She was conscious of the width and power of his shoulders, of his height in the small space and the shadow that darkened his lean jaw. His sex appeal was undeniable and suddenly Heron Lodge seemed smaller than ever. She was a physical person and she’d denied that part of herself for too long. Her stomach was tight with awareness, her nerve endings alive to the change in the atmosphere. Its chemistry spun a web around them, trapping them both. She wondered what he’d say if he knew she hadn’t slept with a man since him.
“Let’s go outside on the deck.” She handed him the heaped plate. “It’s a warm evening and after spending a day in the restaurant and the hospital I need fresh air. You can tell me about Walter.”
Sean pulled out a chair next to the little wooden table she’d placed right by the water. Her deck was bathed by light spilling from the open door of the lodge. “I gather you were with him when it happened.” He started to eat and she realized this was probably how life was for him. Snatching what time he could between the ferocious demands of his job.
“It was horrible. One minute he was teasing me about those ‘terrible French pancakes’ as he calls them. The next he was on the floor. My hands were shaking so badly I could hardly make the phone call. I thought I’d killed him.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” He tore a chunk of bread. “There were no clues before that? No mentions of chest pains?”
“He said nothing to me. Elizabeth said he’d mentioned indigestion a few times, but nothing that rang any alarm bells. He has been helping me with the deck. I feel so guilty about that.”
“Don’t. This place is his passion and the physical demands of keeping it running are part of the reason he has stayed fit
for so long.”
“I should have thought of a way of involving him that didn’t include him doing physical work.”
“No one has ever been able to stop Gramps from doing physical work. In all the years I lived here I never saw him take a day off. He worked. We all worked.” Sean finished the bread. “This is good. Sea salt and rosemary gets my vote.”
As he ate, he updated her about his grandfather.
She envied his calm, and was reassured by it. “I am very worried for him. He’s eighty.” Which was why she dared to love him. He was the only man in possession of her heart, apart from Jackson, to whom she owed a debt she could never repay.
“There’s no reason why he shouldn’t make a full recovery.”
Except that life was full of events that weren’t reasonable and made no sense, she knew that.
Élise rubbed her fingers across her forehead, refusing to let her mind linger on that thought. “Did your mother come home with you?”
“Yes, I brought her back. But Grams won’t leave his side. Tyler’s there now and I’ll go back later.”
The O’Neil family stuck together in difficult times. It was one of the many things she loved about them. That was why Sean had driven straight here after a day of operating. No one from this family would ever find themselves alone and struggling. No one would find themselves sitting in a dark Paris room with the door barricaded and no one to turn to.
“You must be exhausted. You can’t go back to the hospital tonight.”
“We can’t leave Grams there by herself and Tyler needs to get some rest. I’ll grab a few hours before I go back.” He lifted his broad shoulders in a dismissive shrug. “One of the advantages of medical training is that you learn to function on little sleep.”
“Walter must have been very relieved to see you.”
“He opened his eyes for long enough to tell me to get the hell back to Boston where I belonged.” He finished his food and pushed the plate away. “That was delicious. Best thing I’ve tasted in months.”
“He said that?” Shocked, Élise stared at him. “He didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, he did. Don’t look so worried. I took it as a sign that at least part of him was functioning normally. If he’d welcomed me with hugs and balloons I would have been sending him for a brain scan.” But Sean’s smile was tired and Élise felt a flash of frustration that human relationships had to be so complicated.
“Is that why you don’t come home more? Because he’s difficult?”
“My home is Boston.” His answer was smooth. “And I come home when my schedule allows.”
Which was hardly ever. She’d assumed he was busy. Occasionally she’d wondered if his absence had something to do with her. Now she wondered if there was more to it. “Don’t you miss Snow Crystal?”
“I like the city. I like having a choice of restaurants within two blocks and access to culture. Don’t you ever miss Paris? I can’t believe you don’t sometimes feel trapped in a place like this.”
Surrounded by lakes, forests, mountains and beauty, working in a job she loved with people who cared about her?
This wasn’t trapped.
Something dark unfurled inside her.