Chapter 12

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Memories scanned through her mind, and she viewed them through the new lens of Philip’s stifled feelings for her. Things she’d always wondered about suddenly made sense.

Philip, slightly drunk at Rosa’s wedding reception, raising his champagne flute to toast her as she stood with her back to Jake, safe within the protective embrace of her new husband’s arms.

"To the beautiful bride," Philip murmured. "A lifetime of happiness."

There was something dark in Philip’s expression, a gaping emptiness that wouldn’t be filled by this sip of champagne or the next glass or even the entire bottle.

"You’re drunk," she’d said, thinking he was mocking her.

"Damn straight."

"Philip loves a good reception," Jake said behind her, chuckling, but Jake apparently didn’t see the disquieting light in his best man’s eyes.

"I didn’t get to kiss the bride," Philip said.

Staring up at Philip with her husband’s hands on her hips, Rosa wanted to say no, but there was something about Philip that had always called to her, touched her, no matter how she tried to ignore it.

Tilting her cheek, sandwiched between the two men, Rosa accepted Philip’s kiss, which touched the outer corner of her mouth, lingered too long and sparked a flutter of something illicit deep in her belly.

Philip pulled away, smiled that crooked smile of unbearable sadness, and disappeared into the crowd on the dance floor.

"Almost there, now." The chauffeur caught her eye in the rear-view mirror and winked.

"Great."

Another memory slipped forward to take center stage in her mind: Philip comforting her at Jake’s memorial service. She’d been wrecked—barely able to put one foot in front of the other—and yet blessedly numb.

Philip took her cold hands in his strong warm ones. "You’ll get through this."

Listless, she shrugged. "If you say so."

"I know so," he said. "You’re the strongest woman I know." Emotion colored his cheeks and she saw the rough bob of his Adam’s apple. "And you’re the best thing that ever happened to Jake."

She wanted to sob, to collapse, to die. "Thank you."

"He asked me to look out for you and Brennan…"

"Here we are."

Rosa blinked herself out of her daydream in time to see the car turn down a long private drive and roll to a stop in front of an enormous red brick Georgian house with black shutters.

She gasped. Was this his house?

Philip was there on the porch, wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and a thrilled smile a mile wide. He opened the door and she started to climb out, but he climbed in, scooting her across the seat and settling next to her.

He kissed her cheek. "Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart."

"Happy Valentine’s Day."

He took her hand and slung his other arm across the seat behind her. She had the fleeting thought that now was the time for establishing ground rules such as no touching, but she couldn’t make her mouth say the words when their fingers intertwined so perfectly and his surrounding warmth felt so right.

"I can’t believe I’m here." She stared back at the house as the car rolled off. "Aren’t we staying at your house? That is your house, right? Or did you just sneak onto the most beautiful property in the city to try to impress me before the real owners discovered you?"

He laughed, and then she laughed, and then he had her face in his hands and was kissing her as if he absolutely could not refuse the temptation.

"Sorry," he said when they broke apart. "Couldn’t help myself."

"You’ll be severely punished later." Breathless, she tried and failed to repress her grin.

"That is my house, but we’re going to Columbus tonight, so I hope you can stand an hour or so in the car with me. Casablanca is showing at an art theater."

"Casablanca?" She tried to pick her jaw up off the floor. "That’s my favorite—"

"—movie, yeah, I know. You mentioned it that night we double-dated and saw Gladiator. Remember?"

"And you remembered I liked Twizzlers too, huh?"

"Of course."

"I can’t believe you went to this trouble, Philip. You make me feel so special."

"You are special." Leaning in, he kissed her again, hard and quick this time. "I do have a few rules for the night, though. For one: I get to kiss you whenever I want to."

"Well," she said, feeling lighthearted and enthralled, enchanted by this man and the possibilities of this night. "I wouldn’t want to break any rules."

"Rule two: let’s just see what happens tonight, okay?"

Yes, her heart said, but she was too old and too smart to let her heart run wild with girlish flights of fancy. She was a widow and a single mother with responsibilities, and this was nothing but a moment out of time before she resumed life as usual.

"This is only for one night, Philip. I’m not ready for a relationship. I hope you can understand and respect that."

To her consternation, the gleaming light of determination in his eyes intensified. She realized he was about to use every tool in his considerable arsenal to change her mind. Seduce her. And she’d be damned if there wasn’t a tiny rebellious piece of her soul that wished he would.

"If I’ve only got one night with you," he murmured, running his thumb along her bottom lip, melting her resistance bit by slow bit until she knew she’d end the night as a puddle of overheated flesh and overactive hormones at his feet, "I’d better get started."

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