Chapter Twelve

      Betsy didn’t see Ryan when she and Kate returned to the great room, but Tripp was hanging out by a tall ficus tree decorated in bright orange lights.

      “Oh, my,” Betsy said.

      “I know they’re garish, but Chloe loves them,” Kate said.

      “It’s not that,” Betsy mumbled.

      “Then what is...” Kate stopped, then smiled. “Looks like you have your pick of men this evening.”

      “When it rains it pours.” Betsy could feel the medallion in the pocket of her pants. She wasn’t sure why she’d brought it. Courage, perhaps?

      “Look, if you want, we can hang out—”

      “Thank you, but as the hostess I know you have a lot to do.” Betsy offered a reassuring smile. “I’ll be just fine.”

      Kate searched her eyes. “Sure?”

      “Positive.” Betsy laid a hand on Kate’s arm. “I feel so much better after talking to you. Like I’m in the home of a friend.”

      “That’s because you are,” Kate said. “I hope you and I can become good friends.”

      “Mo-om.” A thin preteen girl who was a younger version of Kate motioned to her. “You’re needed in the kitchen.”

      “Go,” Betsy said. “I’m fine.”

      Kate gave Betsy’s arm a companionable squeeze. “Well, if you need me, you know where to find me.”

      What I need, Betsy thought, is a good stiff drink. Or perhaps a bubble bath. She’d always done some of her best thinking when up to her neck in fragrant suds.

      “Glass of wine, my dear?”

      Betsy looked up to find Tripp standing beside her, a glass of white wine in one hand and a glass of red in the other.

      “Which one is for me?” she asked.

      “Whichever one you like,” he said, shooting her a smile that showed off a mouthful of straight, white teeth. “I hedged my bets by getting one of each.”

      “Aren’t you the clever one?” She took the burgundy and glanced around the room. “Where’s Ryan?”

      “Does it matte—”

      “Of course it matters.” Ryan suddenly appeared beside her. “I was looking for you.”

      Betsy knew it was crazy, but she felt better just having him there. “I ran into Kate and we got to talking.”

      “I think you two could be really good friends,” he said.

      “You would know,” Tripp said. “You dated her for—”

      “It’s been great seeing you, Tripp, but Betsy and I have some things we need to discuss. In private.” Ryan’s gaze met Tripp’s. There was something in his stance, in the tilt of his jaw, that said the topic wasn’t up for discussion.

      “See you later, Betsy,” Tripp said pointedly before he walked away.

      Ryan held out his hand. “Take a walk with me.”

      Betsy glanced around. “Won’t it be rude to take off? We just got here.”

      Ryan chuckled. “I don’t mean leave, just walk around the house with me.”

      “Oh.” Betsy attempted a laugh. “You must think I’m stupid.”

      She knew it was because she was nervous. Oh, who was she kidding? It was Ryan. Whenever he was near he made her feel like an awkward schoolgirl who barely knew her own name.

      “There are a lot of things I think when I look at you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Never stupid.”

      She didn’t know what to say, so she glanced around the room. “Look, Benedict Campbell is here.”

      Ryan muttered something. It almost sounded like a curse, but that couldn’t be right. She noticed Ben was standing by himself. “Maybe we should go over and say hello.”

      “Later,” Ryan said. “Much later.”

      He took her arm and steered her toward the stairs. “Have you seen the upstairs?”

      “We can’t go upstairs,” Betsy hissed, digging in her heels.

      “Joel,” Ryan called out as their host walked past. “I want to show Betsy the upstairs. Do you mind?”

      Something unspoken passed between the two men. Joel smiled. “Not at all.”

      “I won’t touch anything,” Betsy said.

      “No worries,” Joel said.

      “C’mon.” Out of the corner of one eye, Ryan saw Benedict headed their way. It had been hard enough to get Betsy away from Tripp. Ben wouldn’t be so easily dismissed.

      Ryan tugged on Betsy’s hand. This time she came willingly. They climbed the stairs together and stopped. At the far end of the hall was an alcove with a love seat. “This way.”

      When they reached the love seat, he sat and pulled her down next to him. He took the wineglass she held clutched in one hand and set it on the side table next to the small sofa.

      “What’s going on, Ryan?” Betsy’s brows were pulled together and her eyes were clearly puzzled. “Why did you bring me up here? Were you, are you ashamed of me?”

      Ashamed of her? “What are you talking about?”

      “You brought me up here, away from everyone.” She chewed on her lower lip. “I admit that I’m not exactly dressed the best. But that’s because I didn’t think it was going to be this grand affair. I thought we were coming to build a snowman and maybe have a snowball fight.”

      She looked so miserable that anger rose inside him. Betsy was a wonderful, beautiful woman. He’d like to get his hands on the man or men who had caused this insecurity. “You