Today's Reading
CHAPTER ONE
Forty-eight months and seventeen days away from Bellehaven Bay should have cured Leo of his infatuation with Miss Kitty Beckett—the beautiful, talented heiress who considered him her nemesis. Leo's head for numbers meant he grasped the staggering improbability of a match between Kitty and him with brutal clarity, so he'd done what any logical man in his position would do. He'd set about ridding himself of his inconvenient feelings, using the normally prescribed methods.
Working grueling hours at his new architectural practice.
Flirting with other pretty young women.
Drinking copious amounts of brandy.
Unfortunately, none of those remedies had made him forget the devilish dimple in Kitty's cheek or the irrepressible gleam in her eyes. Hell, Leo could scarcely go an hour without being haunted by memories of them sparring in his grandfather's office and reluctantly declaring a truce as they shared a sandwich on the beach.
It didn't matter that he was a far different man than he'd been back then. More confident, more worldly, more jaded. The truth was that he was still, one hundred percent, smitten with Miss Kitty Beckett.
And she was quite oblivious to the fact.
Now he was getting his first glimpse of her in four years, and he drank in the sight like parched earth soaking up a drought-ending rain. She stood in Lady Rufflebum's opulent ballroom chatting with her close friend, the Duchess of Hawking, seemingly unaware of the moonstruck expressions of the young bucks orbiting her. Kitty was the sun, and they were mere mortals content to bask in her warmth. To admire her from afar.
It wasn't difficult to see why. Her gold-spun hair glistened in the candlelight; her incandescent smile banished the shadows. Her beauty had, no doubt, brought many a man to his knees, and Leo supposed he was no exception. But what had captivated him, making it impossible for him to move on, was the way she challenged everything he thought he knew. About architecture, competition, and the fairer sex.
Years ago, when they'd both worked as apprentices in his grandfather's shop, Leo would squint at his straightedge and pretend to take measurements while stealing glances at Kitty as she drew at the desk across from him. He could still picture the sure, graceful sweeps of her hand. The nimble, steady movements of her fingers. The fire that sparked in her eyes as she transformed a blank page in her sketchbook into a design so lifelike, so inspired, so ingenious that it took his breath away.
Naturally, when she'd held up her creation and asked for his opinion, his cocky seventeen-year-old self had shrugged and said, "Congratulations. You've created the perfect dwelling for a gargoyle and his fairy bride."
Despite being two years his junior, Kitty wasn't cowed in the slightest. "If anyone is familiar with the preferences of gargoyles, I daresay it's you. Never fear, I shall include plenty of bedchambers for you and your gargoyle-fairy children. Let us hope they will resemble their mother, poor unfortunate soul."
He brushed off the barb as if he hadn't felt its sting. "There's nothing objectively wrong with your drawing. It's actually quite good," he admitted, making him the reigning king of understatement. "But in case you hadn't noticed, golden spires and stained-glass windows aren't exactly commonplace here in Bellehaven. A building like yours wouldn't fit in at all."
She'd tossed a curl over her shoulder. It was a habit of hers that he absolutely adored—mostly because it was a telltale sign that he'd touched a nerve. But, true to form, Kitty quickly regained her composure. "That's the difference between you and me," she said icily. "I am not content to blend in."
He'd scoffed, pretending that barb hadn't also met its mark. "No?" he countered. "You wouldn't walk through the doors of the Salty Mermaid wearing a ball gown."
"Wouldn't I?" She narrowed her eyes and held his gaze in a silent challenge. He didn't look away. Not when his cheeks grew hot. Not when desire punched him in the gut and traveled south.
After an interminable amount of time, she clucked her tongue and smiled serenely. "It's as though you don't know me at all, Leo Lockland."
The way she'd said his name—as if it were part curse, part incantation—delighted him. Of all her quirks, it was a favorite, second only to the hair flip.
...
