips comically. I kissed them. She was so damn cute and irresistible.
She laughed. "Play the movie."
I started the show. I settled in with one arm around her, nice and gentlemanly, and the other on the popcorn bucket, intentionally brushing her fingers with mine and going for the same kernels. She laughed and slapped my hand away.
So I slid my hand down off her shoulder and cupped her breast.
"Hey!" She shook her head.
"Don't like it?" I sure as hell did.
She grinned and crunched her popcorn. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't grope me."
She made me feel young and normal. Down to earth.
"Oh, look! Here comes the duke. Pay attention. You could learn a thing or two from him. This is you now. Your life."
I sighed and shook my head as we watched the duke talk about preserving the family art and saving costs while heating and renovating a dusty castle.
"Did you ever think," she said, "that he's your peer?" She laughed. "Like your literal peer. That's probably where the term 'peer' comes from. He's a peer and your peer—"
"Do you always talk through shows?" I gave her a squeeze.
"Only in home theaters."
"Lucky me."
"He could end up being one of your best friends, too. I mean, you might end up sitting next to h
im in the House of Lords or at tea with the Queen."
"Stop."
She laughed again.
The duke put on a pair of rubber boots and went out to talk to his gamekeeper about not letting the deer population on the property get out of hand and to inspect a muddy road.
Haley nudged me. "Are you observing dukely fashion?"
"He's wearing rubber boots."
"No. He's wearing wellies. You need to get up to date with your British. Maybe you should even study it. Take a foreign language course—British for American Dummies." She laughed.
I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Maybe you should, too."
She shook her head. "No thanks. I'm already better at British than you are."
"Really?"
"I knew what wellies are."
"Astound me with something else."
She shrugged. "What do the British mean when they say 'self-drive car'?"
"Those haven't been invented yet, have they? Though we're close. We have cars that can park for you."
"They mean rental car." She sighed in mock exasperation. "What's a tip and run?"
"Is that anything like a dine and dash?"
She shook her head. "It's a hit and run."
"Probably by that self-drive car," I said. "You've been studying."
"Maybe. I like to know what I might be getting into." She paused. "But it's not like I have to. I'm just in the running for the ancillary role of duchess. I can be totally American and get away with it. The American heiresses of Helen's generation made it vogue."
She pointed to the screen. "You'd look so completely adorable in wellies. And one of those natty hunting suits. I wonder if your gamekeeper wears one like that? With the hat."
I shook my head again and laughed. I hadn't felt so light and carefree in years.
After the show ended, we sat and talked.
"One thing that sucks about being a billionaire?" she asked.
I had to think about it a minute. "Gifts."
"What?" She tilted her head. "You're the man who's impossible to buy for? No one else can match what you can buy for yourself. Wait. Don't you have billionaire friends? Surely they can come up with some nice crap."