God, get a grip, Sabrina.
Dragging my attention away from his loveliness, I force a tight smile. “Well, that’s a good thing. Isn’t it?”
He nods, but the brow wrinkle and the odd look in his eyes remains. Before I can ask what’s wrong, he flashes another megawatt grin, and says, “It’s a wonderful thing. Almost as wonderful as warm eggs, which ours won’t be if we don’t hurry.”
The vulnerable moment past, Andrew rests his hand on the small of my back, urging me into motion again. Maybe he’s genuinely starving—jumping out of helicopters must work up an appetite—or maybe he’s just fussy about his eggs.
Either way, it’s best that he cut our conversation short.
Lizzy would never ask a stranger what’s wrong. She doesn’t pry into other people’s personal business unless she knows she’s welcome. Even then, there are days when I have to hurl myself at her feet and moan like a dying walrus to get her to notice that I need girl talk. Most of the time, we’re as in sync as any twins, but if Lizzy’s deep into a design project or dealing with her own issues, she retreats into an inner sanctum even I can’t reach.
It’s best if Andrew doesn’t get used to “Lizzy” being too attentive to his emotions, or he might think something’s wrong after the wedding.
I have to work harder at channeling my sister and ignore the Sabrina urge to lean in and get to know the person I’m spending time with. I’ll have a chance to get to know Andrew later. He’ll be my brother-in-law, after all, and lots of people end up being friends with their in-laws.
Friends.
Yes. Maybe Andrew and I will be friends. That would be nice. Surely, once a certain amount of time has passed, I’ll forget that the feel of his fingers pressed into the hollow of my spine made me feel like a swarm of bees were making honey between my hip bones.
Sweet, sticky honey…
Holy mold spores, I need an intervention. ASAP.
I’m silently brainstorming ways to curb my suddenly spunky libido when Andrew and I pass under a rose-covered arbor and I’m struck dumb, all rational thought banished by the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.
Chapter Nine
Andrew
“This is incredible. Completely incredible.” Elizabeth drifts deeper into the rose garden, cupping a fat yellow blossom and leaning down for a reverent sniff that summons a moan from low in her throat.
A sexy moan…
A very fucking sexy moan that instantly has me thinking thoughts that are not appropriate for breakfast with a sweet girl I intend to send back to her own country as soon as possible.
“Exquisite,” she murmurs, spinning in a slow circle, her eyes shining with appreciation. “I’ve never seen so many varietals in one place before. Oh, and a Quatre Saisons!” She circles around the main bed to a patch of pink-flowered bushes in the corner of the sheltered garden. “They’re the oldest continuously blooming European roses! Some people say they’ve been around since the Crusades.”
She shakes her head in wonder as she cups two frilly blossoms, one in each hand, making my thoughts drift to things that I would like to cup, one in each hand.
Stop it. Now! Before you ruin your chance to get the plan back on track.
Silently cursing myself for not making time to get laid before Elizabeth arrived and cut my apparently sex-starved state off at the pass, I say, “I didn’t realize you were a rose enthusiast.”
“All plants, really.” She crosses to another bed, this one filled with peach roses the same shade as her lips.
Her unexpectedly lovely lips that I have thought about kissing at least three times, which is four too many…
“It started when I was little, wandering the forest on our mountain,” she says. “If I went home, I’d have to sit at my desk for hours doing lessons and whatever chores Minnesota Nanny had decided would build my character.”
“Minnesota Nanny?” I ask, lips curving.
She lifts a shoulder. “Her name was Lorelei, but my sister couldn’t say her L’s until she was almost ten, so we all called her Minnesota.” She laughs. “It drove her crazy at first. She would give us time-outs with our noses on the wall every time we said Minnesota instead of Miss Lorelei.”
“She sounds beastly.”
“Not really, just old-fashioned,” Elizabeth says. “I probably should have stayed home and let her build my character, but I was too high energy for that when I was little. So I learned which plants in our forest were edible so I could stay out all day and not head home until sunset.” She laughs softly to herself. “I thought that was so fun, living off the land like a prehistoric cave girl. It made me excited to study all sorts of plants. Flowers and herbs and all the rest.”
“Fascinating,” I murmur.