A Year With the Millionaire Next Door Page 11

  She didn’t bother waiting to hear Linus’s answer about Teddy. When they reached the top of the stairs, she went straight to the master bedroom to look under the bed, figuring Toffee would hide in a familiar place. She was wrong. After checking the room thoroughly—if Teddy whined about invasion of privacy, he could stuff it—she headed to her own room.

  Linus sat on the bed, fluffy white cat in his lap. “Peace offering,” he said. “Found her sitting next to my pillow. She doesn’t seem too traumatized.”

  “Well, that’s good.” She stroked the cat’s head. “Sorry I scared you, sweetie.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Linus said. “For the bit about the cooler. I should have straight-out said I wanted to take you to dinner. Truth is, I was afraid.”

  “That I would take it the wrong way.”

  He looked her in the eye. “That you would say no.”

  Oh.

  “In case you haven’t guessed, I like your company,” he continued. “I like...spending time with you.”

  “I like...spending time with you, too.” More than she should, really. “In fact, you’re the only person who’s ever been able to drag me away from a project.”

  “Really?”

  “Don’t let it go to your head.” She sat down on the bed next to him. “I’m glad we went out tonight. It was really...” Special, she wanted to say. “Nice.”

  “Yeah, it was. I meant what I said, too, in Avebury. I want you to be happy.”

  Stella’s breath caught in her throat. Linus’s gaze was dark and unshuttered, revealing the vulnerability within. When was the last time a man had looked at her with such sincerity? Ever? The emotion set off a heavy heat deep inside her. She felt special. Wanted.

  They were friends. Good friends. But suddenly friendship wasn’t enough. Her body wanted more. Needed more.

  She began to lean forward, then caught herself. The last time she’d kissed him, he’d pushed her away. She wouldn’t repeat the mistake.

  “I should leave,” Linus said. “Before I do something we regret.”

  “Would we?” Stella asked. “Regret it?”

  “We’re friends.”

  “Friends can have benefits.”

  She waited, watching as his eyes dropped to her mouth. The ache inside her had intensified. Please, she pleaded silently. Please.

  “I don’t want to...”

  “You won’t,” she said. “I know what I’m asking. This won’t change anything.”

  Something flickered in his expression, but it moved too quickly for her to catch. There was no time to think about it anyway, because a moment later he was kissing her. Slowly. Deeply. His fingers tangling in her hair.

  There was a soft thud that she realized was Toffee jumping to the floor. It was the last she thought of the cat as she sank into the mattress, Linus’s body atop hers.

  “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

  Linus laughed and tightened his embrace as Stella gave him a playful shove in the shoulder. This, pressed chest to chest in the sheets of Stella’s bed, was the last place he imagined he’d be when he left London this morning. Hell, it was the last place he’d imagined an hour ago.

  What an hour, though.

  “This won’t change anything.”

  Stella’s words drifted into his post-lovemaking haze. Her attempt at reassurance. That they would still be friends. Friends with benefits. No expectations. No misreading of intentions.

  Why did that bother him?

  “Hey. Where’d you go?” Stella’s gentle voice lured him back to the present.

  “Nowhere important.” He brushed the bangs from her face. Her skin still bore a hint of flush. Stella pink. His new favorite color.

  “Was thinking how nice this feels. Never expected to end up here.”

  “Mmm...” Giving a little purr, she began to nuzzle closer only to pause and pull back. “It’s good, though?”

  The doubt in her voice broke his heart. How on earth could she think otherwise? “Very.” He pressed his lips to her shoulder to emphasize the point.

  “Good.” This time she tucked her head under his chin without pause.

  They lay that way for a while, Linus’s fingers tracing a lazy trail up and down Stella’s spine. There was a soft meow, and a few seconds later a weight landed on the bed and began to purr.

  “Why yes, Toffee, we’d love if you’d join us,” he said.

  Stella giggled. “As far as she’s concerned, you’re the interloper. Her house, remember?”

  “True. Although in fairness, she would assume she owned any house she was in as a matter of feline privilege. Isn’t that right, Toffee?” Proving his point, the cat plopped down against his leg.

  “Do you think Teddy was telling the truth?” He’d prefer not to think of Teddy at all under the circumstances.

  “I don’t know. Like I said, it’s a plausible story. We have no way of proving he isn’t telling the truth.”

  “You’re right. I suppose even if he was lying, there’s not much we can do now. We’ll be back to London tomorrow, and I’ll make sure he’s never alone with Toffee again.”

  “So much for late-night walks in Avebury,” he muttered.

  “Not unless we bring her along.”

  “Wouldn’t that make an interesting picture. The two of us hauling a pet carrier in the moonlight.” He smiled at the image.

  Closing his eyes, he listened to the synchronized rhythm of their breaths. Each rise and fall reminding him of waves crashing against the shore. Little by little, he felt himself being pulled toward sleep.

  “I meant what I said,” Stella said suddenly.

  “About what?” In his dreamlike state, his brain was slow to comprehend. Was she talking about Toffee still?

  “About this not having to change anything.”

  He was awake now, a heaviness filling his stomach. “It won’t?”

  “No, so you don’t have to worry about my freaking out or wonder if you’re hurting me. Because I don’t have any expectations. I promise.”

  “That’s... Okay.” Of course she didn’t have expectations, as she’d made it clear time and again that any kind of emotional entanglement wasn’t part of her plan. And as someone who’d vowed the same, he should be relieved.

  Why, then, was he disappointed?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Winter

  LINUS STARED AT the brightly wrapped package in his hand. Inside was a gold chain with a tiny gold charm shaped like a ribbon. He knew because he’d spent an afternoon debating whether he should buy the bloody thing. A week later, he still wasn’t sure.

  “You’re wasting your time, Linus, old man.”

  Linus stashed the box in his jacket pocket just before his brother, Thomas, clapped him on the shoulder. The normally staid executive was wearing the most garish Christmas sweater known to man and was munching on a Christmas cookie.

  “Christmas Eve was last night,” he said. “You’re going to have to wait a whole three hundred and sixty-five days if you want to catch Santa.”

  Linus forced a smile. “Figured it was worth a try. Seeing as how you all have a special Christmas connection. Kids asleep?”

  “Just about. Maddie crashed before I finished reading her first bedtime story. Rosalind’s tucking in Noel. Who’s the present for?”

  “What present?”

  “The one you just hid in your pocket,” Thomas replied.

  “Oh, that present. It’s nothing. Just something I bought for a friend.”

  His brother took a bite of cookie. “This friend wouldn’t be your pet-sitting neighbor, by any chance?”

  “Estate manager.” The correction was automatic. Linus swore his siblings purposely used the wrong title to bother him. Turning from the fireplace—and his brother—he headed to the other side of the living roo
m, where Thomas had placed the bar.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Thomas replied. “Hardly a surprise. She’s the only person you socialize with outside of family. Why all the fuss?”

  “Because I haven’t decided if I want to give it to her,” Linus replied. “Are you out of Scotch?”

  “Bottom shelf, and why not?”

  For a host of reasons, starting with whether Stella would consider the gift too extravagant—or worse, too sentimental. So uncertain was he that he’d even bought a backup present.

  “I’m not sure, is all. We didn’t talk about exchanging gifts. I don’t want to put her on the spot.”

  In the past, if he was dating someone at Christmastime, he bought her something sparkly. But Stella wasn’t the “something sparkly” type. Nor were they dating. They were “without expectations.”

  Stella had been right about one thing. When they returned from the country, things didn’t change. They continued much as they had before, except that Linus slept over once or twice a week. She didn’t ask where their relationship was going or talk about the future. She didn’t ask him to share anything but her bed. If the two of them stopped sleeping together tomorrow, they would probably carry on. It was the perfect no-guilt affair. And yet, for the past six weeks, he’d been growing more and more unsettled.

  He poured two glasses and handed one to Thomas. “The ice is melted. You’ll have to drink it neat.”

  “I didn’t realize I was drinking,” he replied.

  “I don’t feel like drinking alone.” Linus let the alcohol slide down his throat, savoring its warm burn. “That’s how good Scotch should taste. Merry Christmas,” he said.

  “Merry Christmas.” Thomas mirrored his action before setting the glass down on the bar. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with your neighbor these days.”

  “So?”

  “So nothing. Glad to see you’re getting out again after that whole Victoria nightmare. Susan said the woman seems very nice.”

  “Yeah, she’s fantastic,” Linus replied. The warmth inside him spread up and out, causing him to break out in a smile. “I’ve never met anyone like her.”

  Thomas gave him a long look.

  “It’s not what you think. We’re friends. Good friends.” He washed the words down with another swallow.

  His brother continued to look at him, skepticism evident, so Linus added, “Lady’s choice. She wants to keep things casual.”

  “Ah. Suddenly the present debate makes sense. Never thought I’d see the day when you were more serious than the woman.”

  “I’m not serious, either,” Linus replied. “It’s a mutual arrangement.”

  “Is that why you didn’t bring her to Christmas? Whatever your status, I’d hate to think she’s alone for the holidays.”

  “She’s not. Her parents are visiting from Boston.”

  Stella had been high hover about the visit all week. Everything had to be perfect. The gifts, the decorations, the menu. One thing not on the list was her neighbor-slash-lover. She’d insisted he spend the holiday with his family like he always did.

  Because she didn’t want him feeling obligated, he told himself.

  Problem was, he really wanted to see her. It’d been days since they’d spent time together, and he missed her smile.

  “I’m debating stopping by on my way home to say merry Christmas. I don’t want to intrude. On the other hand, it’s the holiday.”

  Listen to him. He sounded like a lovesick idiot. Was this what it was like for the women he’d dated? This continual vacillating of uncertainty? Clearly, he owed them all apologies.

  “Are you sure this is casual, Linus?” Thomas asked. “Because you’re not acting like you normally do.”

  Because Linus didn’t feel like he normally did. He didn’t want to put a name to the emotions squeezing his chest because then he’d be in real trouble, but his refusal didn’t stop the sensation. “Positive. She’s out of here in six months. Plans to go back and take the international consulting world by storm.”

  “Plans can change,” his brother replied. “Look at me. Couple years ago I was ready to leave the company for good, remember?”

  “Different situation.” Thomas had been trying to save his marriage. Stella’s goals were about winning her father’s pride. “Besides, there’s no reason for her plans to change. We’re simply having fun in the moment. If anything, it’s refreshing to be on the same page with a woman. Much less stress.”

  “Except for the Christmas gift,” Thomas said.

  “Except for the Christmas gift.” Having finished his drink, he debated pouring a second. Two Scotches felt too much like wallowing in alcohol.

  “What did you get her?”

  “A reminder of a very special night we shared, and before you say a word, get your mind out of the gutter. I’m referring to the tree in Avebury.”

  “I have zero idea what you’re talking about, but I say go for it. If I’ve learned anything from being married, it’s that women appreciate thoughtful gestures. If you bought something that has meaning, she’ll like it.” He gave Linus another look, this one using his glass to mask a grin. “Keeping it casual and fun, eh?”

  Linus started to rethink that second Scotch.

  Stella’s sister’s face filled half the divided computer screen. She wore a scrub top and a white lab coat.

  “I wish I could be there with all of you,” she said. “Cafeteria turkey is not the same as Mom’s.”

  “We miss you, too, honey,” Kevin Russo said, “but we understand. There’ll be plenty of time for you to get away one you’re established.”

  “In the meantime, I’ll overnight you a container of stuffing as soon as we get back to Boston,” Rose Russo added.

  “What about me?” Her brother’s face filled the other half of the screen. “I like your stuffing, too.”

  “I’ll send you both stuffing. And apple pie.”

  Stella watched the conversation from the ottoman behind her parents. Toffee sat on her lap, the Angora doing her best to mark Stella’s skirt with fur. Behind her, Agnes’s china was neatly stacked on the dining room table, next to her silverware and glasses. They’d washed everything by hand since her mother was uncomfortable washing borrowed dishes in the dishwasher.

  The Russo family video chat had become a tradition as neither Joe nor Camilla could spare time from work to travel. Both her parents took their continued absences in stride. They liked being able to tell people their oh-so-successful children were too important to spare.

  This was the year she was supposed to be too important to spare as well.

  “How’s London?” Camilla was asking.

  “Very nice,” her mother replied. “Stella’s been a wonderful tour guide.”

  “Guess when your boss is a cat, it’s easy to get time off, hey, sis? Just throw a little extra food in the bowl and you’re good to go?”

  “Catnip,” Stella replied. Her smile was tight, but Joe wouldn’t notice. “Works every time.”

  “I thought maybe you had to bring her everywhere like those crazy cat ladies,” Camilla said.

  “I’m surprised she doesn’t,” her father said. “You should see the routine this cat has. Food. Brushing. She lives like a queen.”

  “Guess you should have gone to grooming school instead of studying finance, sis.”

  “You know, I do more than pet sit,” Stella replied. Why did everyone treat her job like it was a joke? “I manage the estate. I’ll have you know this cat has a sizable investment portfolio—”

  “Which an outside investment company handles,” her father cut in.

  Yes, but Stella worked closely with them.

  Working wasn’t the same as doing, her father had been saying all weekend. He’d been saying a lot of things, like how she shouldn’t have spent the money on p
lane tickets, about how she should push for more substantial work. How she shouldn’t have signed a one-year agreement. Same script she’d been listening to—and would continue hearing until she returned to Mitchum, Baker.

  She would return, though, and next Christmas, she’d be video calling home, too.

  “Hey! I almost forgot! Guess who is presenting at the Association of Trial Lawyers midwinter meeting?”

  Rose clapped her hands. “Joseph, that’s wonderful! Congratulations. Where is the meeting?”

  “Miami.”

  “No way! That’s where I’m presenting my paper on odontoid synchondrosis fractures in toddlers. Wouldn’t it be a riot if we were there at the same time?”

  “You’re presenting a paper, too?” Kevin said. “I told you all that work would pay off.”

  Stella edged away from the conversation. They would be talking about papers and Florida for a while, so no one would notice if she wasn’t participating. She looked around her living room. There was a tree in the center, lit with tiny white lights and plastic decorations. Stella thought it odd until she realized Agnes must had purchased decorations with Toffee in mind. She found a box of vintage decorations tucked away in the attic along with a note signed by Larry and Vivien. Every item was another piece in the Dame Agnes Moreland story.

  Stella hadn’t told anyone, but she’d begun writing Agnes’s story using the information in Agnes’s letters and journals. Her parents didn’t understand the fascination. Every time she tried to tell them, her father would wave off the topic. And Linus...

  Without meaning to, she sighed. Linus would encourage her. Like he always did. There was no reason not to tell him. No reason to tell him, either. They didn’t have to share everything because they shared a bed.

  The best part of her week, the nights with Linus. Took all her restraint not to invite him to stay every night. She was determined to keep her promise and keep things between them casual. The guilt over Victoria was still there; Stella saw it in the shadow that crossed his face whenever he didn’t think she was looking. He feared hurting her, and so she worked extra hard to make sure he knew that wouldn’t happen. That she didn’t expect anything from him beyond what they had.