Rogue Devil (The Rourkes #11) - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,1
on the sofa. My throat tightens, taking in their loving family. I can’t help but feel like an outsider. It used to be just me and Sara against the world.
I stand. “I’ll see you later.”
Sara looks up. “Will you be returning to the ball? You look so pretty in that gown. The color is such a nice contrast with your hair and really brings out your eyes.” Sara and I look similar, blond hair and green eyes, except I recently dyed my hair red.
“Thanks.” I glance down at the green empire-waist gown my sister-in-law had made for me. It’s a Regency-themed ball, so we all had to go in proper Regency-era attire. “I only went to the ball because Queen Anna wanted me there. I don’t enjoy dancing, and the dances they were doing looked complicated.” I wave my hand through the air like a snake. “Lines of dancers weaving in and out of each other, turning this way and that.”
Sara smiles. “It sounds fun. I hope we do another Christmas ball next year. Then we can take Henry.” Adrian felt it was too soon for Henry to be exposed to so many germs.
“I’ll make sure of it,” Adrian says, kissing her temple.
They gaze into each other’s eyes, the love between them palpable.
“Bye,” I mumble and see myself out, quietly shutting the door behind me.
I head downstairs on heavy limbs to my guest room on the second floor. I plan to change and get back to studying for the MCAT. That’s the admissions test for medical school that I’m taking this spring. From now on, work will be my focus. Even friends with benefits is more than I can handle. Obviously, I’m terrible at relationships. I didn’t even know I was in one until he proposed. From here on out, I’m steering clear of relationships of any kind so no one gets hurt.
It’s afternoon on Christmas Day, and I’m curled up in a plush chair in my room, reading the latest in The New England Journal of Medicine on my laptop. Except for the Christmas morning gift-giving festivities, I’ve mostly stayed in my room, reading medical journals and studying. Usually, reading is a relaxing break for me, but today I’m restless.
I look over at my little troll doll, Kablooey, with his blue explosion of hair, perched on the end table. I picked him up at a flea market years ago, and he travels with me everywhere for good luck. “I’m thinking cookie time, how about you?”
His wide smile remains in place.
Looks like a yes to me.
I set my laptop aside, stand, and stretch before making my way downstairs to the kitchen, where a couple of servants are cleaning up from brunch. “Hi, Eileen, do you still have those cookie cutters in the shape of music notes?”
Eileen, a middle-aged woman with her hair in a brown bob, smiles. “Sure do, Miss Chloe. Would you like some for Christmas dessert? I’ll whip up a batch right now.”
“Would it be okay if I made them?” I’ve done it before while visiting, so it’s not that unusual a request.
She waves me forward. “Of course. Just be done by three because that’s when Chef comes back to start preparations for dinner.”
I thank her and get to work. I could make sugar cookies in my sleep. These will be a friendly peace offering to musically inclined Michael.
Once I finish, I borrow one of the old Renaults the servants drive around the island and head down the hill to Michael’s cottage. His car isn’t in the driveway. I text him to ask where he is, but there’s no reply. I call and it goes to voicemail. I’m not sure if he’s blocked my number or if he turned his phone off. The sun’s just starting to set, so I need to work quickly before I lose the light.
Determined to see this through, I retrieve the large plastic container of cookies from where I carefully wedged it on the floor of the passenger seat and make my way to the music room on the side of the cottage. He goes in there every day, and I happen to know the window doesn’t latch properly. It’s broken and he never got around to getting a new one installed. I wiggle the metal frame and push it up as far as I can, which is not a lot. I’m short and need a little height to get it open the rest of the way. I was planning to set the