More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
It was difficult to ascertain his age—he appeared to be on the early side of his thirties, but there was an air of hard-bitten worldliness about him, a sense that he had seen enough of life to cease being surprised by anything. He had heavy, well-cut hair, black as midnight, and a fair complexion with dark brows that stood out in striking contrast. He was as handsome as Lucifer, his features straight and defined, the mouth brooding. But he looked like a man who perhaps took everything—including himself—a bit too seriously. Poppy felt herself flush as she stared into a pair of remarkable
...more
He was watching her as if puzzling what to make of her.
Poppy stiffened. “It’s a reputable hotel,” she said. “I have nothing to fear.” “You might.” A flirtatious glint had entered his eye. “You could be kissed by a stranger.”
Harry Rutledge . . . the mysterious and reclusive owner of the hotel. Who was nothing at all as she had imagined him to be.
And she went down the hallway with the housemaid . . . never suspecting that the course of her entire life had just changed.
Usually Jay Harry Rutledge was given something before it ever occurred to him to want it.
The only time Poppy had ever seen her ruffled was when she was in the company of Leo, the Hathaways’ brother, whose sarcastic wit seemed to annoy Miss Marks beyond endurance.
So when Jake was discreetly told by a housemaid that a young woman had been with Rutledge in the curiosities room, he knew something significant had occurred.
Holding his gaze, Poppy grinned. Despite his annoyance at the situation and his lack of control over it, Harry couldn’t help smiling back.
He wanted to sweep her away somewhere, that very minute, and have her all to himself.
He didn’t want to be bothered with the logistics of capturing an unruly macaque. He wanted to be alone with Poppy Hathaway.
She was worth anything, he thought, even giving up the last remnants of his soul.
Not because she feared Harry Rutledge. Because she liked him.
She saw Amelia and Cam exchange a glance she could not interpret. The understanding between the pair was so absolute, it seemed they could read each other’s thoughts.
It was unfair that the people who longed for love the most, searched the hardest for it, found it so elusive.
“Look how dignified and polite they all are,” Leo said, observing the crowd. “I can’t stay long. Someone might influence me.”
He was dazzling in the elegant clothes, his heavy dark hair brushed back in disciplined layers. But his eyes were underpinned by the ever-present hint of shadows. Windows to a restless soul. He didn’t sleep enough, she thought, and wondered if anyone ever dared mention it to him.
“Why?” she asked faintly, without thinking. “Why what?” “Why did you ask me to dance?” Harry hesitated as if torn between the necessity of tact and the inclination toward honesty. He settled on the latter. “Because I wanted to hold you.”
“Because you’re interesting and beautiful. Because saying your name makes me smile. Most of all because this may be my only hope of ever having hotchpotch.”
“You should never cry over a man,” he said against her cheek.
Poppy began to smile, when a few minutes earlier she had thought she would never smile again.
“No, you won’t,” Leo replied. “I’m an expert on humiliation, and if it were fatal, I’d have died a dozen times by now.”
“Would you say that you’re a good man, Harry?” He had to think about that. “No,” he finally said. “In the fairy tale you mentioned last night, I would probably be the villain. But it’s possible the villain would treat you far better than the prince would have.”
The fact that such a despicable human being could be so handsome was proof that the universe was vastly unfair, or at least very badly organized.
She found something surprising in the embrace, a sense of security. They fit nicely together, softness and hardness, pliancy and tension.
In the meantime, Harry stole glances of her whenever he could, his lovely and distant wife . . . and he drank in the smiles she gave to other people.
Dear God, what had happened to him? He had never wanted to feel this way about anyone, never even imagined it possible.

