“So the story… What do they know?”
“As little as I could get away with.” She thought for a moment. “They know you were in the army. And they know I met you through Uncle Jamie.”
“And we fell in love. How sweet.”
“Actually, no. I told them we had to get married. I was pregnant.”
His gaze shot from the road to her face, then down to her stomach, and then thankfully back to the road. “You were?”
“Of course I wasn’t. They think I lost the baby at three months, but that seemed more believable than the whole love thing.”
“You don’t believe in love?” He sounded vaguely amused.
It felt weird talking about love with this man. Not even in her fantasies had he ever told her he loved her. She didn’t have that good of an imagination. But best not think about fantasies with his big body so close to her in the confines of the car. It was having a weird effect on her concentration.
She gave a little shrug. “Maybe, but it didn’t seem likely that anyone would believe you’d fallen in love with me.”
He frowned. “Why not? Don’t you think you’re loveable?”
The question sort of stopped her. The truth was, while she was sure her parents had loved her, she could hardly remember them. Her Uncle Jamie was fond of her but she wouldn’t call it love. Her grandmother…sometimes she thought her grandmother hated her.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But anyway, at the time it seemed more believable.” And it had really pissed them off—that had been an added bonus. Her grandmother hadn’t spoken to her for a year afterward. Not even after she’d written and told them about the miscarriage. A whole lovely year.
“So I take it your family wasn’t happy.”
“They might have forgiven me if you were an officer.”
“And a gentleman.”
“Yes.” She frowned, then added quickly, “Not that I don’t think you’re a gentleman or anything.”
“Honey, I’m about as far from a gentleman as you can get. And don’t worry about offending me—you won’t.”
When he called her honey, little flutters started up in her belly. She tried to ignore them. “Anyway, I told them you were a soldier and…” She chewed on her lip. He’d said she couldn’t offend him. She wasn’t sure that was true, and she would no doubt soon find out. “I said you weren’t very bright.”
“What?”
Yup—he definitely sounded disgruntled. “I said you were gorgeous and sweet but a little slow.”
“Sweet?” He sounded almost outraged.
What was wrong with sweet? “And gorgeous,” she repeated to make up for the slow bit.
They’d stopped at a set of traffic lights and he turned to face her. “You think I’m gorgeous?”
Why was he asking her that? He must know he was. She was betting he had women chasing after him all the time. She studied his face—the intense blue eyes, the high cheekbones, the long line of his jaw, the narrow nose. He was stunning. She sniffed. “You’re okay.”
He chuckled, and she liked the sound. It did all sorts of strange things to her insides.
“So I’m thick?”
“Yes. If grandmother asks anything you don’t know the answer to, just act…”
“Stupid.”
She relaxed a little; he seemed to have taken that well. “You stayed in the army after we were married. I thought that best in case of any surprise inspections. If anyone turned up on my doorstep unannounced, I could always say you were out of the country.”
“Makes sense.”
“You could probably say you left recently though—just be a little vague. Then we need to decide what you’re doing next.” She cast him a quick look. He was concentrating on the road; they were coming up to the Ritz and running out of time. “What do you actually do?”
“I run a security firm. Started it up straight after we married.”
“Is that what you needed the money for?”
“No. I needed it for something else, but that didn’t work out. So I started the company. And it’s done well. So I can afford to pay you back. With interest.”
“I don’t want paying back.” She really didn’t want to get into that discussion now. She was already wound up enough. “We’ll say you work in security. What else? I sometimes came out to visit you, and we took at least one vacation a year together. But we haven’t spent that much time with each other, so it’s understandable if there are things we don’t know. But maybe we should cover a few of the basics. What’s your favorite color? Mine’s orange.”
“Black.”
“Food?”
“Steak.”
“Oh. I’m a vegetarian. TV or reading?”
“Reading.” He glanced over with a hint of a smile. “Perhaps I should stick to comic books to fit in with my image.”
She bit back her own smile—he needed to take this seriously. “Perhaps.”
“So ours is more of a physical than a cerebral relationship?” he asked as he pulled up in front of the Ritz.
“I suppose.”