“All I’ve ever asked is that you try.”
“And I will. For you. If you can learn to be just a little patient.”
Oh God, I wanted to believe him. More than anything in the world. Except…“These are both pretty nonspecific and difficult-to-measure goals,” I whispered.
“Yes, well….” His mouth curled up a little—that suggestion of whimsy I loved so much. “My efforts at a quantitatively optimized approach to risk management in human relations did not meet with your approval.”
“You’ll really try it my way?”
“You’ve already left me once. What do I have to lose?”
I curled my fingers into his jumper. “Can I have some time to think?”
“Of course. You know where to find me and how to contact me.”
“Or”—I peeped up at him—“you could stay here? Just for a day or two.”
“Is that what you want?”
It seemed, suddenly, an outrageous request to make of a man like Caspian Hart: forget your insanely demanding job and the multibillions for which you’re responsible and just chill out in Scotland while I faff about with my feelings. “I know you don’t have much time—”
“My time is Bellerose’s problem. I’ll stay.”
“Wow, he’s going to extra hate me.”
“He’s not what’s important to me right now.” His hold on me tightened and I nuzzled into…well, I guess it was his armpit, which shouldn’t have been especially sexy or romantic, but it was delicious in there. This warm, Caspian-scented space for me to be in.
“You might have to meet my family.”
“I already have, very briefly. I don’t think your mother was entirely impressed with me.”
“Who? Mum?” I couldn’t picture it. “Are you sure?”
“Well, unless you have a small, glaring woman with purple hair who lives in your house with your father but isn’t your mother.”
Oh. “Um, actually that’s Rabbie and Hazel. And we live in their house.”
“You and your mother?”
“Yep. Hazel is Mum’s girlfriend. And Rabbie is Hazel’s husband. And my dad is…somewhere else.”
“You know,” he said after a moment or two, “I’m beginning to realize how much I still have to learn about you.”
I gave an unconvincing, bleaty laugh. “Who me? No. Never. Open book.”
“Trust goes both ways, Arden.”
I couldn’t think of a good answer to that. Probably because there wasn’t one on account of him being, y’know, 100 percent right.
Both what he said.
And the fact that it was terrifying.
And for some reason, Caspian Hart was willing to do this for me.
I gazed up at him, blinking away tears, and tried to smile. “Next time, I’ll stick to pokey.”
Chapter 27
