The Inconveniently Engaged Prince. Mindy Neff
grovel as well as I gloat.” He grinned, and the power of those dimples was like a thrilling sock to her solar plexus.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You’d be doing me a huge favor. It’s Sunday brunch at my parents’ house. Although they’re great people, things like that can be tedious.”
“Your parents’ house! I’m not crashing a family breakfast uninvited. I haven’t even met them.”
“You won’t be crashing, I just invited you, and you’ll meet them tomorrow.”
“You can’t just invite a guest to come home with you.”
“Why not?”
“It might be awkward.”
“My mother would be insulted if she heard that. She prides herself on making company feel welcome. Come on, Vickie. I want to spend time with you. And I’d like you to meet my parents. Say yes.”
Going home to meet his parents seemed to be rushing things, yet she couldn’t believe how much she wanted to do that. To meet the people he’d talked about, see how he’d lived, grown up.
“I don’t know how you keep getting me to change my mind, but, yes.”
He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles. Stunned by the gesture, she could barely think.
“I’ll pick you up at ten in the morning, then.”
She nodded, watched him unfold his long, lean body and get out of the car. “Be careful driving home.”
She merely nodded again, started the engine and backed out of the driveway.
He’d kissed her hand. Now how was a woman supposed to concentrate on driving after that?
HE WAS on her doorstep promptly at ten the next morning. With her nerves in a mess, she paused with her hand on the door, wondered if she should invite him in, hoped he wasn’t the sort to roam and snoop. Her bedroom looked like a teenager had gone in there and thrown a major tantrum.
Giving her appearance one last check in the hall mirror, she took a breath to calm her nerves. She hadn’t known what to wear for a meet-the-parents brunch, and had tried on every one of her meager outfits, finally settling on a pair of black slacks, and a knit turtleneck sweater in soft heather. A black leather hip belt matched her chunky calf-high boots. The extra three-inch height the boot soles gave her made her feel a little more confident.
She opened the door, and her nerves skittered all over again. Jace Carradigne was the epitome of the word male.
“Hi.” He held out a slim velvet box. “This is for you.”
“For what?” Sissy inched out from behind the couch, checking out the strange man in her domain.
“Just because.”
Her heart pumped. Slowly, she lifted the hinged lid, then sucked in a breath. The bracelet was simple in design, made of delicate gold links with tiny heart-shaped charms set with brilliant sapphires.”
“Oh, my gosh. It’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say. I can’t…I shouldn’t—”
“If you’re going to tell me you shouldn’t accept it, you’ll hurt my feelings.”
“But it’s too much.” She couldn’t resist running her finger over the cool stones.
“I saw it when I was poking around some shops this morning and thought of you. It matches the rings you wear.”
She automatically fingered the two sapphire rings on her finger. She’d bought them herself. Other than her watch and a couple of pairs of earrings, they were the only jewelry she owned.
Emotions worked in her throat. No one had ever bought her jewelry. And she’d received precious few gifts in her life. The homes she’d lived in growing up hadn’t had funds or the inclination to spend foolishly on kids who were only temporary.
“You shouldn’t be spending this kind of money on me.”
“Vickie, I’ve made a fortune and I’m dying to spend it. You don’t make it easy, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”
“Well.” She admired the bracelet, wondered why she felt weepy all of a sudden. “You handle matters very well. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Since she still hadn’t invited him in, he stepped over the threshold, took the box from her and lifted the bracelet out. “Here, let me put it on for you.”
She held out her wrist. Chills raced up her arm as his fingers brushed against her skin. She stared at the top of his head as he bent over his task. Everything inside her wanted to fall. For him. It was an old pattern. An old habit.
But maybe this time would be different.
Take it slow, Vickie. Don’t rush.
He looked up at her, smiled softly. “Ready to go?”
The sapphire hearts tinkled merrily as she lowered her hand. Oh, damn it. She was going to cry after all. Tears welled, even though she fought like mad to battle them back.
Rather than making her feel foolish, he simply swept a gentle thumb across her cheek, wiped away the moisture, then pulled her to him and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “That’s the best thank-you I’ve ever received over a gift,” he whispered.
“I feel like an idiot.”
This time he kissed her eyelids, her cheeks. “You’re perfect.”
If he’d pushed even the slightest, she would have closed the door behind him and invited him into her bedroom, never mind the mess. But he didn’t press, didn’t take advantage, never even came close to her lips.
He was a man of honor, integrity, and the best kind of gentleman.
And despite her sternest warnings to herself, she was terribly afraid she was falling in love.
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