“Rachel…I’m sorry. I’m sorry you heard what you—thought you heard,” he said, gathering his best lawyerly defense: admit nothing.
Then, he realized with a deep, heavy thud in his heart that he wasn’t going to lie. Or obfuscate.
The truth was, he did love Fiona.
He owed it to her—or at least, to his memory of her—to be honest about that.
“It’s over with me and Fiona, Rachel. That was…that was just goodbye. I told you, I’m not going to walk away from my responsibility. And you and I are so well-suited to each other.”
“Obviously not as well-suited as you and Fiona. My God, this garden was sizzling with the chemistry between the two of you.” She withdrew her hands, her voice bitter and Arctic. “And you’ve never said you love me. Ever.”
“I care about you very much Rachel,” he said quickly. But, again: he wasn’t going to lie. “And I’m going to be a wonderful father. I would never let you raise our baby alone, Rachel. I want to be a part of—”
“This is the 21stcentury, for God’s sake. Do you think I want—or need—apityhusband? Amanto take care of me? Youbastard.”
She was the one who cracked him across the face with her hand after all—the cool, controlled businesswoman, not the wild redhead.
He didn’t bother to lift his hand to the stinging cheek. He’d deserved it.Oh,he’d deserved it. “That’s not—I’m not going to be a pity husband—”
“Well, whatever you are, it’snotgoing to be a husband. Mine, anyway.” She was already working the diamond off her finger. “I don’t need you, Gideon. I don’t need a damned husband.”
“But I’m the father—”
“Yes. That’s right. But I sure as hell am not going to marry a man who’s in love with someone else.” She whipped the ring at him, and it glittered as it bounced off his arm and tumbled into the bushes. “What sort of woman do you think I am, to takeleftovers?”
“Rachel, I—”
“Stop it, Gideon. Juststop.” She stared at him, heaving, her eyes black with fury. “Don’t say another word.”
Twenty
“Areyou sure you don’t mind leaving already?” Fiona asked as Brad draped the wrap over her shoulders. All of a sudden, she was cold.
Chilled to the bone.
Oh, Gideon.
It had been all she could do to stop the angry tears before Brad—or someone else—noticed them.
“Not at all. I was ready to go too.” He flashed a smile at her as they stepped out to his Jaguar.
Fiona settled into her seat, her heart still hammering with anger and her veins still jumping.
How dare that stiff-assed lawyer tell her he was in love with her when he was planning to marry someone else?
What did he want—a wife, a child, and a palmist on the side for when he was ready for some fun?
True, he didn’t look as though he was having fun. In fact, he’d looked down right miserable. But that wasn’t her fault, and there was nothing she could or would do about it. He’d made his bed, and so on.
“I still want to stop by the shop to see if my wallet’s there—I know it’s down in Wicks Hollow, but I’ll feel better once I check.”
“Oh, right.” Fiona had forgotten about that detour. She settled back in her seat and closed her eyes in an effort to relax, already looking forward to slipping into bed and having a good cry. She’d planned to go back to her apartment tonight, but with the detour to Wicks Hollow, she’d probably just stay at Ethan’s.
It was after ten o’clock, and Violet Way was deserted of people and vehicles, as the tourist season was well past and the autumn night was chill and dark.
Fiona dug the keys from her handbag, wondering with a spur of apprehension whether The Lamp—Gretchen’s Lamp—would be playing any tricks tonight. It had never done so when anyone else was with her in the shop, but tonight had been so full of upheaval and surprises that she rather expected something else crazy to happen.
The little bell jingled when she opened the door, and she stepped over immediately to disarm the security system. After punching her code into the keypad, she turned on the closest lamp and watched as Brad walked toward the middle of the half-lit shop.
