I headed over to the kitchen and pulled out two tumblers. “She has a big thing on at work. Sorry, if we’d known you were coming we could have rearranged things.”
“Oh,” he said. “She won’t be back at all?”
“Well, I hope at some point.” I chuckled. He wasn’t about to be recruited by the CIA for his sleuthing skills. “She does live here, after all.” I lifted up my cell. “She’s going to keep me posted. I know she’d want to see you while you’re here. Did you bring Victoria?”
“No, I’m here on business.”
Business? Frederick took an income from the estate and lived off Victoria’s trust fund. Unless his business was to discredit my marriage, I couldn’t imagine what he’d be doing here. I glanced at my phone again. Why wouldn’t she just call?
After I poured our drinks I stalked over to the couches where Frederick was making himself at home. “How’s the hotel?” I asked.
“Fine. Nice views. So, what’s for dinner?” he asked.
“I thought we’d go out. No one cooks in New York City.”
“Well, that is a shame. I was looking forward to a cozy evening in. Do you mind if I use your lavatory?”
I cringed. I hadn’t checked the bathroom. “Sure, the guest bath is just on your left there,” I said, pointing back toward the entrance hall. The guest bath shouldn’t have anything incriminating in it, should it?
As Frederick left the room, I began to pace, clutching my phone, waiting for it to vibrate. It wasn’t just that Frederick was here, I wanted to know where Scarlett was. I hadn’t heard from her and I was beginning to grow concerned. Anything could have happened to her. This was New-York-Fucking-City. She could have been mugged or kidnapped. She could have gotten caught up in the middle of an armed robbery. She could have been pushed onto the tracks of the subway, or run down by a cab.
Where the fuck was she? I wouldn’t be half as tense as I was if she was here. I wouldn’t be worrying if something had happened to her but also because when she was close, she always gave me something to smile about, whether it was her perspective on a problem at work or the slide of her hand over my chest.
When had I become that guy?
I ran my free hand through my hair as Frederick reappeared.
“You okay, old chap? You look a little on edge.”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.” But I wasn’t fine at all. I wanted to be discussing my day with Scarlett, not Frederick.
A bang on the door interrupted my list of catastrophic things that could have happened to Scarlett. Was that her?
I sprinted to the front door and she almost fell inside as she struggled with the key in the lock. “Goddamn key,” she said, muttering into my chest.
I was so stunned and happy to see her, I didn’t notice that her hands were full as I pulled her against me.
“Hey,” I said, squeezing her tight.
“Errr, hi. Can I just . . .” She wiggled free of my arms and I saw the bags she was carrying.
“Sorry, let me help you with that.” I was so relieved at being able to touch her again I nearly forgot Frederick was sitting on my sofa.
She didn’t meet my eyes as she handed me a bag that had a bunch of tulips poking out of the top. She’d had time to go shopping, but not call me back?
I wanted us to have a few moments together, maybe share a kiss hello, but she swept past me and into the living room. Frederick had turned to face us and Scarlett beamed when she saw him. “Frederick! How lovely to see you. Welcome to New York.” She pulled him in for a hug. “What are you doing here? You should have said you were coming, and I could have rearranged my work schedule.”
Frederick smiled, probably relieved Scarlett had released him from her hug. British aristocracy didn’t indulge in such things. “Last minute plan. I thought I’d surprise you.”
Scarlett turned to me, still not looking me in the eye and pointed at the bags I was carrying for her. “Can you put those on the counter? I’ve got tarragon chicken if that works for you?” she asked, looking at Frederick.
“Sounds great,” Frederick replied. “Can I do anything to help?”
“No, tell us about your trip. I’ll put Ryder to work as my assistant.” She grinned and turned to look at me for the first time since she arrived. Even though I could tell it wasn’t as natural as usual, her gaze was like the sun, warming my body, relaxing and unknotting each tense muscle.
“Can I get a glass of wine please?” she asked as she began to unload the bags she’d brought onto the counter.
I wanted to drag her into the bedroom and have a private conversation. Ask her where the hell she’d been and why she hadn’t been answering my calls. Thank her for changing her plans, tell her I missed her.
Instead I opened the wine fridge and took out a bottle of Pouilly-Fume I knew she’d love.
I poured the wine, tuning out of the chat she was having with Frederick.
“Thanks,” she said, not looking at me as she arranged what she’d bought in front of her. But I didn’t set the drink down. I stepped so close that I could smell that now-familiar scent of warm tangerine. It wasn’t perfume. It was just her.
She looked up at me, her eyes slightly narrowed. She was pissed. Perhaps because Frederick’s arrival had interrupted her plans, but it felt like more than that. I set the glass down on the marble, the satisfying scrape of two hard surfaces sliding together making me realize I’d not been focused on Frederick since Scarlett had walked in the door.
I circled my arms around her waist and pulled her toward me. She curled around my biceps and dug into my muscles, as she resisted my embrace. I bent my head to her neck, not wanting her to reject my kiss. “I missed you,” I whispered against her skin.
She yielded a little, her thighs scraping against mine. “I’ve been busy—”
I didn’t want to hear her excuses. I was just pleased she was back. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m hungry. Can you let go of your wife for just a few minutes so she can prepare the chicken?” Frederick called from the sitting area.
“Honestly, I’m not sure I can,” I replied, lifting my head but not taking my eyes from Scarlett.
She tried to twist away but I held her tight. I didn’t know where she’d go if I released her. I bent my head again to her ear. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”
She nodded against my cheek. “Let’s cook dinner.”
I stepped back slightly, but kept my hand on her lower back. “What can I do?”
“Get me an ovenproof dish for the chicken and a salad bowl?”
Christ, she was amazing. She didn’t know this kitchen well, yet she was doing a great job covering that up by getting me to assist. “And the colander. You can wash the salad.”
I grinned. I didn’t think there was a person alive other than my sister who would instruct me to wash salad.
“You don’t mind eating at the breakfast bar do you, Frederick?” Scarlett asked as she prepared the chicken while I placed the things she’d asked for on the counter in front of her.
Frederick wandered toward us, his drink in his hand. “Of course not. I’m here for the company.”