Page 78 of Lela's Choice

“What’s the emergency?” he demanded.

She challenged him out of dry eyes. “My heart is breaking.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

She gestured to empty tables nearby. “You can sit at another table.”

“I thought you’d understand that I can’t put anyone in that position.”

Now I’m “anyone” to you.“There’s no point in rehashing this.”

“You know I can’t leave today.” He glanced around and leaned closer. “Sophie and Peter will be here in a few hours. Can’t you bend a little?”

“Can’t.” She picked up her cup and was proud when her hand didn’t tremble. “At first, I had no options. Honestly, where could a ten-year-old have gone? Then I learned to compromise. Sophie was a little girl, my brothers and I were children. But I can’t compromise on this. It’s too big.”

“Stay.” He growled. “Sophie will expect you to be here today.”

“Not good enough. Have you changed your mind?” She tilted her head to study him. Thirty impossibly long seconds passed. “I thought not. I choose life, Hamish. I’m not prepared to settle for second best. I want a lover who’ll consider the possibility of loving me, who’ll be proud to be seen in public with me.”

“That’s unfair. I am proud to be seen in public with you.”

“In another city, another state, another country where your family and friends can’t see us. And you skipped the hard bit—opening yourself to the possibility of love.”

I love you. Like falling off a mountain, she’d been skirting close to the edge in those first few days, learning about him. The slow seduction of finding they shared the same values, had the same ethical approaches. Then she’d stumbled. It might have been his understanding about Sophie, his bone-deep commitment to people in trouble, or it could have been the taste of him. She’d tumbled over the edge quickly, flying without a parachute. Loving him was like falling, terrifying and exciting, like the third glass of champagne fizzing in her head, making her believe in miracles.

All that before they’d made love. His body had been a revelation, how her body had responded a personal sin. In the short time they’d had together, they’d seesawed from desperate lust and violent all-consuming need, to tenderness, to tending. He’d whispered sweet nothings, stroked and held her. A rollercoaster few days.

Loving. That’s what they’d done, even if he couldn’t say the word.

“We’ve just met. We barely know each other.”

“I disagree. I know you care deeply about your work, about your family. You persevered with getting me onside after I was rude to you at the airport. Not because it was me, but because my cooperation was necessary. You wear a spider watch and unconventional ties because you think about the impression a big man makes on a small child and their terrified mother. We have so many things in common. I look at you and see what might be. I yearn—body, heart, and mind.” She had no pride left, and maybe one day she’d regret exposing herself so totally.

“I explained.”

“You explained that a madman shot your pregnant wife. A man who beat up his own wife and children, and when you agreed to represent her, he decided to punish you.”

“He killed Olivia in cold blood,” he said through gritted teeth.

“What he did is unforgivable, and I am more sorry than I can say that you lost your family in such a way. Such meaningless phrases.” Consciously, she tried to steady her breathing and lower her voice. “I can barely comprehend what such a loss means. Are you going to let him control the rest of your life?”

“He’s not controlling my life. Damn it, I am. I’m still doing that work. I still deal with angry men. I won’t put a woman I care about in a position of danger again.”

“You say care about, I say love. You’ve never once said you love me. What do you really feel, Hamish? Don’t I deserve to know that?

“I can’t allow myself to love. I can’t do that again.”

She forced a smile through the tears running down her cheeks. “I should apologise for this unedifying display. Do you have a tissue?” He passed one to her, and she wiped her eyes before pushing it into her pocket. “I’m not usually such a crybaby.”

“Let me drive you to the airport,” he begged.

“All arranged.” She took a final sip of her tea.

“What do you want me to tell Sophie?”

He’d stopped asking her to stay, and his acceptance of her decision hurt in a whole new way. No repeat of last night’s plea to be convenient lovers? Hadhis offer been another lie?

“That at the moment Papa and my brothers need me more.” A habit it was time she broke—letting her family rely on her. “I’m having trouble processing her decision.”

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