“I never said I have a girlfriend.”
“You didn’t deny it, either!” Derrick was hiding something from her. Then it dawned on her. “I’m a decoy, aren’t I? You’re seeing someone else, but for some reason you can’t or won’t bring her around your family. You’re embarrassed, or—”
“I’m not embarrassed.” Derrick cut her off in a deceptively soft voice. “And you’re not a decoy. I brought you here because the person I wanted to bring couldn’t make it. That’s all you need to know. You’re getting an all-expenses-paid weekend vacation, plus wages. You don’t get to ask questions.”
This couldn’t continue. She was stressed and upset, and Derrick did a good job of making her feel guilty for the precious hours she had spent with Roarke. She’d only been there a day, and she was already falling apart. Another day and a half would have men in white coats dropping by to haul her off.
“It doesn’t feel like a vacation,” she said. “This was a bad idea. You’re obsessed with hating your brother, and it puts me in an awkward position.”
“You can tough it out for one more day,” Derrick said without sympathy. “We have an agreement. Stick to the plan.”
He slammed the door as he left the room.
What had she gotten herself into?
Celeste recollected the anger in Roarke’s face. The harsh lines had returned, a terrible end to an otherwise glorious day spent in his company. Once again he’d spoiled her, refusing to let her pay for anything and explaining the history of the island like a true guide would do. His memory amazed her.
She smothered a sigh of what could have been. She savored the short time they’d spent together and wished she could have devised a plausible excuse to remain in his company. For just a little longer. It was almost as if . . .
No. Celeste shook her head. Her heart stopped working midpump.
She wasn’t . . . falling in love with him? With a hard swallow, she sank onto the bed.
No.
Those were the thoughts of a madwoman. Pure insanity. The men in white coats really would come for her now.
She barely knew him. But even as she thought it, she recognized the untruth. Images flooded her mind: their long night of conversation at Tito’s Lounge, where she not only found out about his love of jazz, but many other details about his life; the amiable breakfast this morning; him in the golf cart next to her, pointing out landmarks, answering questions, and visiting places he was probably bored of visiting—but doing it anyway—just so he could show her around; sitting across from her at lunch and sharing food off each other’s plate; the wild groping in her room yesterday; and their insatiable lovemaking that night at the Ritz.
Celeste buried her face in her hands.
No! she screamed silently.
She didn’t want to fall for him, to care about him, but her heart had other ideas. She could never face him and his disdain for her now. It would hurt too much.
In less than two days she would be gone, never to see him again. The painful thought forced a choked sob to escape her throat.
Chapter Nine
Celeste went to her room before Derrick returned, and she remained there until a few minutes before the commencement of the wedding ceremony. She and Derrick sat next to each other on white-covered chairs with red sashes. Pink and red rose petals were sprinkled on the white aisle runner leading up to the decorated wedding arch where the minister, the groom, and the wedding party stood.