The Fiancée Fiasco (23 page)

Roseanne took hold of his arm. Her lashes sank. He felt strong and solid. Oh yes, it felt even better to touch him than to see him. "If I'd told you—darling—then it wouldn't have been much of a surprise, would it?"

"You could say that." She could feel his gaze bore into her. "I sure am surprised."

Surprised, but not pleased. That was clear. Oh, God. She'd been wrong about him mourning her departure. Instead he was irritated she'd returned. Dismay crashed through her.

"I'll, uh, explain it all in the car on the way home," she promised. Assuming he even wanted to listen.

"Home?" Win's voice broke. "Ahem. I don't know if that's such a good idea...sweetheart." His tone hardened at the end so it came out sounding more like a threat than an endearment.

Roseanne bit her lower lip. He'd gotten over her—if he'd ever been all that into her to begin with. She'd been a fool to fly down here. A fool! But okay. Fine. This was just a theory. And her going theory at the moment was that all her theories were wrong. She wasn't good at interpreting Win's private thoughts.

So now she had to hear it straight out. If Win didn't like her, if he wanted her to stay out of his life, then he'd have to tell her that specifically, from his own mouth.

She wasn't leaving without getting that straight answer. Did Winthrop Carruthers want to live without her?

"I—I'd really like to talk to you, Win. At home." Roseanne swallowed and added a tiny, wavery, "Please?"

To her surprise, the rigidity in his jaw relaxed. He looked oddly taken aback. "Well, all right. If you're asking, then I guess we can go."

All she'd had to do was ask? If Roseanne had known that...? Ah, she still would have been petrified, just as she was now, leaving the room with Win, who either ignored or didn't notice the good-hearted leers of his fellow engineers.

But once in the elevator descending to the parking garage, he disengaged from her arm. With a wary smile, he positioned himself across the cab from her. "Okay, then, you want to tell me what this is all about?"

She couldn't fault his suspicion. She hadn't exactly set a track record for selfless behavior.

"We'll talk about it when we get to the house," Roseanne told him as the elevator doors opened. She preceded him out of the cab.

Win easily caught up to her long-legged strides across the garage toward his reserved parking spot. "Why do I have the feeling you got a good reason to wait?"

Roseanne gave a nervous laugh as he opened the car door for her. "You're right on the money, as usual." She flicked a glance up at him as she got into the car. "So just take me home, okay?"

He hesitated, a strange expression crossing his face before he closed the car door.

Home, Roseanne had said. 'Home' was exactly what it felt like, too, when Win took the familiar freeway off-ramp leading to his house. It wasn't the rangy wood structure, however, that made it feel like home. Roseanne was pretty sure a mud hut in Katmandu would feel the same, so long as she was sharing it with Win.

"You didn't bring any luggage," he remarked as they walked up the front porch to the door.

Roseanne almost tripped. He was right. She had no luggage. She'd been in such an all-fired rush to get here she hadn't thought to pack a bag.

Good heavens. She couldn't admit that. Not yet. "Uh...I'm not staying long," she hastily improvised.

He paused a beat. "Oh."

Roseanne anxiously studied his face, but he wasn't showing a thing, whether her short stay relieved or disappointed him.

Win opened the door, reached around to flip on the lights, then let Roseanne precede him inside. The house looked exactly the same as when she'd left. Maybe too much the same, as if not much time had been spent there.

"Have you been working a lot of nights?" Safely inside the living room, Roseanne turned to watch Win shrug out of his white denim jacket.

"I suppose." He frowned, coming forward. "The equipment has been giving us a lot of trouble."

"I saw." Roseanne raised her eyebrows. "That machine looked like it bit you back at the lab. What's happening? You lose your magic touch?"

His frown deepened. "That was just a figment of Boyd's imagination."

Roseanne shrugged. "It couldn't be Boyd's imagination that the wheel on my office chair still works like a charm."

He sent her an odd look. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely." Was this a way to get into the discussion? Roseanne had no idea. She was so nervous her teeth were chattering.

"Anyway, we're home now," Win declared, spreading his arms. The odd look on his face morphed back into suspicion. "You ready to tell me now why you've come?"

Yes, no—of course not! To ask a man if he wanted a serious relationship? She would never be ready. "I—um... Did you hear I made partner?"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Roseanne could have shot herself. What did her partnership have to do with anything? Clearly, she was too damn cowardly to get to her own point.

Win lowered his arms. "Yeah, I heard. Read about it, actually, in the Daily Seattle."

Win had taken to reading the Daily Seattle? Filing that away, Roseanne chattered on, not sure exactly where she was headed, except not toward the real point. "Now, that's the kind of thing I'm concerned about: the newspaper."

"You're concerned about the newspaper?"

"Announcements, for example. You have no idea how much trouble I had convincing the reporter who wrote the piece on my partnership not to put down I'm engaged to you. Seems the eager beaver did some cross-checking and found out about the engagement down here. Called me for confirmation."

"Ah." With a smile, Win turned and sank onto the sofa. "Did you deny it?"

"Of course not." Roseanne was offended. "I wouldn't embarrass you that way. I simply persuaded him to delay announcing it in my hometown. But you see the problem."

He raised a negligent brow. "I do?"

Roseanne helped herself to one of the easy chairs. "It would be...awkward if our pretend engagement became known in my circles."

A hint of amusement lit behind his eyes. "Any more awkward than news of our engagement was in my circles?"

Propping her elbows on the arms of the chair, Roseanne laced her fingers together. "For you it was convenient."

"The hell it was."

Ignoring this, Roseanne plowed forward. "For me it would be quite the opposite. Imagine the partners wanting to know how and when this engagement occurred. How my, er, romantic activities might have led to that retainer agreement. It could get dicey."

Win's amusement was growing. "I see what you mean. We'd better quick beef up that courtship story you told Boyd. Make sure it looks like we knew each other long before you got that retainer agreement. Not so much of a connection between the two. In fact, maybe I should come up to Seattle altogether. Spend some time with you, meet your friends and family." He laughed softly. "Make wedding arrangements. I assume you'd want the ceremony up there, right?"

He was joking, dammit, about something she wanted to know for real. "Win—"

"I'm still waitin' for you to get to the point, honey."

He was right: she hadn't. Roseanne put a hand to her forehead.

With a sigh, Win lumbered to his feet. "In the hopes that you're workin' up to it, I'm gonna make some coffee."

"Win—" Hopping to her feet, Roseanne tripped after him to the kitchen. "This wouldn't take me so long if—if—" She was unsure how to blame Win for her own lack of eloquence.

"Oh, but I'm all ears, honey." He opened a cabinet to find the coffee tin.

Roseanne watched as he pried off the lid. She knew what she ought to do, what she should have done already in the car on the way home: tell him her feelings straight out. But she simply couldn't, not without getting some hint of his.

In desperation, she ran a test, to gauge her opponent's reaction. "Okay, the reason I'm here should be obvious," she claimed, utterly disingenuous. "We have to end the engagement."

His long fingers halted in the act of dumping ground coffee into the filter. Then they proceeded with their action, splashing a mound of brown dust into the center of the white filter. "You flew three thousand miles just to tell me that?"

No, I flew three thousand miles to see if you actually wanted the opposite
. Blinking, Roseanne stared at the ground coffee. Apparently, he didn't. Apparently, the thought of actually marrying Roseanne, or anything close to it, hadn't crossed his mind. At least, her evidence so far pointed strongly in that direction.

A sinking sensation lowered through her. Putting her hand back to her forehead, she rubbed. "I guess...I thought it was important to explain in person. Plus there are a lot of details we need to work out." For example, the detail of actually doing what she'd come down her to do: tell Win her honest feelings. That seemed a vain endeavor at the moment, however.

Win shoved the filter basket into the coffee maker. "There's only one detail as far as I'm concerned. Once that's taken care of, I'll drive you out to an airport hotel."

Roseanne bit her lip as a dangerous tightness gripped her throat. He wouldn't even let her stay here overnight? "Okay. Fine with me." She cleared a betraying hoarseness from her throat. "Um, what detail?"

He flipped the switch for the coffee and then turned to face her. "If we're calling off this engagement, Miz Archer, then it would be proper for you to return my ring."

Roseanne blinked. "Your ring?" Dimly she recalled the two carats of brilliance.

Two carats...whose weight she suddenly felt on her hand.

Gasping, she looked down. Sure enough, that huge diamond ring was still sitting on her own idiot left ring finger.

"Oh, my God!" She'd been wearing it all this time, ever since the dinner at his parents' house. She'd worn it without even seeing it, without even feeling its significant weight on her finger.

How could she have done so? The thing was half the size of a barn, for Pete's sake. "I'm so sorry, Win. You're not going to believe this, but I had no idea—" Cutting herself off, she struggled to remove the ring. How could she convince him of any excuse so hare-brained?

But he seemed to believe her. His brow furrowed. "You didn't notice you were wearing it?"

"I know it sounds incredible." She dumped the ring into his hand.

"No, wait. Let me get this straight." He stared down at the ring. "I'd assumed you kept the ring in order to help carry out the masquerade."

"Brain death. I didn't even remember I had it on when I flew home."

His eyes rose slowly to meet hers. "That's a pretty big slip-up...especially for you."

"I know. It's hard to swallow, particularly given the size of that rock." Roseanne felt her face turning red. She'd been unable to admit her true feelings here, but that damn ring was going to do it for her.

"You're right." Win weighed the ring in his hand and then stuffed it into his front jeans pocket. "It is hard to swallow. A ring like this, it should have reminded you of everything you've always wanted to avoid: settling down, trappings of dependence, all that."

"Okay, okay. You've made your point." At least, he was circling close to it. Dangerously close. It was odd how badly Roseanne did not want Win to find out what she'd flown down especially to tell him.

"Have I?" Win cocked his head. "What point is that?"

"That— That—"

"That you're not being entirely honest with me about why you came down here?" Win lightly touched his pocket with one finger and raised a brow. "Or maybe you haven't been honest with yourself."

Roseanne choked. "I, um..."

"Maybe I could help you." Win's voice went deep.

"Um." She stood there, her brain going the rest of the way to dead as Win slowly walked toward her.

He put a hand under her chin. "Is this why you came?" he asked softly. "Was it this?"

Their lips met gently, with familiarity. A sweet warmth spread through her, making her sway against him. Her arms went around his neck.

Shifting his lips, Win deepened the kiss. The warmth turned to a blaze. Roseanne slipped down, down, into a place where nothing existed but this moment, this man, this kiss.

She sighed when he finally let her go. "Yes," she murmured low. "That was definitely worth the plane trip."

Win chuckled softly. "Surely you could find someone closer to home to kiss you, Roz."

Her lashes lowered while her heart picked up speed. "Not the way you do, Win."

"Is that so?" He laughed again, but dryly this time, without humor. "So I come in handy for something, do I?"

It was the first hint of vulnerability in him Roseanne had seen yet. With her heart picking up speed, she gathered her withered courage. "Oh, but you come in handy for a number of things," she admitted huskily.

"Same as most men, I s'pose." Releasing her, Win smiled with one side of his mouth. "Sex, children, and gettin' rid of spiders."

Roseanne couldn't believe he remembered that. "Yes, well..." She laughed a little breathlessly. If she were going to do this, now was the time. "The list holds good for you, same as most men—only, uh, expanded somewhat." Expanded tremendously, but she couldn't get such words out of her mouth.

He tilted his head. "Meaning?"

Roseanne cleared her throat. "Meaning...okay, for starters, you've taught me the subject of sex covers a lot of territory that isn't found in a bedroom." Ah, the sweetness of simply sitting in the same car with him. The sheer joy of his familiar presence.

He raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh." His tone was bland, but his regard was intense. He was interested. "Go on. How about the next item on the list. What about children?"

"Let's save children for last." Roseanne took a step back, trying to clear her mind with some physical distance. "Now, regarding spiders. That covers the way you take care of a woman: protecting her from your parents, buying her the right kind of dress, making her dinner. See what I mean?"

"Maybe," he spoke slowly. "And what about children?"

"I'm getting to that." If she could only figure out how. It was too cramped in the kitchen. Flustered, Roseanne swiveled and stalked out into the dining area.