"Cake?"
"A friend of mine is married to one of the best pastry chefs in the city. Her name is Althea..."
Her eyes widened. "Althea Drummond."
"She's now Althea McDermott," he said with a smile. "Her husband and I are members of the same club. She thought we might love the concoction of chocolate and raspberry."
"I'm already salivating."
"Shall we?"
"Yes." She crossed the room to join him, and they made their way out.
The library itself was a charming room, big enough to hold the many titles she was itching to explore. It had a rolling ladder to gain access to the uppermost shelves. There was also a small desk and chair as well as a desktop computer. A sofa was tucked into a little curved space, with cushions packed tidily against each other.
He led the way through a glass door to an enclosed patio. To her delighted surprise, there was a fire blazing in the hearth. A table and four chairs were in the middle of the room.
"Have a seat. I'll be right back."
"I should help."
"No." He shook his head with a smile. "Just relax."
It was proving difficult to do in his overwhelming presence. He was a man, and she was a woman who had been without a man for more than three years. And he was a very handsome man and a magnetic one.
"Not a real marriage," she muttered to herself as she sat at the table. Very soon she was caught up in the spectacular scenery. The scent of the meal he brought out had her mouth watering. Waving her back down when she started to get up, he laid the plates and the utensils down before popping the cork on the champagne.
She found herself laughing when he used his tongue to lick up the froth. Grinning at her, he poured generous amounts into the two glasses and handed one to her.
"What shall we toast to?"
He lifted a brow as he took his seat. "To solutions to problems, of course, and us tying the knot."
"Sounds good." She clinked her glass against his and sat back to dig into the food. "Your housekeeper is very good."
"She is," he agreed.
"How long has she worked for you?"
"Three years." He settled back to sip his champagne. "I started on this place five years ago, on and off when I was in town. I decided I wanted my own space, much to my mother's disapproval." He smiled slightly. "She wanted me to stay home. There was enough space, and I had my own suite."
"Was that where you grew up?"
"Yes. It's a few miles away from here. Palace Place. Very exclusive, very posh neighborhood." He shook his head contemplatively. "I decided I wanted a change."
"Does she still live there?"
He shook his head. "She couldn't bear to be there after my dad died. We sold the place, or rather the board did, just last year. She lives in one of the town houses we own, or the company owns."
"Has a doorman and concierge service. She actually likes it there and has friends that she hangs out with. They host book clubs and soirees." He laughed at her expression. "That's what they call it."
His smile faded. "After my dad died, nothing was ever the same again."
Picking up her glass, she took a sip and allowed the flavor to rest on her tongue before swallowing. She could not believe she was sitting across from a man who was now her husband and actually having a conversation. The night would not be the typical wedding night. When the meal was over, they would retire to their separate suites. But at least they were spending time getting to know each other.
The marriage might be over in a year, but at least she hoped they would remain friends.
"My dad turned out to be less than I thought he was," she found herself admitting. "After he was shot, I discovered his diaries." She smiled bitterly and had to drink to get the taste out of her mouth. "He was living a double life. Gambling and stealing." She forced her gaze to meet his. "I'm sure you know the whole truth of what went down that night."