And that was why. Coward that he was, Thirio couldn’t bear to spend more time with her. Not much more. There was danger in her company, danger in their conversations.
‘We were up all night. I presumed you’d be tired.’
‘I was,’ she agreed. ‘But still...’
‘Are you comfortable with what you’ve achieved this weekend?’ He pulled the cup away from the machine and turned, handing it to her, watching as she took it. A small frown was on her lips.
‘Honestly?’ Her eyes searched his, probing, pushing. ‘I’m tempted to say no, so you’ll invite me back next weekend.’
She was sounding him out, trying to work out what he wanted. Was there more here? Would he offer her more? He couldn’t lead her on, no matter how much he wanted to see her again. It wasn’t fair to Lucinda. She deserved more than he could ever give.
‘If you need to organise anything else, you’re welcome to come back. Just let Travis know the details and he’ll organise a flight.’
He saw the businesslike words hit their mark. She stood her ground but something in her expression seemed to recoil. Just as he’d wanted, he told himself.
‘If this is about last night, Thirio, please don’t beat yourself up for talking to me. I’m glad you told me about what happened. I like that you shared that with me.’
His gut twisted. He’d liked it too. But that was the problem. He didn’twantto like anything about his life.
‘We both knew this was a weekend thing. You’re leaving in a few hours. What more do you want me to say?’
Even as he spoke the words, he heard them as she must and wanted to take them back. He’d gone too far. They were too cutting. Too cold. Too careless.So fix it.But how, and, more importantly, why? She needed to leave and to forget about him. What had started out as a harmless, inevitable fling was now edged with danger, because he knew her better. He knew her softness and vulnerability and he felt a strange yearning to protect her, to keep her safe and make her smile. But these were not skills he had. He couldn’t be trusted.
‘Nothing.’ She sipped her coffee, looking away from him, and he had the terrible, awful feeling that she might be about to cry. But a second later, she faced him, her expression composed. ‘I’ve coordinated everything I need.’
It was the answer he wanted to hear, so why did his gut sink like a stone, all the way to the tiled floor at his feet?
‘So you won’t need to come back again?’
Hurt lashed her features but she sipped her coffee, using those few seconds to hide that pain. ‘No.’ Her throat muscles bunched. ‘I mean, yes, but not until right before the wedding.’ She hesitated. ‘If that’s okay with you?’
He didn’t want her to feel as though she had to ask him for permission! He wanted to tell her she was always welcome here, but it was all too hard, too fraught. He closed his eyes, pushing back the doubts he felt, and focusing on the well-worn path he’d chosen. Six years of loneliness were behind him, a lifetime in front.
‘Of course. I expected as much when I hired you.’
She flinched, right before she turned away. When she placed the coffee cup down on the bench, it was with too much force, all of the emotions she was containing coming out in the splash of dark liquid that landed on the countertop.
He wanted to apologise. He could taste the word in his mouth, he could feel the explanation forming, but to what end? He had to let her go. A curse had fallen on him the night his parents had died, and he couldn’t draw Lucinda into it. He couldn’t let her get any closer. He couldn’t let her care for him, maybe even love him. He couldn’t let her put her life in his hands. How could he live with himself if he made another mistake and she paid the price?
He had to let her go.
And so he did exactly that, watching her retreating back without moving, even when every cell in his body demanded that he follow.