as he felt Sara tuck herself close to him again. He breathed, steady and slow, and her head settled onto his chest.
Though he wanted to curl his arm around her, it was too heavy to lift.
“Joaquin Weatherford,” she said, her voice barely penetrating the edges of his sleep. “I’m afraid I’m in love with you.”
Her whisper might have come from the dream about to snatch him away, but his heart stuttered, telling him that wasn’t so. He didn’t move, waiting for the phrase to jolt him with alarm, to galvanize him into movement, to send some joking response from his mouth so she’d know he didn’t believe a word she’d said.
Instead, pleasure poured through him and he rode the feeling into a deep, deep slumber.
“Thank you for coming with me,” Emmaline said to Sara, her hands around her latté cup while her gaze scanned the tables at the beachside café. “When I see Mr. Curry arrive—I’m supposed to recognize him by his white shirt, khaki pants, and the fact that he’s carrying today’s paper—I’ll pop up and we’ll find another table.”
“I’m happy to wait with you. It’s my day off,” Sara answered. And of course she’d been glad to have a real reason to leave the house early that morning. Joaquin had left her bed sometime in the night, and she was in no way eager to face him today.
For some foolish reason she’d told him she was in love with him.
Though she’d been certain he was sleeping, why had she risked the whisper?
Sara sighed. She knew why. Lying next to Joaquin, replete, she’d been willing to chance it because she’d wanted to say the words out loud, if only the one time. If only while he lay in that near-comatose state.
But now she worried he might somehow pull the memory from the dream banks of his sleep. Or that he’d read on her face the truth.
Emmaline tucked her dark hair behind her ears. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
Sara focused on her friend, ready to be distracted from her own unease. “Because you’re a step away from getting a job you need.”
“True. Funds are running very low, and my success with scratch-off lottery tickets isn’t keeping up with the cost of living.”
A lottery win was what had funded Emmaline’s tuition to the Continental Butler Academy. She’d been backpacking around Europe for a few years, scraping together travel money through au pair jobs and teaching English. When a providential gamble on the Irish Lotto had garnered her a modest windfall, she’d told Charlie and Sara she’d heeded an impulse and applied to the butler school. Free spirit Emmaline was big on impulse—and lucky hunch-heeding.
Sara reached across the table to pat her friend’s hand. “It’s going to be okay. You said you’re sure his sister liked you in her interview. That’s why she passed on your name to her brother.”
“Yes.” Emmaline blew out a breath. “Apparently he’s some genius tech guy who needs help picking out his suits and ties as well as tending to his household needs. Actually, she said what he really requires is a wife, and I said I could be all that without the inconvenience of a wedding or the embarrassment of getting naked.”
Sara’s brows shot high. “Embarrassment? I never heard you say you think sex is embarrassing.”
Her friend waved that away. “You know what I mean. Like when that guy with great potential you take home at midnight can’t bring it between the sheets and you wonder if it’s you. Then it’s embarrassing to look at your own reflection in the mirror the next morning.”
“Emmaline—”
“I’ve given up on sex altogether, actually. Because for all my good fortune when it comes to the lottery, I have terrible luck when it comes to men.” The other woman grimaced. “I’m nervous babbling. Tell me about you. What’s going on at Nueva Vida?”
Sara leaned back in her chair. “The potted plumeria by the front entrance is starting to bloom—the flowers smell wonderful. And I patched and re-painted one wall in the laundry room that the workmen dinged when they installed the dryer.”
Emmaline tilted her head. “You love the place.”
“Is it so obvious?”
Smiling, Emmaline nodded. “And what’s new with the handsome master of the house?”
“Oh. Well.” Sara stared down at her coffee. “He’s kind to his sister. His mother and he are coming to a new understanding.”
“You like and respect him.”
“Yes,” said Sara, latching on to that. “Like and respect.”
“Hmm.” Emmaline tapped her index finger against her chin. “Can I