As her hair was drying, it had begun twisting into its usual corkscrew curls and now she yanked it up and into a careless knot. Her reflection in the mirror looked a little feverish, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it, so she went back downstairs.
Archer was sprawled on the unforgivingly hard, straight-backed couch as comfortably as he’d been sprawled on the overstuffed chair in his own home.
The coffee had also been wiped up from the floor, though there was a small wet spot on the edge of the area rug. It could have been a lot worse. The rug was as white as the couch.
“Just sit down, Nell,” he said calmly when she hovered there at the base of the stairs. “And tell me what happened with Pastore.”
Her hand tightened over the newel post. “After you tell me what happened last night.” Her cheeks felt as feverish as they’d looked in her mirror.
“You mean after you were finished dancing on the bar?”
She winced. “I had hoped that was just a bad dream.”
“Look at the bright side. At least you still had on your shirt when the cops showed.”
She released the post and slunk over to the opposite end of the couch. The side chair that matched it was piled with law books that she kept meaning to take to the office. “Guess it’s good I’ve already parted ways with Martin. If he heard about that, I’d have been in a different heap of trouble.”
“Why did you part ways?”
She pressed her tongue against her teeth, studying his unfairly handsome face. “I didn’t make partner.” It was the truth; just not the truth he’d requested. “I thought it was time for a change.”
His eyes narrowed, but after a moment, he shrugged slightly. “Okay. So now what? Have a plan?”
“I have a lot of contacts,” she managed. “I’m sure I’ll find a new firm without too much trouble.”
“You can always work for me.”
She couldn’t stop the choked sound that rose in her throat. “I know you don’t mean that.” And when he’d made the proposition of working together all those years ago, it had been a with situation, not a for.
He shrugged again. “It would sure piss off Ros, though. Which is par for the course. I’m already in the doghouse with one of my other sisters. Why not make it two.”
She pressed her lips together and silence fell between them. She crossed her ankles, then uncrossed them. He showed no sign of leaving. And he still hadn’t answered her question about what had occurred the night before.
She toyed with her ragged thumbnail and changed tack. “What doghouse with which sister?” Not including Rosalind, he had four, three of whom were identical triplets.
“Greer. Her youngest, Finn, turns one today. She and her husband, Ryder, are having a big party.”
She gave him a sharp look. “Then why are you here?” He’d always put his family first. He was even loyal to Ros in a way. Despite the strained relationship Ros had with her mother, who lived several hours away in Braden, Archer made a point of personally delivering messages and the gifts that Meredith kept sending for birthdays and Christmases and every other little reason she could think of. Ros said he did it to annoy her. Nell had never been so sure. She would have loved to have a mother still around to send her messages and silly little gifts.
“I’ll get over to Braden soon enough for cake,” he told her.
Which reminded her of her own birthday cake from the day before. Birthday cake and champagne. Way too much champagne.
She folded her fingers together. “Why was I in your bed? We didn’t, uh—”
“Play doctor like we used to?”
She gaped. “We never played doctor,” she said in a fierce whisper.
He leaned across the cushion separating them. That faint, annoying smile played across his lips. He drew his finger slowly along her cheek, then tapped it once, lightly, against her lower lip.
Her skin burned and she found it very hard to breathe.
He leaned a few inches closer and his deep voice seemed to drop another octave into a whisper of his own. “Then how do we know what each other’s bits and pieces look like?”
Every cell in her body lurched. “We agreed not to ever talk about that,” she managed after a moment.
His smile widened slightly. “Times change. We didn’t do anything wrong. As I recall, it was quite...right.”
One night. One night during her last month of law school when she’d succumbed to his appeal.
Nell had never told anyone.
Not even Ros.
And it had taken her years before she’d managed to file the experience away in the dusty past where it belonged. While he had just continued onward, changing one woman on his arm for the next with routine ease.
The amazing thing was he’d never seemed to leave anyone with hard feelings.
Except her.
But admitting that then or now was anathema.
She stiffened her resolve. “You still haven’t answered the question, either.”
His lashes dropped slightly. He sat back, stretching out his long legs, and smiled his unreadable smile. “You were in my guest room,” he finally said.
Relief swept through her. “Thank God.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t need to sound so relieved there, Cornelia.”
“Heaven forbid someone bruise your considerable ego.” She pushed to her feet and stepped over his legs. “Your nephew’s birthday party is waiting.” She opened the door with a pointed flourish.
He exhaled as if she were the one trying his patience, and stood. He walked over to the door. “If you need me, you know how to reach me.”
Her hand tightened around the doorknob. “I won’t need you.”
The amused tilt of his lips twisted slightly. “I know.”
Then he stepped past her and strode down the walkway toward the fancy pickup truck parked at the curb.
She was still standing in the doorway watching when he drove away.
No. She wouldn’t need him.
She wouldn’t need anyone.
It was a lesson she’d learned when she’d been sixteen. And every time she’d forgotten it since then, all
