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“Immersion therapy.”
Sylvie gave a strangled laugh. “Isn’t that when you go to a foreign country and don’t know the language?”
“In this case, I will immerse myself in your life.” His unsmiling gaze met hers. “I obviously didn’t know you before, Sylvie. What better way to get you out of my system than to become acquainted with the real you?”
Chapter Five (#ulink_f118acdf-1f1b-5221-bce7-369b91de8a73)
Allow Andrew to immerse himself in her life? The thought terrified Sylvie. The months since she’d left Boston had been difficult ones. There had been days when she’d been sorely tempted to pull the covers over her head and simply remain in bed.
Though walking away from him had been the hardest thing she’d ever done, Sylvie believed her decision to leave had been the right one. A life with the wrong person never ended well. She only had to look to her parents’ marriage to validate that point. According to her mother, her relationship with Sylvie’s dad had turned rocky shortly after they’d married. She’d never been able to make her husband happy, because they were just too different.
Given time, Sylvie believed it would have been like that with her and Andrew. Despite the explosive chemistry between them, he’d have come to his senses one day and realized they were simply too different. Unfortunately, by that time his relationship with his own parents might have been damaged beyond repair.
We might have been happy.
It was her heart whispering the words, not her head. Her head recalled the conversation she’d overheard between him and his father. Recalled the harsh words spoken between father and son.
From the shadows Sylvie had found herself silently siding with his father. Agreeing with him that she and Andrew were an unlikely pair. Nodding silently at his pronouncements that it would be a miracle if their marriage lasted more than a year or two. Like Franklin O’Shea, Sylvie believed that if she hadn’t shown up Andrew would have fallen in love with someone of his own...well, kind.
When Andrew had insisted his father accept Sylvie or else, Sylvie realized she couldn’t—she wouldn’t—come between Andrew and his father.
Sylvie sensed Andrew’s gaze on her face, still waiting for her reaction.
He was good at waiting.
She’d discovered that early on when he’d come into the bakery for eight days straight.
He’d been patient then. She sensed he’d be patient now.
“Okay.” She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “A couple of days—”
“As long as it takes.”
As she caught the determined glint in his eyes, she felt the need to clarify. “Not forever.”
He gave a soft chuckle. “I have to be back in Boston by October 1. No, not forever. I blocked out three weeks. I doubt it will take that long.”
Three weeks with Andrew. She considered. “What would I need to do?”
“Be yourself.”
That sounded simple enough. Three weeks. Twenty-one days of her life. Given their history, it seemed little enough to ask.
The fact that they’d hopped into bed almost immediately made her wonder if he was expecting sex to be part of the deal. “I think it is best we keep any physical intimacy to a minimum.”
His gaze never wavered, though for a second she swore his lips twitched. “If that’s the way you want it to be.”
“I think it’d be best, don’t you?”
The second the question left her lips, Sylvie wished she could smother it under a stack of pillows. Why was she asking for buy-in? This was her decision.
“If you’re asking if I think it’d be a good idea for us to spend the next three weeks in bed.” He paused and tapped a finger against his lips. “However much fun that might be, I’d say no. But I am open to considering anything up to that point.”
Sylvie’s voice deserted her. Her quickening pulse was completely illogical. The level of sexual interaction wasn’t a big issue, she told herself, because sex was a nonissue. It took two to tango and she wasn’t doing any more dancing with Andrew.
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