Her eyes pinch at the corners as she blinks.
“I should be the one begging for your forgiveness,” I rasp. “I wasn’t a gentleman. I kissed you without asking first. Just because it felt like the best decision I’ve ever made doesn’t mean I had the right to do it.”
“You should always do what feels right, what your heart is telling you. And I’m just as guilty as you for what happened. But… it can’t happen again.”
I hang my head, running a hand over the tense lines marring my forehead. “I understand.”
“You’re my client. It’s completely inappropriate. We got carried away, that’s all. We let our growing friendship cloud our judgment.”
She looks at me with desperation, and I bite back the argument on my tongue. We both know it’s a hell of a lot more than that. But she’s here, asking me to pretend for her. What kind of man would I be if I were to deny her wishes? Force something that she clearly doesn’t want?
“Of course,” I reply smoothly.
I walk to the drinks cabinet, turning my back on her. I take my time pouring two glasses of iced water, willing the electricity in my veins to get back under control.
“Let me settle my daughter’s account with you. And then?—”
“And then?”
I turn and pass a glass to her, not missing the heaviness in her shoulders as she accepts it.
“And then you’re free to do whatever you have planned next. I’ll tell Sinclair I wasn’t ready. You didn’t fail, Hallie,” I say softly. “I was just a bad client.”
She sniffs, looking away from me. The urge to wrap her in my arms and tell her it’ll all be okay is overwhelming. But I can’t do anything more to contribute to the growing anxiety on her face. She’s awoken something in me. A part of myself I gave up on ever seeing again a long time ago. But this is my fault. Maybe if I hadn’t kissed her… If I hadn’t devoured every inch of her skin I could get my hands on…
Maybe I wouldn’t have frightened her into leaving.
She finally looks up, capturing me with her beautiful gaze, so vibrant, shining with unshed tears. It’s like looking into a cave full of sapphires glinting beneath the surface of the ocean.
“I, um…” She attempts to compose herself, taking a slow, deliberate breath. “Sinclair told me a few days ago that tomorrow is the second anniversary of losing them.”
“It is,” I confirm, forcing some of the cool water down my burning throat at the thought of my son being gone for seven hundred and thirty days.
“I remember how I felt on Jenny’s. Is there anything I can do?”
It’s completely selfish of me to ask, but I do it anyway.
“Stay.”
“What?” she whispers.
“You’ve been my friend since you came here, Hallie, just like you said.” My brow scrunches up as I get out the words I have no right to ask. “Don’t leave until after. Save the goodbyes for another couple of days.”
Her eyes soften and she nods.
Even though we both understand that we’re delaying the inevitable.
That I have to let her go.
Just not yet.
15
STERLING
Hallie smilesas I look at her over the top of my book.
“You have a home cinema, and you’d rather read poetry?”
