President Darcy

“Aye, captain, whatever you say, captain.” Lydia’s eye roll was practically audible.

“Just please keep this quiet. Don’t start any rumors. It’s important for a lot of reasons.”

Lydia sighed heavily. “How long can you keep it hidden anyway with those pictures out there?”

“There’s nothing to hide. We’re friends. I’m visiting Pemberley with my aunt and uncle. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

“Yeah, the media will buy that.” Lydia’s tone suggested that she did understand sarcasm. She hung up before Elizabeth could get in another plea.

***

Despite her hunger, Elizabeth only ate part of her dinner. The food was delicious: salmon on a bed of risotto with a red bell pepper sauce. However, she was unsettled by her conversation with Lydia and all too aware of Will’s eyes on her, dark and intent. They had apologized to each other, but what happened next?

In the foyer, he had appeared quite interested in pursuing some sort of relationship, although she wondered if he could actually get past all the accusations she had hurled at him. He was far more relaxed and friendlier—and he hadn’t blinked at making the Gardiners’ acquaintance. Had he toned down the arrogance because he still harbored a passion for her? And if he did, was it what Elizabeth wanted?

As a small dinner party, they ate in the “breakfast nook” off the kitchen rather than the formal dining room, which could have accommodated a small village. Self-conscious, Elizabeth spoke little during the meal, and the conversation was carried mainly by the Gardiners, Fitz, and Bing. Caroline made sneering comments about other women’s fashion choices; Elizabeth ignored the implications. Will answered direct questions but avoided getting drawn into any discussions. The conversation mostly centered around the weather and what to do in the Hamptons, yet the atmosphere was decidedly strained.

Dessert was a mouthwatering mocha cheesecake, but Elizabeth declined a piece as her stomach was a churning mess by then.

After dinner, everyone gathered for drinks in the living room. With the French doors open, they could hear the distant sounds of the waves on the beach. A gentle breeze brought a faint scent of salt water into the room. Elizabeth sunk gratefully into a white sofa, unable to remain tense in such an environment.

Will had loosened up after a few drinks. Although his eyes still lingered on her, he was chattier with everyone. When foreign travel became a topic of conversation, Fitz asked Elizabeth about her work in Africa. To her shock, Will rattled off a list of every place she’d been posted during her tenure with the organization.

“How did you know all that?” she asked.

He lowered his eyebrows mysteriously. “I have a finely tuned intelligence apparatus at my disposal.”

“And Google,” Fitz chimed in.

Will chuckled. “Busted!”

Elizabeth joined in the laughter, but she wondered: How much time had he spent on Google? All that information could hardly be found in one place. “I don’t know whether to be creeped out or flattered,” she said with a grin.

“I would prefer flattered,” Will said, a corner of his mouth quirking upward.

“Creepy isn’t the vibe I was hoping for.”

Fitz nodded knowingly. “Especially not in the eyes of the woman he—” Will coughed loudly. “—Not in the eyes of a pretty woman,” Fitz finished.

What had Fitz been planning to say? Elizabeth wondered even as she grinned at Fitz to acknowledge the compliment.

Will leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “It’s quite impressive.” His words were addressed to Fitz, but his eyes were on Elizabeth. “Most field officers have racked up only half the amount of field time by that point in their career.”

“How do you know that?” Elizabeth blurted out. If the Red Cross kept such statistics, they certainly didn’t publish them.

“Um…” Will’s gaze fell to the glass in his hand. “I did a little research.”

“Fitz,” Elizabeth asked with a smile, “would now be a good time to be creeped out?”

Everybody laughed.

Before long, Bing announced that he was calling it a night, which prompted a wave of similar proclamations from most of the other guests. Elizabeth considered staying downstairs so she could have a frank talk with Will, but she shuddered at the thought of the knowing looks she’d receive. She didn’t want anyone to believe she was taking advantage of the situation. Lydia’s insinuations had reminded Elizabeth that it was best to put some distance between herself and Will. But a voice at the back of her head asked if she was avoiding the conversation.

When she stood to follow the Gardiners toward the stairs, Will’s face seemed to darken. But by the time Elizabeth reached her room, she had convinced herself it was simply her imagination.

***

The guest room Elizabeth had picked had a nautical theme as well as white beadboard wainscoting, dark blue linens, and dormer windows. Everything was of the highest quality, but it didn’t feel like part of a billionaire’s home. The room itself was comfortable, almost cozy, and not at all pretentious. So far she’d seen no gold-plated faucets or throne-like chairs. But as she climbed into the four-poster bed, she wondered if she’d ever before slept on sheets with such a high thread count.