His expression was sweet. Kind. His tone was both when he said, “I’ve enjoyed your company, Sabrina. More than I expected to.”
She let out a breath that was half a laugh. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered.”
“Flattered,” he assured her, his dark eyes sparkling in the dim interior lights. “One of the drawbacks of being as well-schooled and well-traveled as I am is that I’ve seen it all and done it all. I rarely meet anyone who truly intrigues me.”
She shook her head and stared at him in wonder. “Seriously, do you have any flaws?”
He joked about it being easy to appear flawless when he had a therapist, an on-call chef, and a personal trainer determined to iron out his wrinkles. Then, before she could brace herself, he leaned across the console and kissed her cheek.
His lips were warm. Solid. His expensive cologne reminded her of fine leather and rare woods. And masculine confidence radiated from him in the very best way possible.
Most women would have swooned to have him so focused on them. Kissing them.
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
Her heart belonged to one man, and Martin Massey wasn’t him.
You’re an idiot, the little voice that lived at the back of her head declared.
I know, she silently agreed.
After he pulled back, she whispered, “Thank you for being so kind about everything.”
“Thank you for being honest with me.”
Her expression turned self-deprecating. “You must think I’m ten kinds of crazy, huh?”
He shook his head. “Crazy or not, the heart wants what the heart wants.”
“Unfortunately, just because the heart wants something, that doesn’t mean it’ll get it.”
“He’s a damned fool if he doesn’t grab onto you with both hands and never let go.”
She made a face and then shrugged dejectedly. Her last words to him were, “Good night, Martin.”
“Goodbye, Sabrina.”
His cultured voice followed her as she stepped out into the night. She gave him a little wave and watched as he slid his sleek car back into traffic. Then, she dragged in a deep breath and let herself be surrounded by the city.
Summer still had its cloying, clutching hands around Chicago’s throat. But a blessedly cool breeze was blowing in from the lake.
The evening had turned soft as silk against her exposed skin. Warm enough to keep her from shivering. Cool enough that the air tasted crisp and clean instead of hot with baking blacktop and car exhaust.
She didn’t turn toward Black Knights Inc. Instead, she headed toward the river, searching for quiet. For solitude. For a moment to gather her thoughts and shore up her walls before returning home.
Neon reflected off the pavement. Laughter and honking horns floated in the air from the direction of downtown. The smell of fried onions and Garrett’s popcorn created a strange perfume. And a couple hurried past her, arm in arm, their voices bright with tipsy happiness.
The city was vibrant. Pulsing with life.
In contrast, she felt like a ghost drifting through it. A dark specter of melancholy amidst all that gaiety and frivolity.
She’d tried.
Tried to go back to the way things were before that one glorious afternoon. Tried to act the same and talk the same and feel the same.
But nothing was the same.
