Just Desserts
Page 22

“Bastian would love it on you.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to wear the wrong thing, but this dress is—”
Kate made a noise of dismissal. “Trust me.” Smiling, she took a sip of champagne. “Now, tell me all about how the two of you met.”
Daisy panicked. She and Sebastian hadn’t really been over this. Why hadn’t they been over this? “We met Christmas before last, when he came to town to see Rose Holland.”
Kate’s brows shot up. “The two of you started dating, then?” she asked sharply.
“No.”
“But you said—”
“You asked how we met, not when we started dating,” Daisy pointed out.
Kate blinked, her cheeks coloring little. “So I did.”
“We ah…the next time I saw him, he…We fell in love, just like that.” Daisy snapped her fingers. “Next thing I know, he’s proposing and I said yes.”
“Sebastian Romanov spontaneously proposed to you?”
“Yes,” she said, trying to sound convincing. Lying had never been something she’d been good at doing. “It was very romantic.”
“Romantic?” Kate’s jade-colored eyes narrowed. “Are you quite sure we’re talking about the same man?”
“Y-yes,” Daisy said, starting for the counter with the dress. Ivan waited near the register, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Countess?” His gaze swept the area before settling on Daisy.
“After I pay for this, I’ll be ready to go back home,” she said, walking faster. A light pressure on her arm made her pause.
“I’m sorry, Daisy. I’m being rather horrid to you, all in the name of protecting my friend,” Kate said. “Please don’t go. Let’s spend the rest of the day getting to know one another, and perhaps in the future, the two of us could be good friends as well.”
In the not-so-distant future, Daisy and Sebastian would no longer be engaged. Would Kate want to be her good friend after that? She didn’t want to be rude, but she was pretty sure that one of two things would happen as the day wore on:
One: She would snap at Kate, because she was grumpy and tired, and not in the mood for twenty questions.
Two: She would discover that Kate was in love with Sebastian, which he obviously didn’t return, since he hadn’t asked Kate to be his fiancée. Or worse, he didn’t know Kate loved him. Then she’d feel lower than low for lying about everything.
“Look, I’m not in the best mood right now. I’m tired and grumpy. How about you come to dinner with us, instead?” Daisy gave the woman a gentle smile. “I’ll text you when I find out the place and time.”
Kate considered her offer for a moment. “You’re going to G.R.’s—Sebastian personally knows the man. Text me the time when you get a chance.” Leaning in, Kate bussed Daisy cheek. “So very nice to meet you.”
Sebastian knew G.R., too? Wasn’t this a small world.
A wave of dread washed over Daisy. Something wasn’t right. Sebastian needed to explain how he knew Jules’s last name.
She could ask Kate, but she was afraid of the answers she’d get. Instead, she waved good-bye and watched Kate leave the store.
By tonight, after dinner—she could give him that long—, Sebastian had better be ready to tell her everything.
Fishing her phone out of her purse, she wavered on contacting Jules, then…
I miss you.
***
Sebastian’s other phone buzzed and he picked it up, reading the text Daisy had sent to Jules. Closing his eyes, he leaned back his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.
She missed him.
Even after the email Jules had sent her, even after the night she’d shared with him, Daisy still wanted Jules. How in the hell could he compete with an online version of himself?
She thought him to be stiff, formal, arrogant, and unyielding. He was those things, but those few adjectives weren’t the entire sum of his parts. There was so much more to his personality he was dying to show her, but fear held him back. The fear she’d discover he was a fraud and would think he’d been playing with her emotions all along.
He guessed it was time to pay the piper, and tell her the truth. She deserved the truth. She deserved the best of everything, even if the best didn’t include him anymore.
Texting his driver, he made his way to the parking garage underneath the building, slipped inside his car and nearly fell into the backseat, after Boris closed the door behind him. He was exhausted, mentally and physically.
Tonight he would wine and dine Daisy, introduce her to his best mate, his friends, and G.R. Later when she was happy, rested, and hopefully comfortable, he would tell her the truth.
Decision made, he headed home, heart heavy.
Yet as he strode inside, anticipation flowed through him. The earth tilted on its axis, his palms grew damp, and his breathing became erratic. Daisy glided down the stairs in a lovely coat that hid her dress from him, but not her shapely legs. Her hair was styled in an elegant up-do.
Yet, she felt nothing for him. Only Jules.
She smiled, her pretty eyes crinkling at the corners, and he stopped thinking about her feelings for Jules. Hell, he stopped thinking at all.
“Hi,” she said, coming to a stop a couple of feet in front of him. “You look nice.”
His heart skipped a beat. “Thank you.” Then he noticed the three-inch heels she wore and his gut clinched. “I brought you something.” He procured the rectangular box from his suit jacket and held it out. “Wear them tonight.”
Annoyance flashed in those hazel eyes. “Yes, milord.” She dropped him a curtsy and took the box. “May I open it now, or should I wait for you to count to three first?”
He deserved that, he supposed, for his high-handedness. “You may open it whenever you like.” Of course, that was so much better.
She placed a hand over her heart. “Thank you for giving me permission.”
Rocking back on his heels, he clenched his jaw. This was not how he envisioned tonight. “Daisy—”
“I’m sorry,” she said, still holding on the box from Bulgari. “You came bearing gifts of apology and I’m went all grumpy cat on you.”
He almost laughed, but would she believe Sebastian knew anything about that damn cat? Not likely. “What in God’s name is ‘grumpy cat’?”
“Hold this.” After giving him back the unopened box, she whipped out her phone, thumbs flying over the screen. “Take a look.”
Their fingers brushed as they traded phone for box. Briefly their eyes met, sparks of want in her gaze. “Now will you open my gift for you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Yes.”
At that moment, he wished he’d asked an entirely different question that could elicit that exact response. Something along the lines of—Do you want to skip dinner and head straightaway to bed, with me?
He turned his attention to her phone. While he perused pictures of the especially unhappy looking cat, she opened the box. “Honestly, I fail to see what this cat has to be so grumpy about. He has his picture taken on a daily basis, inside mind you, and seems to be well-fed.”
“These are beautiful,” she breathed, paying no mind at his failed attempt at humor. “I didn’t think you noticed I’d broken my lucky pair.”
How could he not notice everything about her? “I’m quite good at multi-tasking.”
“Will you put them in?” Turning, she waited for him, but all he could do was stare in horror at her hair. All the colors were gone, stripped from the ends. “Do you like my new ‘do’?”
“It’s very pretty.” His hands shook as he carefully placed the diamond and jade chopsticks in her elegant bun. “Done,” he said and she whirled around, her eyes dancing in excitement.
“Why didn’t you tell me we were going to G.R.’s restaurant?”
Why had she changed her hair color? “I didn’t think it was important,” he said as they walked arm in arm to the waiting car. Had she got it in her head that he didn’t like her hair? All over his consider wearing something different remark. If she had, he was going to shave his head in mourning.
“Not important? It’s G.R.!” she said, getting in the car. “He’s world famous.”
“If I had known you were such a fan, then I would have arranged for a private dinner for the two of you,” he said dryly as he joined her. The door closed behind him and the car merged into traffic. “Instead you’ll have to settle for me and a few of my friends. Maybe I can get G.R. to make an appearance.”
“I don’t want dinner with G.R., I want cooking classes.” She unbuttoned her coat and placed her hands in her lap, fingers clutching at a small purse.
“You’re already a fantastic cook, Daisy.”
Smiling at him, she fiddled with the beading on her purse. “Thank you, but I want to be even better. I love learning new techniques and dishes. Once I get them down, I try to put my own spin on it. But sometimes, you can’t improve perfection.”
He gazed at her, taking in her smile, her beautiful face, her sexy body, and every inch of perfection that was Daisy Barnes. “Indeed you cannot.”
They both grew quiet and he was content just to ride with her, breath in the scent of vanilla and honey that she hadn’t changed, unlike her hair. He frowned. Maybe he could persuade her to change it back.
He heard a distinctive click, then another. Slicing his gaze to her, he found Daisy opening and closing the purse in her hands. She stared straight ahead, her brow wrinkled. The closer they got to the restaurant, the faster the purse clicked open and shut.
“Daisy,” he began.
“Sorry, I’ll stop. I know it’s annoying, but—”
“You’re not annoying me.” Holding out his hand, he said, “Take my hand.”
She looked from his hand to his face, then back at his hand again. Her hazel gaze returned to his face, pretty eyes widening.
“Please.”
Slowly, her fingers laced his and he pulled her hand to his mouth, brushing the knuckles with his lips. He let their joined hands settle in his lap and she scooted closer to him. The purse remained closed the rest of the way.
***
Dinner was exactly what Sebastian expected—his closest mates joking and laughing, giving him an extraordinarily hard time about the engagement.
However, Daisy wasn’t anything like he expected—she remained by his side, quiet and thoughtful. Speaking only when spoken to and in almost a subservient manner, like everyone there was her better. Sure his mates consisted of aristocracy and business moguls, but they were a relaxed, down-to-earth group. He was the only outlier, but supposed every circle of friends had one.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly as the majority of their group ambled over to the bar. Only his closest mate, Liam, and Kate Von Lichtenstein remained. Sebastian really wasn’t sure who’d invited her.
Daisy’s fork froze halfway to her mouth. “Fine. The food is delicious.” Then she set her fork down on the side of her plate, her hand hovering for a minute before she placed it in her lap.
“I thought the food was delicious.”
“It is.”
“Then why aren’t you eating?”
Kate and Liam laughed at a picture on his cell phone, and then toasted one another. Really, what was she doing here and with Liam of all people? It didn’t make sense. Besides, Liam was engaged, though his fiancée was on a photo shoot in Spain or Italy at the moment, and completely faithful to the woman. And Kate wasn’t one to go after men who were already taken.
He narrowed his eyes at the pair.
A soft intake of breath. “Because…I don’t know.”
“Oh my goodness, Liam, the ring is gorgeous. Bigger than your fiancée, really. What did Verity’s parents say when you two broke the news?” Kate gushed in her usual way. “I’m dying to know.”
Liam laughed. “They were pleased. And Verity said to remind you that you are the only woman allowed to accompany me about town while she’s away.”
Snatching Liam’s phone, Kate grinned. “Let me text your soon-to-be bride and assure her that I will keep a keen eye on her soon-to-be groom.”
Ah, so Liam had invited her, with Verity’s blessing. Sebastian relaxed. Now that made sense. He grinned at Kate. “Tell Verity you are keeping all the birds away from Liam, with your intimidating scowl.”
Kate winked at Sebastian.
Sebastian winked back.
Daisy drew in a shuddering breath.
All through dinner, it seemed he couldn’t keep his eyes off Kate, the woman that had supposedly given her great fashion advice and wanted to be great friends.
Daisy pleated the napkin in her lap, and then moved on to her dress. An overwhelming urge to stand up and walk out came over her, but she remained firmly seated, even when Sebastian joined Liam and Kate.
Sebastian’s blond head bent close to Kate’s dark one. They made a beautiful couple, so striking and fashionable…and English! While she sat there, like some poor cousin, all alone and feeling sorry for herself, in a dress that itched and hair that felt like it had been shellacked to her head. The sales clerk at the dress shop had recommended the hair salon.
If only Jules—she struck that thought from her brain. Jules no longer existed. She would have to deal with that fact. He hadn’t answered her last text, and thankfully, she’d stopped herself from texting him thirty more times.
With that last thought, she excused herself and headed to the bathroom, intent on texting Isabella. Mercifully, it was mostly empty in the powder room. She sat in a plush chair and began to open her purse.