Grayson's Vow
Page 65
Stupid, Kira, I admonished myself. A few kisses, a few personal revelations and you thought Grayson was what? Your friend? Your true husband? You are such an idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot! The way he had looked at that woman downstairs was . . . not how he had ever looked at me. But she was married to his brother . . . it wasn't like he could ever have her again. God, but just the fact that he still wanted her hurt enough in and of itself. And I hated it. Hated it.
I stood up straight. Well, thank goodness I hadn't given myself to him completely. Things were fine. I was fine. So we'd shared a few moments. Now we'd go back to the original plan, which was a much better idea anyway. How I'd let myself veer so far off track, I had no idea.
There was a sudden knock at the door and I startled, stepping away from it and turning around. I pulled it open to find Vanessa standing before me. She smiled a little bit shyly. "May I come in?" she asked.
I swallowed, but returned her smile and gestured for her to enter. "I'm just showering in here," I lied. "The shower in the master bath is broken."
Vanessa sighed. "God, what isn't? It looks so different around here . . ." She trailed off, the look on her face saying it all—she didn't mean "different" in a positive way.
Sugie came over and sniffed shyly at Vanessa's feet. Vanessa stepped away, beginning to bend down to offer Sugie her hand, but then withdrawing it quickly when she got a good look at Sugie's face. "Oh, she's . . . is she—?"
"Her name is Sugie," I said, scooping her up and depositing her on the chair to the right of the bed and giving her a few pets before walking back to Vanessa.
She took a seat on the vanity bench and crossed her shapely legs. I sat down on the storage trunk at the foot of the large bed. Vanessa was wearing a short, flirty pink skirt and a pale gray, silky tank top that showed off her summer tan. There were several strands of beads knotted between her breasts. She slid her fingers down them in a nervous gesture as she studied me. I fidgeted under her scrutiny.
"I love your outfit," I said. And I did. It was classy, but fun and fashionable, too.
She smiled broadly. "Thanks. It's one from my own collection. I have a little boutique in San Diego. I'm considering opening one here, too, actually. That's part of the goal of this trip—to find a space. I didn't grow up with much, and dressing fashionably on a small budget has always sort of been my passion. That's the goal with my shop—fashion chic on a budget." She blushed prettily and lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm babbling."
She cleared her throat before raising her eyes to mine and continuing. "We were so filled with happiness when we heard Gray had gotten married," she said, changing the subject. And she looked sincere. I wrung my hands in my lap.
"Thank you," I finally said. "I mean, I . . . don't know exactly what happened between Grayson and Shane, but I hope they can find a way to work things out . . . " God, this was awkward. Was I supposed to be pretending Grayson's and my marriage was real? I wished Grayson had taken a moment to talk to me before I had to have a one-on-one with Vanessa Hawthorn. Vanessa looked like she was struggling, too, and I had to wonder how much she felt for Grayson. Why had she done what she'd done? I wanted desperately to ask her, but it didn't feel right, and I wasn't even sure I should act as if I knew anything at all.
"Me, too," she said, biting her lip. "They're in the study talking. Anyway, I really just wanted to take a few more minutes to say hi to you and let you know how happy I am to have a sister."
"Thank you, I appreciate that. And me, too." I smiled. "I'm happy to have a sister as well." Even though I'll be a temporary one. I twisted the ring on my finger in nervousness as Vanessa stood. Her outfit was perfect and unwrinkled. How had she managed that if they'd been traveling? I really wanted to hate her for many reasons, but she was making it difficult with her kindness and sincerity. No wonder Grayson loved her. She was everything I was not.
Her eyes moved down to my ring finger. "May I?" she asked, her brow creasing slightly. I glanced down at my hand and then lifted it as she grasped it in hers and studied the ring Grayson had given me. She drew in a breath.
"An opal. Look!" And she lifted her engagement ring to show me her center stone was an opal as well. "It's my very favorite stone," she explained. "It signifies love and passion." She grinned broadly, her teeth straight and perfectly white. "Well this proves it, we both love opals. We were meant to be sisters." She moved forward and hugged me quickly, the scent of some light, expensive perfume that was just as lovely as her hitting my nose, and then just as quickly stepped away. "We'll talk more later?"
"Sure." I smiled weakly.
When she left, I sat down on the bed, my eyes narrowed on the ring on my finger. I recalled Diane Fernsby saying she knew Grayson had bought a ring for Vanessa, though he'd never had a chance to propose. I hadn't imagined this ring was an engagement ring because of the unique center stone, but I'd been wrong. "He gave me the ring he’d intended to use to ask her to marry him," I whispered disbelievingly. Anger and hurt lanced down my spine and I twisted the ring until it came off.
"Scaly beast," I murmured halfheartedly under my breath. But, somehow, calling him a name didn't diminish the hurt. Calling him a name didn't repair the tiny fissure in my heart, the one his blindingly beautiful scales had created.
I stood up straight. Well, thank goodness I hadn't given myself to him completely. Things were fine. I was fine. So we'd shared a few moments. Now we'd go back to the original plan, which was a much better idea anyway. How I'd let myself veer so far off track, I had no idea.
There was a sudden knock at the door and I startled, stepping away from it and turning around. I pulled it open to find Vanessa standing before me. She smiled a little bit shyly. "May I come in?" she asked.
I swallowed, but returned her smile and gestured for her to enter. "I'm just showering in here," I lied. "The shower in the master bath is broken."
Vanessa sighed. "God, what isn't? It looks so different around here . . ." She trailed off, the look on her face saying it all—she didn't mean "different" in a positive way.
Sugie came over and sniffed shyly at Vanessa's feet. Vanessa stepped away, beginning to bend down to offer Sugie her hand, but then withdrawing it quickly when she got a good look at Sugie's face. "Oh, she's . . . is she—?"
"Her name is Sugie," I said, scooping her up and depositing her on the chair to the right of the bed and giving her a few pets before walking back to Vanessa.
She took a seat on the vanity bench and crossed her shapely legs. I sat down on the storage trunk at the foot of the large bed. Vanessa was wearing a short, flirty pink skirt and a pale gray, silky tank top that showed off her summer tan. There were several strands of beads knotted between her breasts. She slid her fingers down them in a nervous gesture as she studied me. I fidgeted under her scrutiny.
"I love your outfit," I said. And I did. It was classy, but fun and fashionable, too.
She smiled broadly. "Thanks. It's one from my own collection. I have a little boutique in San Diego. I'm considering opening one here, too, actually. That's part of the goal of this trip—to find a space. I didn't grow up with much, and dressing fashionably on a small budget has always sort of been my passion. That's the goal with my shop—fashion chic on a budget." She blushed prettily and lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm babbling."
She cleared her throat before raising her eyes to mine and continuing. "We were so filled with happiness when we heard Gray had gotten married," she said, changing the subject. And she looked sincere. I wrung my hands in my lap.
"Thank you," I finally said. "I mean, I . . . don't know exactly what happened between Grayson and Shane, but I hope they can find a way to work things out . . . " God, this was awkward. Was I supposed to be pretending Grayson's and my marriage was real? I wished Grayson had taken a moment to talk to me before I had to have a one-on-one with Vanessa Hawthorn. Vanessa looked like she was struggling, too, and I had to wonder how much she felt for Grayson. Why had she done what she'd done? I wanted desperately to ask her, but it didn't feel right, and I wasn't even sure I should act as if I knew anything at all.
"Me, too," she said, biting her lip. "They're in the study talking. Anyway, I really just wanted to take a few more minutes to say hi to you and let you know how happy I am to have a sister."
"Thank you, I appreciate that. And me, too." I smiled. "I'm happy to have a sister as well." Even though I'll be a temporary one. I twisted the ring on my finger in nervousness as Vanessa stood. Her outfit was perfect and unwrinkled. How had she managed that if they'd been traveling? I really wanted to hate her for many reasons, but she was making it difficult with her kindness and sincerity. No wonder Grayson loved her. She was everything I was not.
Her eyes moved down to my ring finger. "May I?" she asked, her brow creasing slightly. I glanced down at my hand and then lifted it as she grasped it in hers and studied the ring Grayson had given me. She drew in a breath.
"An opal. Look!" And she lifted her engagement ring to show me her center stone was an opal as well. "It's my very favorite stone," she explained. "It signifies love and passion." She grinned broadly, her teeth straight and perfectly white. "Well this proves it, we both love opals. We were meant to be sisters." She moved forward and hugged me quickly, the scent of some light, expensive perfume that was just as lovely as her hitting my nose, and then just as quickly stepped away. "We'll talk more later?"
"Sure." I smiled weakly.
When she left, I sat down on the bed, my eyes narrowed on the ring on my finger. I recalled Diane Fernsby saying she knew Grayson had bought a ring for Vanessa, though he'd never had a chance to propose. I hadn't imagined this ring was an engagement ring because of the unique center stone, but I'd been wrong. "He gave me the ring he’d intended to use to ask her to marry him," I whispered disbelievingly. Anger and hurt lanced down my spine and I twisted the ring until it came off.
"Scaly beast," I murmured halfheartedly under my breath. But, somehow, calling him a name didn't diminish the hurt. Calling him a name didn't repair the tiny fissure in my heart, the one his blindingly beautiful scales had created.
