But he would have to.
He didn’t want to take a chance on scaring her off, not now when he had her so close. He’d spent the last ten years trying to move on from that horrible night and slowly, small parts of him had, but this was something different.
This was him thinking about a woman, and not just for sex. This was him thinking about a relationship, and though he was a man who didn’t allow himself to be afraid of anything, he also wouldn’t lie to himself. Something about Indy scared him. He’d used his beastly persona to prevent himself from forming close attachments but none of those things had kept him from starting to care for her.
That felt more dangerous than anything he’d experienced before.
Nine
Indy was surprised when the limo pulled up in front of her house at eight on Saturday morning. Conrad had texted her to ask if she could be ready early, so maybe she shouldn’t have been. The driver came to the door and she looked down at her wedge-heeled sandals and the large leather carryall where she’d packed for the weekend on her shoulder and wondered if she was underdressed.
“Ms. Belmont, are you ready?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, closing and locking her door behind her.
The chauffeur opened the rear door and she was surprised to find the backseat empty. She’d expected Conrad. But she sat down and scooted into the air-conditioned car. The screen was down between her and the driver and she seemed to remember that proper etiquette dictated the passenger decide if they wanted privacy or not.
She waited until he was seated before leaning forward.
“Is Mr. Gilbert joining us?”
“He asked me to escort you to Gilbert Manor where he’s waiting for you.”
She leaned back. Obviously, something had changed since last they’d spoken. He had offered to show her around his neighborhood in the city. She sat back as the car drove through the town of Gilbert Corners and then turned left out of town and drove up the winding hills that led to Gilbert Manor.
The main roads had been maintained, but when they turned off them, they became less neat. They drove through Doric columns that supported a marble arch with the name Gilbert on it. The landscaping on both sides of the drive had been maintained, but she could hear the gravel under the tires until they rounded a corner, and the tree-lined drive gave way to a circular solid brick drive that led up to a large portico entrance. There was another man standing at the front door in a dark suit.
Again, not Conrad.
The house was intimidating her a little this time. It wasn’t like when she’d been here for the cook-off. She was clearly a guest of “Mr. Gilbert.” Not Conrad. Not her dear beast.
He opened the door as the car pulled to a stop and offered her his hand, which she took as she climbed out of the back of the limo.
“Welcome to Gilbert Manor, Ms. Belmont. I am Worthington, head of household. Mr. Gilbert asked that I show you inside to your room.”
“I’m not sure I’m staying overnight,” she said, though she’d packed for it.
“It’s just for the day, so you can freshen up.”
She just nodded. The drive wasn’t that far, but when she entered the house, she caught her breath and stopped worrying about Conrad and what was going on. The foyer looked like marble to her untrained eye, and the arches she’d seen back at the entrance were mirrored here.
In fact, the entry hall was wide, bigger than her living room and elegantly appointed. There was a grand staircase in the center with hallways that led off in both directions. Worthington told her the history of the house as he led the way up the stairs, but she wasn’t paying attention. Instead, her eyes were drawn to the portraiture on the walls. There was a striking resemblance between Gilbert and his ancestors.
Worthington stopped down the left hall in front of a door. “Here is your room. Mr. Gilbert wanted to give you some space. I’ll wait outside until you are ready and then escort you to join him in the library.”
She went into the bedroom, pulled out her phone and called Conrad.
“Yes.”
“What’s going on? I thought you hated Gilbert Manor and everything about where you grew up.”
“I don’t hate it all. This place is probably more directly responsible for who I am than the house I lived in with my parents. Is it too formal? I mean, I would get it if you didn’t like it.”
She looked around the elegant room with the four-poster bed and Chippendale furniture. She noticed a dress on the bed that looked light as air, all tulle and satin, and she went closer to examine it.
“I don’t know. And what’s the dress for?” She ran her hand over it. It wasn’t the kind of thing she’d ever worn. She never got to walk the red carpet, and she’d never been invited to a ball. This was...too much.
“It’s too much for a day date.”