As You Wish (The Summerhouse 3)

Elise grimaced. “I was perfect because that’s what I thought it took to make a man love me.”

“Been there, done that,” Kathy said. “With every diet I hoped that—No. This is your story. Tell us about you and Kent, then we want details about you and the beautiful Alejandro.”

“We were and are nothing but friends. That’s all.” Elise’s voice softened. “It never went past that. On that last night, I tried, but he said no.” Her eyes seemed to fade as though in a dream.

“Does Alejandro have dark eyes?” Kathy asked.

Elise came back to the present. “Like a stallion at midnight.”

“And you never went to bed with him?” Kathy asked.

“I was never unfaithful to Kent. Not so much as a kiss. But there was one night with Alejandro when I was tempted to the point where I nearly broke. Moonlight and margaritas. We’d had an argument and he was leaving the country. I had some decisions to make and...” She looked at the women. “I guess I better start at the beginning.”

“Yes, you should,” Olivia said and the women settled back to listen.

Chapter Seven

Elise had on what looked like a 1950s nightie. Something out of a Sandra Dee movie. Physically, she didn’t have a lot on top but she knew her long, slim legs often sent men’s eyes into spirals. As usual, this morning, she was trying to entice her husband to actually look at her.

“The Becketts are a very important couple so cook something special, will you?” Kent said.

Elise leaned against the kitchen counter, her legs extended so they looked even longer. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a cook. Have you seen my keys?”

“Behind you.”

He turned. “Where?”

“There. In that red lacquer box.”

He picked them up. “No wonder I couldn’t find them. Why did you put them inside that thing?”

“It’s a Japanese tebako box and I would never think of putting car keys in it. It might damage the finish.”

“If you didn’t put them there, who did?” When she started to speak, he put up his hand. “It doesn’t matter. I have to go.”

“Wait! I was wondering if you like what I have on.” She twirled around. It was a very short garment, covering the upper half of her with yards of semitransparent pale pink silk, and leaving the bottom half of her bare.

“It’s cute. How much did it cost?”

Elise tried to not let her fallen spirit show. “Nothing. I’ve had it since before we were married. Part of my trousseau.”

“That’s good.” He stood there, staring at her, waiting for her to release him. “Out with it. I can tell that something’s on your mind.”

“I want to get a job.”

Instantly, there was laughter in his eyes. “Doing what? I understand that you’re bored, but really, what kind of job could you get?”

“I was thinking about an art gallery.”

“There aren’t any galleries near here—unless you count the local craft fair.”

“Maybe Dad could lend me the money to open one.”

Kent gave a snort of laughter. He was a handsome man, tall, with dark blond hair and blue eyes. He looked best in tennis whites, with a sweater tied around his shoulders. He was the epitome of good health and ancestors who went back to English aristocracy. Whereas Elise’s family had had money for generations, it was Kent’s that brought in the illustrious lineage.

“Sorry, babe, but you know your dad. He’s not going to do anything that won’t make a ten-times profit. Why don’t you take some classes?”