but a blight on the family name. My grandmother would've set the dogs on you before she let your kind cross the threshold of Harper House."
"Okay, that's about enough." Before Roz could speak - and she had plenty to say - Harper was up and across the room. "You're leaving, and you're never coming through that door again."
"Don't you back-talk me, boy."
"I'm not eight anymore, and you're not welcome here. You think you can stand here and insult my mother? A woman with more class in one eyelash than you could cobble together out of every dried-up bone in your body? Now, I can show you the way out, or I can kick you out. Your choice."
"You're just like her."
"That's the first genuine thing you've said since you came in. This way,Cousin Rissy."
He took her arm and, though she tried to swat him away, led her out of the room.
There was a beat of silence, then Hayley's low whistle. "Go, Harper."
Chapter Twenty
UPSTAIRS IN THEsitting room, Mitch lifted Roz's feet into his lap, and began to rub. "Long day for you."
"Wasn't it just."
"You got in some mighty swings, Slugger."
"I did, but Harper sure did bat clean-up and knock it out of the park."
"I know I'm in love when my girl can talk in baseball analogies." He lifted her foot higher to kiss her ankle. "I'll take my share of the journals with me. I should be able to get a start on them tonight."
"You've had a long day yourself. After the wedding's soon enough." She tipped her head back, closed her eyes as his thumb pressed into her arch. "Besides, if you go, you'll stop rubbing my feet."
"I was hoping this would be a suitable bribe."
"You don't need a bribe. I was hoping you'd stay."
"It so happens I have my suit for the wedding out in the car."
Her eyes stayed closed; her lips curved. "I like a man who thinks ahead."
"I wasn't sure there'd be a place for a man in the house tonight. Wedding eve, female rituals."
"We started our rituals at the salon this morning, and we'll pick them up tomorrow. They're going to make a lovely family, aren't they?"
"They already do. I enjoyed watching those boys stand up to the old woman, and your elegantly executed shots. Followed by Harper's base-clearing run."
"We were all wonderfully rude, weren't we? Of course, she won't speak to you again. Won't help you with your book."
"I'm not worried about it. And - we'll call it postseason play - she's unlikely to be entertained by what I write about her."
"I will be. She knows. She knows who Amelia is, what happened to her. I suppose she always has. There's a possibility she destroyed any journals with a mention of her - a small one, as anything pertaining to Harper House is sacrosanct to her. But it's something we should be prepared for."
"We just need a few seeds. I can propagate from there."
She opened her eyes. "Aren't you clever? I know I'm in love when my guy can talk in gardening terms."
"You haven't seen anything yet. Rosalind, I'm seduced by your feet."
"My feet?"
"Crazy about them. I just never know . . ." Slowly he drew off one of her thick socks. "What I'll find. Ah." He brushed a finger over her toenails, painted pale shell pink, with just a hint of glitter. "Surprise, surprise."
"They're often one of my little secrets."
He lifted her feet, traced his lips down her arch. "I love secrets."
There was something powerful about pleasuring a strong woman, watching her, feeling her surrender to sensation. A tiny quiver, a quiet sigh was unspeakably erotic when you knew the woman yeilded to no one.
From attraction to passion, from passion to love. It was a journey he'd never planned to make again. Yet here he was. When he touched her, he knew she was the woman, the only woman he wanted to spend his life with. He wondered how he'd reached this point in his life without knowing, and needing, her scent, the sound of her voice, the fascinating textures of her skin.
When she rose up, locking her arms around him, fixing her mouth warmly on his, his heart nearly burst.
"I can see you in the dark," he told her. "I can hear you when you're miles away."
The small sound she made was pure emotion as she sank into him.
She held tight, tight a moment with her head on his shoulder, her heart knocking against his. How love could be so many different things