Oh, hell. She was not the problem. The trouble was this possessive streak he had going. After years of not giving a crap what anyone else on the planet was up to, let alone who they were sleeping with, he couldn't believe he was finally interested in someone else's love life.
But damn, he'd managed to pick a bad time for the transformation.
Smith groaned as a thought occurred to him. He needed to give Grace a panic button in case something happened in the middle of the night. They were out of the city, but being at Willings didn't guarantee her safety.
He walked over to his bag. When he'd found what he was looking for, he gave himself a lecture. He wasn't going to waste a second in that room of hers. He was going to give her what was in his hand and then get the hell out of there.
He had no interest in meeting up with Walker.
After all, he had faith in his self-control. But he wasn't going to push his luck.
* * *
Grace was sitting at the vanity in her bathroom when she thought she heard a knock at her door. She put her hairbrush down and listened.
When another knock came, she traded the towel she'd wrapped around herself for a silk robe and went to the door. She was surprised to see Smith standing in the hall.
Going by the expression on his face, his mood hadn't improved.
"Mind if I come in?"
"Please." She stepped back, acutely aware that she was naked under the robe.
When he shut the door, his eyes lingered on her damp hair but his voice was gruff and standoffish.
"Take this." Smith held out a small black box the size of a pager. "It's a panic button. Press it and I'll come."
"Thank you," she said, examining it.
He turned to go.
"Smith?" She hadn't meant to speak, but his name just jumped out of her mouth. As he looked over his shoulder at her, her heart began to pound.
There were so many things she wanted to say to him. None of them were easy. Few made sense. And he didn't look like he was in the mood for talking.
"Never mind," she muttered.
There was a long silence between them. And then he turned around, his mouth lifting in a humorless smile.
"You seemed surprised it was me knocking at your door. Expecting someone else? "
She frowned. "No."
"You sure about that?"
"Who would—you mean Jack?"
"Seems like just the kind of guy who could juggle two women well. Probably discreet, too. Good choice, if you're looking for an affair."
Grace pulled the lapels of her robe closer together. "I'm not looking for one."
"You sure about that, Countess?"
His eyes were glittering as he looked her over and she was confused but drawn by the change in him. Sexual energy started coming off him in waves of heat.
"John?" she whispered, aware that it was an invitation of sorts.
He shook his head, although she wasn't sure whether it was to turn her down or because he was disappointed in himself.
"You are so goddamn beautiful," he said, his eyes moving over her face, down her neck, over her body. "I almost hate you for it."
"I don't want you to hate me."
"Yeah, well, it'd be easier to handle than what I'm feeling now."
"What are you feeling?" Her voice had gone breathless.
"Like I want you naked and underneath me."
Involuntarily, Grace took a step toward him and, in a blur of motion, he took her into his arms. His lips came down on hers in a kiss that was hard and full of demand. Opening her mouth, taking him inside of her, she moaned. This was what she had wanted for so long, since that night that they had almost made love.
And tonight, she wasn't going to turn back.
She felt his hands loosen the robe and slip underneath, on to her skin. As he brushed over her breasts, she strained to get closer to him. Grabbing the front of his shirt, she fumbled with the buttons.
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the door.
"You decent? I hope not," Jack said, throwing it open. "I brought the wine—"
Grace and Smith pulled apart, panting. As she yanked her robe back into place, she could feel the blood rush into her face. In the awkward moment that followed, she thought of the contractors who'd interrupted them that morning so long ago.
She and John had god-awful timing, she thought. Or maybe it was the rest of the world with the problem. Either way, it was maddening.
Jack's brows shot up into his forehead. "I didn't mean to—”
"I was just leaving," Smith growled. As he strode past the other man, Jack stepped out of his way.
After the door was slammed shut, her friend looked at her ruefully. "I didn't know you and he were—ah... It sure as hell explains a lot."
Grace cleared her throat and wondered what she should do. She wanted to rush across the hall to John and disabuse him of the conclusion he'd obviously jumped to. However, if the look on his face as he'd left was anything to go by, the last thing he'd want would be a visit from her.
In the meantime, her friend was waiting for an explanation.
"Ah—we're not together. Or at least, it's not what it looks—looked like." She paused. "Oh, hell."
She went over to a window and stared out at the ocean. Moonlight was falling on the waves, dancing across the swells.
"What's going on, Grace?"
She threw up her hands, feeling like she couldn't keep up the guise of being happily married any longer. "You might as well know that Ranulf and I have separated."
Jack let out a low whistle. "I'm sorry. When did this happen?"
"A month ago. I'm filing for divorce."
" Because of the man who just left?"
She shook her head. "No, it doesn't have anything to do with John. Ranulf and I should never have gotten married in the first place."
"Jesus, I really am sorry." There was a pause and then Jack let out a soft laugh. "Is it all right for me to say I never really liked Ranulf? For all that fancy lineage of his, he wasn't good enough for you."
"That's sweet of you to say." She turned to her friend, a sad smile on her face.
"So who's this Smith guy?"
"It's complicated. But there's nothing ... going on between us." She shot him a dry look. "In spite of what you walked in on."
"You sure about that? I think I understand now why he's been looking at me as if I had a bull's-eye on my chest and he was carrying a fistful of darts. He's being territorial. Over you."
Grace shook her head. "Look, I don't want to talk about him, if you don't mind. It's..."
"Complicated. I can tell."
She smiled softly. "Listen, my mother doesn't know about Ranulf, yet. So keep it quiet. I'm going to break the news to her before I leave."
He shook his head. "This is going to be a long weekend."
"I've been thinking that from the moment we came over the bridge."
Jack hesitated. "I need to say one more thing about John Smith, though."
"Yes?"
Her friend's expression was very serious as he nodded at the door. "Be careful with that man. Your heart is in your eyes when you look at him."
Grace felt a chill pass over her skin. Clearly, Jack saw through her brave front and her little white lies.
"It wasn't like this with Ranulf," she whispered. "It hasn't been like this with anyone."
Jack put the wine and the glasses down and came over to her. "We don't get to pick who we fail in love with."
Grace sighed unhappily. "I'm not in love with him."
Jack put an arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder for a long while. When she pulled back, he smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.