“Have you looked at tomorrow’s races?” a middle-aged man asked her.
“I’m saving most of my money for Paprika’s Tuft,” she said, mentioning Norma’s thoroughbred. “But there are a couple others that look promising.”
“Show me.” The man had his program and a pencil in hand.
Saint excused himself to the bar and was returning with a fresh drink when he ran into Kyle, the son of their host that he’d told Fliss about. Kyle was newly divorced and a little drunker than was wise.
“So that’s her, the one who got you in trouble with Dad and the rest of the board?” Kyle snickered, his attention twisted to where Fliss still had her head together with the older man. “I see the attraction. Nice.” His hand came up to his chest, cupping imaginary breasts.
“That’s your one shot, Kyle. Leave it there, and I’ll forget we had this conversation.” It was a lie. Saint would never forget. He wanted to blacken both his eyes.
“She’s a housemaid. You’re not serious about her,” Kyle scoffed. “Let me know when you’re done with her, though.”
“We’re getting married.” Saint squared himself against the man, planting his feet. “She’s going to be the mother of my child.” He blindly reached to the table beside him to set down his drink.
He missed. The smash of glass on the stones silenced the din of conversation, but Saint didn’t look anywhere but at Kyle’s disbelieving smirk.
“Swallow what you just said, or I’ll shove those words back down your throat for you,” Saint warned.
“She’s pregnant?” Kyle guffawed into the silence. “Man, I gave you a lot more credit than you deserved.”
The heel of Saint’s palm hit the middle of Kyle’s chest before he realized that he was reacting. It was a shove, not a strike, but it was strong enough to send Kyle stumbling backward. His arms flailed as he hit the edge of the pool, then he was plummeting backward into it. The splash washed across nearby shoes, making everyone gasp and step back.
“Saint!” His mother’s voice cut through the murmur of shock.
Kyle was slapping at the water, clumsily swimming to the edge, swearing a blue streak.
Saint resisted the urge to stand on the man’s head. He looked for Fliss and found her staring at him with the same appalled shock as everyone else.
All heads turned to her now, making her the center of attention as everyone reevaluated her dress, which was three long layers of pleated ruffles from a single shoulder strap, disguising her thickening waistline.
“She does bet on the right horse, doesn’t she?” an amused voice gurgled.
“Shut up,” Saint said in the direction of the voice.
Fliss pivoted on one sandal and walked into the house.
“Fliss!” Saint caught up to her in the music room.
Fliss was so furious she couldn’t even look at him. “I need the ladies’ room.”
“You’re not locking yourself in a bathroom,” he said through his teeth, looming closer.
“I will use the loo when I need one!” She paused long enough to glare a warning at him. “Take away every other bloody right I have, but not that one.”
Heads swiveled in their direction, the level of acute curiosity sizzling on the air like electricity building for a lightning strike.
“It’s this way,” he said tightly and directed her through an archway and into a short corridor.
Tempted as she was to crawl out the window, she flushed and washed her hands and came out a few minutes later.
Saint was leaning on the wall, arms folded, expression grim. He straightened. “The car is waiting outside.”
“Oh, are we leaving?” she asked with facetious surprise.
“You want to stay?” He held her simmering gaze without flinching.
“Does it matter what I want?” She stalked ahead of him to the door.
He waited until they were in the back of the car to say belligerently, “I didn’t like what he said.”
“I didn’t like what you said. Can I push you in the pool?”
“Will it get us over this spat as quickly as possible?”
“Is that what this is? Tell me I’m overreacting, Saint. I dare you.”
He waited a beat, then spoke in an ultra-calm voice that was so condescending, she wanted to hit him. “The news was going to come out eventually.”
“I asked you for one thing.” Fliss’s voice shook despite her best efforts to keep it level. She removed her necklace and earrings and dropped them into the cup holder that was closest to him in the console between them. For good measure, she toed off her shoes and pushed them toward him with her foot.
“Really? You’re going to go barefoot to prove a point? It was his disrespect toward you that got under my skin.” Saint was speaking through his teeth again. “Now they know where you stand in my estimation.”
“Do they?” she cried. “You have no idea how hard this is for me, do you? That I have to use your money to pretend I belong here when I absolutely do not and everyone knows it? They see straight through me, but I soldier on, pretending for your sake that I can’t tell they can barely bring themselves to speak to me. I’m trying not to embarrass you. And I keep telling myself that it’s okay that you don’t know how hard this all is because you can’t know. You’ve never been in this situation. So I accept your ignorance.”
He opened his mouth, and she held up a finger.
“It’s the part where you don’t care how hard this is for me—and just went ahead and made it harder—that I can’t forgive. Yes, I know exactly where I stand in your estimation, Saint. Guess where you stand in mine?”
