“Oh, aye.” Tristan nodded. “This is an event I care not to miss.”
Julia shook her head emphatically. “No, I—”
“I’m so glad everyone’s in agreement.” Effectively ending the conversation, Faith pushed to her feet. “Well, it’s time for me to head home. I need my beauty sleep, you know. See you Saturday, Jules. Will you walk me out, Tristan?”
He didn’t hesitate. She might tell him more about Julia. “It would be my pleasure.”
“It would be your pleasure?” Julia demanded, a hint of dismay in her tone. “But, Tristan. I’ll be here alone. Alone and unprotected.”
The jealousy had returned, and he loved it. “If anyone attempts to hurt you, simply use your karate,” told her, tossing the words over his shoulder as he strode out the front door behind Faith. He grinned; he just couldn’t help it. What a sweet, sweet day this had become.
“Fine,” she called right back. “I’ll just be in here calling Peter, asking him on that double date of ours.”
“Are you sure you can get the words out?” he snapped, and this time, she offered no response.
Just like that, his mood darkened.
Faith stopped midway to her car and spun to face him, hands on hips. “I think I’ve figured out what’s going on. It’s obvious Jules likes you. My guess is she doesn’t think she’s good enough for you. You don’t think that, do you?”
“Nay. I want her.” Despite everything. Or maybe because of it.
“Good.” She relaxed her soldier-like stance. “She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman, but I’ve never been able to convince her of that fact. She’s stubborn, you know, and has always avoided romance. Well, not always.”
“There is a story here. You will explain.”
Faith raised a brow at his commanding tone. “It’s not my place to tell you. Ask Julia about her first date, and if she tells you…” She shrugged. “The sparks you two generate almost set me on fire. Whoever this Peter guy is, he’s not the man for my sister.”
“You,” Tristan told her, giving her hand another kiss, “are brilliant.”
She beamed at him. “On Saturday, I’ll handle Peter. You just make sure Julia has the best night of her life. She deserves it.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Always Wear Clothing That Is Pleasing
To Your Mistress—Even If She Prefers
No Clothes
THE REST OF THE week passed without incident. Tristan and Julia did not flirt. They worked, and they ate together. They even slept in the same bed, but they didn’t touch…and she hated every moment.
Saturday morning dawned cold but beautiful. An early spring wind danced through the air and birds chirped merrily in the trees. Eager blossoms valiantly attempted to bud.
Inside Julia’s home, candles glowed with vanilla-scented flames. Freshly polished counters gleamed brightly in the kitchen. Warm, inviting air cloaked every room like an old, comforting blanket.
Julia was ready to vomit. Coffee hadn’t helped. Nothing had.
Yesterday she’d finally worked up the courage to invite Peter to their double date. At first, he said no. So she had offered to pay. Still he’d refused. Only the threat of her “brother’s” fury had swayed him to make an appearance.
The hint of reluctance in his voice when he finally said yes—a strange squeak that clearly stated he did not wish to dine with her—had pounded against her pride, threatening to shatter it.
Was she that undesirable that she had to threaten a man in order to get him to agree to eat with her?
“What are you going to wear?” her sister asked, cheerful. Faith had arrived only minutes ago to help her prepare for the “big day.”
“I don’t know,” she answered, “but I can’t wear anything until I find my black shoes.” Lips compressed into a thin line, she frantically searched through a sea of makeup on the counter, then a pile of clothes on the floor. Right now, she was wearing only her new matching bra and panties made of opalescent material that picked up different hues of light. The color reminded her of Tristan’s eyes. “Have you seen my black shoes? I’ve looked everywhere. They have to be here.”
“Calm down, calm down.” Faith’s reassuring tone did nothing to pierce Julia’s shell of panic. “I’ll find them.”
“He’s supposed to be here in one hour and two minutes, and I can’t find my shoes! I’m not dressed, and my hair looks like crap. Calm down? I don’t think so!”
Faith clasped her by the shoulders, forcing her to cease her frenzied search. “This is a date, Jules, not an execution. Take a deep breath. That’s it. Now, slowly release every molecule of air. Good girl.”
“What am I doing?” Julia rubbed at her temples, trying to ward off the oncoming ache. “Dating is stupid. Men are stupid. I shouldn’t be doing this. Why am I doing this?”
“Because you hope to have a family of your own.”
The enormity of the situation hit her all at once. Eyes wide, Julia sprinted to the bathroom, both hands covering her mouth. At the toilet, she hunched over and emptied the contents of her stomach. Faith stood behind her in the next instant, holding her hair out of the way.
Why was she putting herself through this? And what roused her nervousness more? The thought of making a fool of herself in front of Peter…or Tristan?
Tristan. Definitely Tristan.
Julia hated the fact that he and Faith were tagging along. The lucky couple would get to witness every faux pas she committed. So easily she pictured herself spilling vegetable soup down her dress, getting spinach stuck between her teeth and toilet paper attaching itself to her shoe. Not her black shoes, though, because she didn’t know where the heck they were.
She rubbed her temple. Even though Tristan had practice-flirted with her, she still wasn’t sure she knew what to do or say to a guy. All morning her old insecurities had beat against her resolve, and now they fought for complete domination. She was going to make a fool of
