“Nina, I need you to wake up.” The sweet dream was over.
Her forehead creased and her eyes opened. All of a sudden, she came right awake, meeting his eyes. Hers widened when she saw how he was dressed. Yeah, in a suit and ready for work.
She quickly sat up and glanced at the coffee but didn’t reach for it. Eduardo took a sip of his, to stop himself from bending down and kissing her.
“What time is it?” she asked, her voice early morning husky.
Not the right time. And he wasn’t the right guy for her either. “Time for work.” He retreated to the doorway. “The car is coming for me. It’s not actually mine,” he said, needing to explain. “It belongs to my clients. They live at the Docklands. They send a driver for me to do a home visit and then he takes me back into town to the hospital.”
She sat up, keeping the sheet clutched close to her chest and not revealing anywhere near enough skin. “They’re important clients?”
“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate. Didn’t want to explain why the daily visits were so necessary. He didn’t want to see her pity—he had to keep his emotions under control, and right now he felt like his skin was too thin. “It’s their car. I can’t give you a lift. I’m sorry.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” she said crisply. “If you just give me a minute, I’ll be out of here.” She twisted awkwardly, trying to exit the bed while keeping herself covered.
“You can take a shower…” he trailed off and then just backed out the door.
In the hallway, he leaned against the wall for a second and closed his eyes. She wanted out of there as soon as possible—he read it on her face. No doubt he’d been too abrupt, too abrasive.
It didn’t matter, right? In fact, it was better in the long run. She had a trip to look forward to and he had work. This was the right thing.
So why did it feel wrong?
Chapter Five
The plan was perfect. She left home half an hour earlier, got an earlier train, sat in the open-ultra-early café near her store and waited until it was time to open up. Doing that the last two days had ensured she hadn’t seen him. Today she walked as early and as quickly again. Of course, she could just walk to the Tube station in the other direction from her tiny, overcrowded flat, but then she’d have to change lines part way through her commute and damn it, she liked those Sherlock Holmes tiles in her own station.
Anyway, it had just been one night. She was cool with it.
Except she wasn’t quite that cool. And that was so stupid of her. So stupidly young and girly to think about him all the time. She knew why it was. He’d made her feel wanted. He’d made her feel desirable and sexy and like she was some erotically captivating woman. And she had been—she’d touched him until he’d begged her to finish him. Until he’d lost control—in her mouth, her hands, her body. She’d had him every way she could and she knew he’d loved it.
Of course, he’d done all that and more to her. In between he’d wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight until energy had returned and they could do it again. He’d given her orgasm after orgasm and crazy, hot sex—and confidence in her sensuality. Until at last at some point in the early hours sleep had stolen them both.
So she finally had a one-night stand. She had meaningless sex purely for the physical pleasure. There’d been so much pleasure. And it had been meaningless, right? Because she didn’t want anything more, anyway. So it really shouldn’t matter that the morning after had been so quick and cold. It really shouldn’t matter that he hadn’t kissed her good-bye. It really shouldn’t matter that she was never going to see him again.
Except somehow, just a bit, it did.
She held her breath as she neared his door, her stride increasing. But in the quiet early morning light, she heard the turn of a handle and then she saw his silhouette emerge. Her heart pounded. Should she smile and say hi? Of course. No reason they couldn’t wave. She could play it easy—they’d had a good time together, right? She could be all grown up and sophisticated.
He went down the few steps to the pavement. His head turned, so he looked down her end of the street. But he didn’t gesture, he didn’t do anything. All he did was step forward as the black car slid past her and paused for him.
Snapshots imprinted on Nina’s mind—his profile, him opening the door. She knew he’d seen her. There was no way he hadn’t—even with those sunglasses hiding his startling eyes. But he’d turned to the car and he hadn’t turned back. He’d totally blanked her. He’d climbed into the car and it had pulled away immediately. No smile, no wave, no nothing.
Nina stopped still on the pavement and just stared. Corey had cheated—more than once, with more than one. But Nina hadn’t felt as shocked then as she did now. Why be that rude? Why act like she didn’t even exist?
He’d been stiff as he’d walked—like he was overly conscious of his movements. Like he knew he was being watched. Yeah, he’d known she was there and he was determined not to care about her feelings at all.
She was furious with him—why had he ruined her memory of that night? Why sour it with such unsocial behavior now? Why be such a complete jerk?
Ironically, it was her best morning’s sales. By rights she shouldn’t have sold a thing. But her customers didn’t pick up on her stormy mood. Instead, she faked the happy romantic spirit so hard she had the boys buying double. How typical that she could get guys to buy big for the women in their lives, yet she couldn’t land a man who would do that for her.
As closing time finally neared, pain pushed at her temples and she felt lightheaded. She stood behind the counter and took a moment to regroup, hoping some more Stella-type spenders would walk through the door.
Only the next person through the door wasn’t a customer.
“Nina.” He walked until he stood across the counter from her. Tall, solemn—more unnaturally expressionless than usual.
“What do you want?” She couldn’t fake any politeness now.
“Nina.” His answer came too soft, too forced. He stared at her, the muscles in his jaw tight, his lips firmly pressed together.
She couldn’t bear to see the ice in his expression, so she looked down at her frozen hands. That’s when it dawned on her.
“Oh.” She’d laugh if it weren’t so mortifying. “Your diamond.” She’d been in such a hurry to get out of his house the other morning, she’d forgotten she had it on. She’d been planning to put it though his letterbox—except that had seemed a little unsafe for something so valuable. If he’d actually bothered to say hi this morning, she’d have given it to him and it would all have been cool.
“Not the diamond,” he said harshly.
No?
His head moved, the smallest negative. “My patient died.”
Silenced, she stared at him.
“The car came for me. I needed to see him and be with his parents. I’d just had the call.”
This morning—when he’d been so remote and cold.
“I’m sorry.” Her throat tightened.
He stepped back as she stepped out from the counter. “They’re private clients,” he explained quickly. “They’re both financiers. Caspar is their only child. They chose to care for him at home these last few months and I visited every morning before starting at the hospital.”
Nina stared at him, eyes stinging. But he wouldn’t look at her now and she needed to see what he was thinking—and feeling.
“How old was he?” she asked, afraid of the answer—knowing no matter what, it was going to be bad.
“Three.”
“Oh, Ed—”
“I know I was rude to you this morning. I wanted you to understand why I didn’t stop to talk. Or smile. I couldn’t say anything this morning because…” He cleared his throat, glaring at some invisible speck on the floor. “I couldn’t say anything.”
“This was the patient you went to the other night, after the restaurant.” It all became clear to her—why he’d been so serious. Why he’d wanted the fun.
He nodded, a frown creasing his forehead.
“You could have told me.” She’d opened up to him, she’d have tried to help. Even just listen.
His frown deepened. “I didn’t want to score pity points. And it’s hardly light, is it—talking about a patient about to die. I didn’t want that. I wanted…crazy flashmob fun.”
She understood wanting a night’s escape. It was what she’d wanted, too. But she also understood the need for comfort. And right now, she sensed that deep need in him. Not sexual. This was sadness. Misery.