Beth Andrews - Feels Like Home

She slowly lowered her arm. The sunlight picked up the golden threads in his hair, and though his hands were in his pockets, one hip leaning against the windowsill, there was still an…edge to him. A hardness he couldn’t hide even when he thought he was all alone. The same hardness she’d detected in him earlier.

She was afraid she was the cause of it.

As if sensing her presence, he stiffened and turned, catching her staring at him like a lovesick newlywed. It was as if she was transported back to when her entire world had revolved around him. When all she’d cared about was making him happy, and her greatest fear had been of not being the woman he wanted her to be.

She bit the inside of her cheek.

“Do you have a minute?” she asked, when it was obvious he wasn’t going to invite her in.

He wanted to say no. She could see that clearly in the set of his jaw. The coolness in his eyes. Instead, he inclined his head. An affirmation? In condescension? She wasn’t sure.

She stepped into the room. He didn’t move, but looked her over from the top of her freshly heat-ironed hair to the ruffle on her blouse and the edge of her skirt at her knees. Her scalp prickled.

And when something cold and wet nudged her hand, she about jumped right out of her Jimmy Choos and hit the ceiling.

Her heart in her throat, she glanced down at a large dog with brown eyes and shiny, rust-colored fur. She lifted her hand to her mouth, biting gently on the knuckle of her forefinger—something she hadn’t done since she was ten and had finally given in to her mother’s constant nagging and broken the bad habit. She dropped her hand. The dog barked and Yvonne recoiled.

“She won’t hurt you.”

Unwilling to take her eyes off the dog—or those teeth—for more than a second, Yvonne didn’t so much as glance at Aidan. “No. I…I’m sure she won’t.”

Except that for every hesitant step back Yvonne took, the dog took one forward.

“Lily,” Aidan said in his deep voice. “Come here.”

The dog—Lily—sniffed at the laptop Yvonne gripped in her hand. Sweat broke out along her hairline. She hoped Aidan couldn’t hear the wild thumping of her heart.

Aidan, however, with his watchful eyes and quick mind, never missed anything.

He snapped his fingers. “Lily. Now.”

After one more sniff, the dog padded over to him. He patted her head—as a reward for obeying him or because the dog hadn’t ripped Yvonne’s hand off at the wrist, she didn’t know.

Maybe both.

“I…” She swallowed and tried again. “I didn’t know you had a…a dog.”

Unrolling the sleeves of his denim shirt, he raised his eyebrows. “I hadn’t realized I was to keep you abreast of any pets I may or may not have. Or did I miss something in our divorce agreement?”

She blushed furiously. “No. No, of course not. I just… I had no idea you liked—” she glanced at the dog, which seemed to be watching her with more interest than was warranted “—animals.”

“Now you do.”

“Right.” But…what else didn’t she know about him? After all, it’d been almost seven years since she’d seen him last. A lot could happen in that amount of time. A lump formed in her throat. Oh, dear Lord. “Did you…have you remarried?” she asked, looking around the room for signs of a wife.

She cringed. But it was too late to take her question back, much as she would like to.

He paused in the act of buttoning his sleeve. “No.”

She felt light-headed. “Oh. That’s…” What? A relief? A disappointment? She wasn’t sure which one would be the bigger lie. “I was engaged,” she heard herself blurt out, the nails of her free hand digging into her palm. “It didn’t work out.”

Aidan went completely still. For a moment she wondered if he was even breathing. But then he lifted his head and his expression was so dispassionate, goose bumps rose on her arms. “I don’t remember asking.”

No. Of course he hadn’t. Why did she bring it up? She hardly enjoyed discussing her broken engagement or her ex-fiancé—the man her parents had chosen for her once her divorce from Aidan had been final. A man who’d wanted her because of her name.

She needed to stay calm and get her rioting emotions under control before he saw through her facade and took that control away from her.

Yvonne smiled, professional, confident and totally fake. “I was hoping we could go over a few things—if you have time, that is.”

“Actually, I’m in the middle of something.”

Her expression never faltered. “Yes, I could see how busy you were when I came in. But, perhaps when you do get a free minute, we could—”

“My schedule seems to be full for the next few days,” he said, crossing his arms. “Sorry.”

She set her free hand on her hip. “Diane said you were running the winery. That I had to speak to you about any ideas regarding hosting events.”

“That’s right.”

“So when, exactly,” she said through barely moving lips, “can this conversation take place?”

He crossed to his massive mahogany desk and flipped a page of his appointment book. “I can give you thirty minutes Monday morning at eight.”

“But that’s—” she did a quick calculation. “—five days from now.”

“Look at that. All those accounting classes did pay off.”

“I have only six weeks to get your mother’s wedding planned,” she said in carefully modulated tones. “I can’t wait until Monday.”

“It’s the best I can do.”

Had she forgotten how stubborn he was? “In that case,” she said, all sweetness and light while she clutched her laptop case, “Monday will be fine.”

“Have a list of the topics you want to discuss, along with your ideas, to me by Friday.”

“So you won’t have to spend any more time in my company than necessary?”

He sat on the thronelike leather chair and leaned back. The flat line of his mouth and the way he studied her gave her the answer to her question. “I guess I’ll see you Monday then.”

She blushed. He was dismissing her. Oh, it was polite enough, she supposed, but it still felt as if he’d put a foot to her rear and given her a good shove.

Yvonne turned and even took a step toward the door before facing him again. “Maybe it would help if we got a few things out in the open.”

“Help what?”

“Help ease this…awkwardness.”

Awkwardness she couldn’t stand. That made her want to hide within herself so she wouldn’t do or say anything to make things worse.

Except he didn’t seem to be uncomfortable in the least. His hands were linked together on his flat stomach, his shoulders relaxed. The only sign he wasn’t less than perfectly put together were the slight wrinkles on his sleeves from having rolled them up earlier.

Some things never changed. As always, he was calm, his thoughts neatly hidden, his feelings under wraps. While she fought not to show how frazzled she was, how worried that she’d say the wrong thing.

“Your mother assured me I’ll be treated fairly and without bias while I’m here,” Yvonne said, sounding even to her own ears like the petulant princess Aidan thought she was.

“But you doubt her word?”

“Not at all.” She’d be a fool to doubt what Diane said. Besides, she wanted to believe her job here could go smoothly. “But I’d like to hear it from you.”

He sat up slowly. “Hear what, exactly?”

“That you’ll be fair. That you’re going to give me a chance to do my job.”

She had to force herself not to squirm under his watchful gaze. “I can guarantee that you’ll be treated like any other employee.”

“But I’m not any other employee. I was your wife.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “Was being the operative word.”