Nothing Less Than Love

Beth was nowhere to be found so Gwyneth consulted with Tasha, the downstairs maid, and Andrew’s daughter. Andrew and his wife had been in the employ of the Del Royce’s even before Tasha was born. Martha died three years ago, and Tasha took over her position. Between the two girls they made a list of things to do then each took half. Gwyneth studied her list and went on her way to get things done.

A couple of hours later, Gwyneth was perched precariously on the rim of the huge tub in the downstairs guest room when someone grabbed her from behind. She whirled around to confront her mysterious grabber then threw herself into his arms. “You jerk,” she said affectionately then reached up to ruffle Marcus’s hair. He was Howard and Lilly’s youngest son. They were fourteen months apart, and raised like siblings.

“Baby doll, you’re home,” Marcus said exuberantly. “How’s your college?”

Gwyneth shrugged. “Well, fifteen hundred girls, no boys, and it’s catholic. What else is there to say?” The university sounded like a drag, but it was truly a beautiful campus and had one of the best business programs in California. It wasn’t her first choice but they’d offered a scholarship.

“That’s tough,” Marcus patted her shoulder. “So what are you doing?”

Sighing, Gwyneth pushed some loose hair off her forehead. “Cleaning. My aunt needs help getting this place in shape for your guests tonight.”

Marcus wiggled his eyebrows. “Want to be my date?” His seductive toned elicited a laugh for all his efforts. “I promise everyone will adore you.”

Gwyneth snorted. “Especially your parents and Jordan.”

“Speaking of...have you seen Jordan?” Marcus inquired curiously.

“No, I’ve been busy,” Gwyneth said as she went back to scrubbing. “I need to get this done,” she said pointedly.

Shrugging Marcus stood up. “I just thought you might be avoiding him.”

Gwyneth whirled around. “Why would I do that?”

Reminding her, Marcus responded. “After that argument you had last year.” He scratched his head. “Let me see if I can remember... Oh, yes, he accused you of taking advantage of our parents' generosity and you told him he was a stuffy old man stuck in the body of a little tin god. It only escalated from there, and everyone in the house could hear you screaming.”

Gwyneth’s face turned red as Marcus recounted the argument, but not for the reason he thought. It wasn’t anger but embarrassment that heated her flesh. She still had not forgotten the way the argument ended—the sudden descent of Jordan’s head as he took fierce possession of her mouth. The rushing fire in her blood, and then the rise of shame as he tore himself away from her and stalked out of the room. To this day she could still feel his body and mouth against her. “That was a year ago. I’m sure we’ve both forgotten by now.” After a few more minutes of small talk, Marcus finally left her to finish her chores.