Page 66 of Captivated
He had no doubt he was going out of his mind. Day after day he prowled the house and the grounds. Night after night he tossed restlessly in bed.
She’d said he was free of her, hadn’t she? Then why wasn’t he?
Why hadn’t he stopped thinking about her, wishing for her? Why could he still see the way she had looked at him that last time, with hurt in her eyes and tears on her cheeks?
He tried to tell himself she’d left him charmed. But he knew it was a lie.
After a week, he gave up and drove by her house. It was empty. He went to the shop and was told by a very cool and unfriendly Mindy that Morgana was away. But she wouldn’t tell him where, or when she would be back.
He should have felt relief. That was what he told himself. Doggedly he pushed thoughts of her aside andpicked up the life he’d led before her.
But when he walked the beach, he imagined what it would be like to stroll there with her, a toddler scampering between them.
That image sent him driving down to L.A. for a few days.
He wanted to think he felt better there, with the rush and the crowds and the noise. He took a lunch with his agent at the Polo Lounge and discussed the casting for his screenplay. He went alone to clubs and fed himself on music and laughter. And he wondered if he’d made a mistake in moving north. Maybe he belonged in the heart of the city, surrounded by strangers and distractions.
But after three days his heart yearned for home, for the rustle of wind and the whoosh of water. And for her.
He went back to the shop, interrogating Mindy ruthlessly enough to have customers backing off andmurmuring. She wouldn’t budge.
At his wits’ end, he took to parking in her driveway and brooding at her house. It had been nearly a month, and he comforted himself with the thought that she had to come back sometime. Her home was here, her business.
Damn it, he was here, waiting for her.
As the sun set, he braced his elbows on the steering wheel and rested his head in his hands. That was just what he was doing, he admitted. Waiting for her. And he wasn’t waiting to have a rational conversation, as he’d tried to convince himself he was over the past weeks.
He was waiting to beg, to promise, to fight, to do whatever it took to put things right again. To put Morgana back in his life again.
He closed his hand over the stones he still wore around his neck and wondered if he could will her back. It was worth a shot. A better idea than putting an ad in the personals, he thought grimly. Shutting his eyes, he focused all his concentration on her.
“Damn it, I know you can hear me if you want to. You’re not going to shut me out this way. You’re not. Just because I was an idiot is no reason to...”
He felt a presence, actually felt it. He opened his eyes cautiously, turned his head and looked up into Sebastian’s amused face.
“What is this?” Sebastian mused. “Amateur night?”
Before he could think, Nash was shoving the car door open. “Where is she?” he demanded, taking Sebastian’s shirt in his fists. “You know, and one way or the other you’re going to tell me.”
Sebastian’s eyes darkened dangerously. “Careful, friend. I’ve been wanting to go one-on-one with you for weeks.”
The notion of a good, nasty fight appealed to Nash enormously. “Then we’ll just—”
“Behave,” Anastasia commanded. “Both of you.” With delicate hands, she pushed the men apart. “I’m sure you’d enjoy giving each other bloody noses and black eyes, but I’m not going to tolerate it.”
Nash fisted his frustrated hands at his sides. “I want to know where she is.”
With a shrug, Sebastian leaned on the hood of the car. “Your wants don’t carry much weight around here.” He crossed his feet at the ankles when Anastasia stepped between them again. “You’re looking a little ragged around the edges, Nash, old boy.” And it pleased him no end. “Conscience stabbing at you?”
“Sebastian.” Ana’s quiet voice held both censure and compassion. “Don’t snipe. Can’t you see he’s unhappy?”
“My heart bleeds.”
Ana laid a hand on Nash’s arm. “And that he’s in love with her?”
Sebastian’s response was a short laugh. “Don’t let the hangdog look twist your feelings, Ana.”
She shot Sebastian an impatient glare. “For heaven’s sake, you only have to look.”
