Her Perfect Affair by Priscilla Oliveras

Author:Priscilla Oliveras [Oliveras, Priscilla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Upstairs in her room, Rosa heard the click of the front door closing. She paused in the midst of turning down her bed, her fingers clenching the comforter’s cushiony cotton material. Indecision paralyzed her.

Maybe climbing into bed was too suggestive. What if Jeremy got the impression she was inviting him to join her?

Embarrassed heat climbed her face.

Suddenly panicked, she flung the comforter back into place, hurrying around to the opposite side to straighten it out. Bending down, she snatched the red and orange decorative pillows off the floor, tossing them willy-nilly onto the bed.

Dios mío, how had things spiraled to this crazy, inconceivable moment?

Agreeing to Jeremy staying over hadn’t been the brightest of light bulb ideas, but she’d been cornered.

Tía Dolores mentioned changing her ticket and Rosa had freaked. No way did she want to disrupt Dolores and Pablo’s plans. People would find out and wonder why. They’d talk. About her. If word got back to Father Yosef before she spoke with him . . .

No, no, no. That wouldn’t be good.

To avoid any problems, she’d opted for disrupting her own life. Like it wasn’t disrupted enough already. Not to mention Jeremy’s.

He was too nice to complain. Too much of a good guy not to come to her rescue, but this was only for a few days. Tops.

As soon as Dolores got on her flight to PR, Jeremy could go home. Rosa would be fine on her own. Yaz was good backup if needed, and Lilí would be here soon enough.

The stairs creaked. Papi’s built-in home “alarm system” for when Lilí or Yaz had tried to sneak in late was still on alert. Now it signaled Jeremy’s imminent approach.

Rosa’s gaze swept across her room, from her queen bed to the chocolate-stained six-drawer double dresser along the left wall, scurrying over to the matching low bookshelf and comfy reading armchair and ottoman in the right corner—desperate to decide where would be best for him to find her waiting.

“Rosa?” he called out.

“In—” She cleared the scratch from her voice. “In here.”

Knees weak, she sank onto the edge of her bed. She grabbed a circular orange pillow, hugging it against her chest like a shield.

This was Jeremy. No need to be nervous.

Yeah, right.

It would help if every time she looked at the bed she didn’t picture the two of them together. Recalling the intoxicating juxtaposition of his strength and gentleness with her.

Not to mention the number of times she’d lay in this very bed, wishing he were here with her. Relegated to satisfying her lonely heart by composing lines about him in her private poetry journal. He had inspired some of her best work. Though no one would ever read those lines to know it.

To make matters worse, he was not going to be thrilled with her plan to thwart Dolores.

That certainty had Rosa squeezing her pillow shield tighter.

Jeremy poked his head around the open doorway, a tentative smile curving his lips. He moved to lean against the doorjamb. Not quite crossing the threshold.

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