Page 87 of Lela's Choice

“Why?”

“I said I’d meet him in person.” He shrugged. “A compulsion I didn’t fully understand at the time.”

“And now?”

He nodded.

* * *

LELA TURNED AND WALKEDtowards the chair he’d been sitting in when she’d arrived. Automatically picking it up, she leaned on it for support, while she slowly gathered her composure. This morning had reminded her of the precariousness of life. Being in his arms reminded her of all the reasons she loved him, all the reasons she’d missed him. There hadn’t been a moment in the few weeks since she’d said goodbye when her head hadn’t been filled with him, when her body hadn’t ached at his absence. She was ready to accept his terms—any terms.

I’m afraid I’m too late, that your silence since the one phone call when you returned to Sydney means you’re no longer interested.

Checking on her well-being was a Hamish sort of thing to do. Patting her down to assure himself she was safe was pure Hamish.

“Papa invited me to lunch with him at Bennelong, a rare honour.” Unimportant chitchat, but she was sharing a room with Hamish—working her way towards a declaration.

The tension in his beautiful, deep voice in the short voicemail message had given her the courage to make his office her first stop. He hadn’t noticed her arrival, allowing her to study him from the doorway for endless seconds, while she’d summoned her meet-the-client poise. Hunched into his chair, he’d looked deep in thought. With thoughts that brought no peace. His jacket was flung on the leather sofa at the side of the room, along with his discarded tie. The one he’d worn at breakfast in Malta, when she’d begun to realise he was a non-conformist—when she’d been intrigued—when she’d begun the headlong fall into love.

Even if he’d lost interest, she’d apologise for her quick judgement in Malta and tell him something she should never have forgotten—cherish the moments you have with those you love because they’re gone in a heartbeat.

“Even taking the time to lunch is out of character for Papa.” Then recalled she’d described her reaction to Hamish’s first kiss as out of character.Everything reminded her of Hamish.“Anyway, he said you’d made him see a few things differently. He told me he’s proud of me.”

“That’s a start.” The acerbic tone alerted Lela.

“Did you coach him?”

“Just reminded him life’s short.” He pushed his hands into his trouser pockets. “But Sophie’s flight and your move out of the house made it easier to make the case.”

“Papa explained he can’t call me Lela. It reminds him too much of Mama. In part because Mama chose the name Carmen. Mama said it tied her to her mother and grandmother.” Lela treasured the discovery. “Papa accepts that everyone except him calls me Lela. He’s organised to go to Malta for Sophie’s eighteenth birthday. He’s taking my brothers and their families with him.”

“She invited me last week.”

“Oh.”What was Sophie playing at?

“That’s what I said, then she offered a lure, said you were going. I was planning when I might see you, talk to you, apologise.” He took a step closer. “I told her I needed to sort a few things first.” He didn’t need to add,do the work I love. His strength was also his weakness. In seeking to protect those he might love from harm, he locked everyone out.

Lela cursed the unfairness of life. “You said no.” She was no longer certain of her conviction in Malta that he loved her, that they’d made love together. She’d come anyway.

“IsaidI had to sort a few things first. Today changed my timeline. Let’s talk about now.”

“Okay.” She sucked in a steadying breath. “I can talk about now.”About a no-strings affair.

“I love you,” he said.

Lela closed her eyes. Exquisite agony. “I carry too much baggage to be easy to love. Papa, Sophie, the tough woman I’ve become as a result.” The baggage had grown heavier with his rejection.

“You had me from the moment you walked through the customs gate at the airport.”

“You said that was lust, remember?”

“I want you.” And the intensity of his words made Lela tremble. “Every moment I spent with you, I fell harder, deeper.” He raised a hand, then dropped it to his side. “What bastard told you that you’re difficult to love? Who, besides Sophie, was cruel enough and stupid enough to say you were unlovable?”

“I’d give yourself a tick for that one.” Her stomach clenched. Believing, then losing again, would kill her.

“Fair call, but I wasn’t the first?”

“You were the only one who mattered.” Lela hadn’t planned to make that confession. She’d planned to be sophisticated, blasé—wasn’t that the right tone when you were suggesting an affair? “You left me alone.” Her voice cracked in anguish. “I felt unlovable.”

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