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“That bad a kisser, huh?” Rebecca asked, her voice teasing.
“I’m not discussing him with you because, hey, he’s your brother. Do you really want to know?”
Rebecca wrinkled her nose. “Right. I don’t. But this has to bother you. You don’t just go around kissing guys for the fun of it.”
“Only because they’re not asking.” Jayne wasn’t about to admit the truth. The crush made it beyond difficult to think about David falling for some rich, connected, beautiful woman. Not that his going after someone who wasn’t rich, connected, or beautiful was any better. The more she got to know him, the more she liked him. The crush had been fueled by what she thought heshouldbe. The liking was based on who he actually was, and that was the problem.
“David’s great,” she said. “But so what? Are we going to get involved? Am I ‘the One’? You warned me yourself, he doesn’t do relationships.”
“Okay, but you’re wonderful. He could fall for you. You’re smart and funny and loving and pretty.”
“Not as pretty as you.”
Rebecca sighed. “So few are.”
“We both know the type David will marry. It’s not me, and I’m okay with that.” Mostly. “Besides, I’m trying to get away from your family. I’m relocating to another state to escape the stress of the Worden clan. Getting serious with David would make a real mess.”
“But if you like him…” Rebecca began.
“No, it’s not going to happen. This is nice. Fun. Nothing more.” She couldn’t let it be. For all her daydreams about the man, she understood reality. The rich really were different, and she was okay with that.
“And while we’re on the subject of men,” Jayne said deliberately. “How are things with Jonathan?”
Rebecca groaned, then rested her head on the back of the sofa. “Can you spell disaster?”
“What’s wrong with Jonathan?”
“He likes me.”
“The bastard.”
“You’re not taking me seriously.”
“I know. Part of my charm.”
Rebecca drew in a breath. “He likes me too much. I want a fling. He wants more.”
“You want to piss off Elizabeth.”
“That, too. He’s clingy and annoying. The sex is awful, but that’s more about me than him.” She slumped down into the corner of the sofa and folded her arms across her chest. “I miss Nigel.”
Which was the heart of the problem. “More or less than you did?”
“Less,” she admitted, “but not a whole lot less.”
“Still, it’s progress.”
“I guess. I just thought…” She sat up. Her expression turned fierce. “I can’t believe he chose someone else over me. I know he loves me. Our relationship was amazing. He won’t have that with anyone else. What does she have that I don’t?”
“Controlling interest in Australia’s second largest diamond mine.”
Rebecca slumped back against the cushions. “It’s not just the money. Obviously the diamonds were a big appeal, but there’s something else. I can’t figure out if I was too much for him, or if I wanted too much or demanded too much.”
“Why does it have to be you?” Jayne asked, annoyed. “This really pisses me off. Why do we, as women, assume it’s our fault? I do it, too. Take the blame. Try to fix things. Maybe it’s not you. Maybe you’re the ideal combination of exciting and sexy and fun. Maybe it’s him. He could have married her for the money or access to the diamonds he loves so much. Or maybe because she was easier or safer. Maybe he has a brain tumor that’s interfering with his frontal lobe. I’m not saying you’re perfect, I’m saying don’t assume it’s just you.”
“That was quite the rant.”
“I am passionate about a few subjects. I hate how women subjugate themselves to men, emotionally. Sometimes the woman is the problem, but sometimes she isn’t. Sometimes it’s both of them.”
