“No.” I take both his hands in mine. “Because I don’t see anything wrong with you, Landon. I love you.”
He ignores me and rises to his feet. “I need another drink.”
I get up and face him. Somewhere inside, something is tugging at me, some insecure thought. He’s unraveling because of Ava, because he’s devastated, because he still loves her, because… I silence the thought. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” I say firmly. “This is not the time to fall apart. Think of the negative press, the questions people will ask about the security at the Gold Dust. Think of the fact that Evans is on the run, think of how much he hates you. You have to pull yourself together and manage this.”
Landon sighs and lowers himself back on the seat. His eyes close and I swallow a lump of pain. He’s falling apart because of her. My hand goes to my belly, hovering protectively over where my child is growing. Our child.
“I’m going to ask Jed to call the pilot and make sure you’re ready to leave in a few hours,” I whisper. “The whole world knows she was asking for you. You have to go.”
Landon nods and opens his eyes, and I remove my hand from my belly, afraid that he may have caught the gesture, but once again, it’s almost as if he’s looking through me. I’m going to have a baby. The words play at my lips, but it doesn’t feel right to tell him now, when he’s so haunted by another woman’s pain.
A woman he still cares about, obviously.
“You’re right,” he says. “Of course. I have to go.”
I nod. My mind churning with all the insecurities I’m trying to push aside. Ava is the damsel in distress, and when my prince rides to the rescue, would he become her prince? Was a prince allowed to rescue more than one damsel? Who decided which damsel would get the happy-ever-after?
I almost laugh, the turmoil in my heart verging on hysterical. I have to call Jed. I have to arrange for the plane and tell Esmeralda to pack a suitcase for Landon. I start to walk away, but Landon’s voice stops me.
“Will you come with me?”
I turn back to face him, and this time, he’s really looking at me, and there is entreaty in his blue gaze.
I close my eyes. “Of course.”
IN San Francisco, a car is waiting at the airport to take us straight to the hospital. Outside, a respectable distance from the entrance, there’s another small crowd of press and photographers.
I follow Landon inside, ignoring the camera flashes. An orderly leads us to the ward, outside which there’s a small group of people I assume to be some of the Sinclairs. They greet Landon, but not very warmly, and they totally ignore me, which is fine, as far as I’m concerned.
A doctor soon arrives.
“You’re Landon Court?”
“Yes,” Landon replies, taking the doctor’s proffered hand. She is looking at him with a mixture of respect and admiration, and I wonder vaguely if the hospital is one of those he sponsors. “How is she?”
“She’s asleep right now as you can see,” the doctor replies, pointing a hand toward the window of the private ward where Ava is. “And she’s healing nicely. The attacker missed any major organs, so she’ll be out of here in a couple of days.”
I tune out the rest of the words. Through the open shutters, I can see Ava, looking small and weak in her bed, hooked up to a variety of machines.
Landon’s eyes are turned in the same direction. There’s no way he won’t hold himself responsible, I think sadly.
The doctor says something else to Landon, which I don’t catch, then she turns and walks away.
“She looks…” I shake my head, unable to reconcile the figure on the bed to the beautiful, confident woman I remember.
“I know.” Landon’s voice is grave and his eyes are shuttered. “You should go back to the hotel. I’ll wait and talk to her when she wakes.”
I swallow, trying hard not to submit to that feeling of being relegated, again. “Of course.” I lean forward and place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you later.”
The driver is waiting for me downstairs. At the Gold Dust, Claude Devin is solicitous but mostly quiet, so unlike his usual delightful self. As he personally escorts me to the penthouse suite, I feel a small surge of pity for him. It can’t be good for a manager that such an attack occurred during his watch. I undress slowly, tiredly, before stepping into the shower. I remain there for a long time, letting the water wash over my body.
We have to trust each other.
I was trusting Landon, believing, and holding on to every reason he’d ever given to make me believe that he loved me. I’m holding on to all the reasons why I can’t let myself think that maybe, just maybe, Ava was more important to him than I could bear; all the reasons why I had promised him that I would never walk away again.
Not that I wanted to. How could I? I had lost myself in him, so totally, that walking away from him would be as effective as walking away from a part of myself.
And now, there was a part of him that would never leave me.