‘How?’ he said. ‘How did you find Mia’s number?’ She heard it then, the snap of accusation. And temper.
‘I didnae call her,’ she said. ‘She called the penthouse to speak to you.’
The frown on his face darkened. ‘What did she want?’ he asked, his tone tight with suspicion.
‘To ask you to come to their Christmas gathering tomorrow in Brooklyn,’ she said, unable to keep the sadness out of her voice. ‘I think you should go,’ she added, before he could respond. ‘It’s been ten years since your mother died...’ She pushed the words out, ignoring his incredulous expression. She hadn’t just crossed a line now—she’d leapt over it with both feet. But there would be no going back now, and maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. ‘Why punish your brothers and sisters if the issue is to do with your mum?’
Whatever Alex’s reasons for avoiding his family, it was clear his brothers and sisters had no idea what they were. Didn’t he at least owe them an explanation?
The frown became catastrophic, but right behind it she could see the shadow of guilt... Which made no sense. If he felt bad about this situation, why hadn’t he corrected it? He’d had ten years to build bridges with his family. Why hadn’t he gone to see them? He’d always struck her as a man who took what he wanted, who got the job done. Alex was a doer, not a bystander. He didn’t second-guess his decisions. It was how he’d become such a success in his business, but also one of the things she found so attractive about him.
She’d been told so many times by her parents that going after what you wanted was reckless, dangerous, and that not accepting the status quo was one of her greatest faults. Alex was living proof the opposite was true. That going after what you wanted could be a good thing, despite the risks. He’d encouraged her in the last few weeks to grab the moment with both hands, to indulge every whim, enjoy every sensation. And it would be one of the things she would miss the most when she lost him. His vitality, his energy, his take-charge attitude.
But it didn’t diminish her love for him to see he could struggle too. That he had vulnerabilities he wanted to hide. That sometimes he wasn’t as sure or certain as he appeared.
She covered his hand again, her heart jolting when his gaze met hers. The tortured expression was quickly masked, but this time, instead of withdrawing his hand, he turned it over, to link his fingers with hers.
The gesture had her heart lurching in her chest, her love expanding.
‘I could come with you, if you want,’ she said gently, her heart breaking for him... And in many ways for herself. If she could help him heal this rift, maybe she could leave something behind her, other than a few Christmas memories. ‘I’d love to meet them. Mia sounded like a lot of fun. And she invited me, just in case you needed an ally. She said they can be quite overwhelming.’
‘You have no idea...’ Alex murmured.
Easing back in the booth, he let his fingers slip from hers, but he could still feel her touch—the burn of her compassion, her tenderness, right down to his soul.
She had no idea what a bastard he was. How he’d used her.
He’d spent the whole damn day thinking about her and the secret he should have revealed yesterday, but hadn’t had the guts to tell her.
And now she’d jumped in on his big confession and given him the perfect excuse to avoid telling her about Roman for another day.
He shouldn’t take it. A part of him didn’t even want to take it. He had no desire whatsoever to see his brothers and sisters again after all this time.
But Mia—from what he could remember of his kid sister—had always been a firecracker, the kind of kid who couldn’t resist stirring up trouble and had the persistence of a steamroller.
As he searched Eleanor’s face and saw, not just compassion for the boy he’d once been, but also the spark of curiosity, he knew Mia had handed him the perfect opportunity to finally show Eleanor what he was and was not capable of.
She’d always yearned for siblings, a big, chaotic, in-your-face family like his, because she’d thought that would give her a place to belong. When the truth was she’d only ever lacked those things because she had never truly belonged with the people who had stolen her. He wanted to hate Ross and Susan MacGregor for what they’d done to that defenceless baby, but how could he, when he’d done the same damn thing to the girl she’d become? He’d taken her innocence and her naiveté, her vulnerability and her compassion, her optimism and honesty and all her energy and wild enthusiasm for life and fed off it like a vampire.
He might have tried to deny it, but he’d known when he’d made her come so many times the night before that she was falling in love with him. He could see it in her eyes, the glow of infatuation. Because on top of everything else she was so easy to read. And he’d fed off that too.
Was that the real reason he’d run out on her today? Not just because of the secret he didn’t want to reveal, but because of the guilty knowledge that had become lodged in his chest like an unexploded bomb.
‘Okay, let’s go to Brooklyn tomorrow,’ he said, not making much of an effort to disguise his reluctance. Better she knew that he was doing this under duress, so she didn’t get her hopes up.
‘Are you sure?’ Her eyebrows launched up her forehead, drawing his gaze to the dusting of glitter she’d applied to her eyelids—which only made her look more delicious.
The familiar heat pounded in his abdomen. He concentrated on it, realising the heat was pretty much the only thing about this situation he understood any more. She’d changed him in some fundamental way, which would be funny if it weren’t so damn disturbing. Changed him enough to make him decide that going to see the family he’d distanced himself from for close to two decades was better than spending Christmas alone with her and the confusing emotions churning in his gut.
‘Yeah, I’m sure,’ he said, resigned to the inevitable. ‘On one condition,’ he added, the tightness in his chest easing at the realisation he’d won himself a reprieve.
‘Which is?’ she asked.
‘We don’t have to talk about it,’ he said. ‘Or anything else that doesn’t involve either food, or how much I want to get you out of that dress.’
‘We have a deal, Mr Insatiable,’ she said, the bright, instant smile making the heat climb up his torso to wrap around his heart.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN