his throat, he’d been withdrawing, deeply aware of a sense of jeopardy. His father hadn’t killed himself because he’d fallen for his secretary. He’d killed himself because he’d fallen. In love. Deep emotions drove men to desperate acts.
What he’d felt for Sirena in those loaded minutes of sensual closeness had scared the hell out of him.
He’d pulled away, said something about the rain having stopped. By the time he’d dropped her at her building and returned to his own, he’d been primed for a reason, any reason, to knock her so far away from him she’d never reach him again.
And he had.
...Even my stepmother didn’t go that far to hurt me.
Rather than killing himself, he’d destroyed what had been growing between them.
It was a sickening, horrid vision of himself. He lurched to his feet, needing to escape his own pathetic weakness, but only drew the attention of the room.
“Problem, sir?” The group stood back to look between him and the Smart Board where the schedule could have been written in Sanskrit for all the sense it made.
“I have to make a call,” he lied, and strode through the maze of cubicles clattering with keyboard strikes into his office. It contained two desks, one that was a bold, masculine statement and the other a stylish work space that, for a time, had been the first place he glanced. Now it stood as a monument to his colossal overreaction.
He rubbed his face, hating to feel this tortured, this guilty. The fact remained, she had stolen from him, he reminded himself.
But he hadn’t lashed out at her for that. She’d angered him, yes, but her real crime had been moving him in the first place. Sirena had dared to penetrate walls nobody else had dared breach.
Lust isn’t caring.
No, it wasn’t, but what he felt wasn’t mere lust.
* * *
Sirena was grateful that Raoul had left for the office before she rose. Of course, she was also hypocrite enough to miss him despite her chagrin over her revelation last night. There was also envy and disgruntlement that he still worked in one of the many dynamic, ever-changing offices she had loved so much. Who had taken her place? She hated her usurper on principle.
Chatting with Beatrisa, hearing stories of Raoul’s childhood became a nice distraction from her muddled emotions.
When he returned unexpectedly at lunch, it was with a surprise: tickets to a matinee. “Musicals aren’t my speed. I’ll stay with Lucy. You ladies have fun.”
It was an incredible treat, the sort of thing Sirena used to wish for every time they visited New York, but had never found time or funds for. Afterward they had tea and scones in a glitzy café until Raoul texted that his daughter had inherited his stubborn streak.
Giggling over his self-deprecating assessment, they rushed back so Sirena could feed their starving baby. Full of excitement about their afternoon, she was disappointed when Raoul said, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Start dinner without me. I have a call to make.”
When he found his way to the table, he was wearing his cloak of remoteness. His mother didn’t pick up the signals of his distraction, but Sirena did. While Beatrisa talked about their day, the feeling of being left out of his world struck Sirena afresh, but she supposed his turning aloof was better than another clash like last night’s.
As Beatrisa wound down over coffee, Raoul finally said, “I’m afraid we’ve had a change of plans, Mother. We won’t be able to stay the week. The company has been nominated for an award in L.A. I have to fly out to pick it up.”
“You hate those things!” Sirena blurted. It had always been her job to figure out who could show up in his place, make the arrangements and prepare a speech.
“Surely you could do that without dragging Sirena and the baby across the country? They can stay here with me,” his mother said.
Sirena shrugged. Lucy was out of sorts enough with the time change from London. She didn’t need another one.
Raoul only gave his coffee cup a quarter turn and said, “They’ve specifically asked if Sirena would attend. It’s that bunch we worked with for the special-effects software,” he told her. “You always made an impression with my associates. You’ve been sorely missed by a lot of them.”
Sirena flushed hot and cold, not sure how to respond. She missed everything about her job, but she couldn’t go back to it, so she tried not to think of it.
As she considered all those beautiful women he’d taken to galas and cocktail parties, she also felt too inadequate to be his date. “I never attended that sort of thing with you before—” she started to dismiss.
“Things are different now, aren’t they?”
How? She lifted a swift glance and collided with his unrelenting stare, like he was pushing his will upon her. She instinctively bristled while the fault line in her chest gaped and widened. “There’s no one to watch Lucy.”
“Miranda’s agreed to fly in and sit with her.”
“You want to fly your stepsister to L.A. to babysit?” It was ludicrous—and the way he briefly glanced away, as though he wasn’t being honest with her, put her on guard.
“She flies all the time doing those trade shows. We’ll need to leave early, but we’ll come back here for a day or two on our way back to London.” He rose, putting an end to the discussion in a completely familiar way.
Old habits of accommodating his needs collided with the newer ones of taking care of her baby’s needs and her own. “Raoul.”
“This is important to me, Sirena. Please don’t argue.”
Wow. Had he just said please? Shock struck her dumb long enough he was able to escape without her raising another argument.
* * *
By morning, it was too late. When he said early, he meant early, coming into her room to begin packing Lucy’s things while shooing Sirena’s sleepy head into the shower. Being naked and knowing he was just beyond the door made her senses flare, but he was completely indifferent. They were on the plane within the hour.
Lucy didn’t enjoy the altitude climb, so they were well in the air before Sirena caught her breath. She gratefully embraced a cup of coffee while Raoul swept and tapped his way across a tablet screen.
“I liked that crew from the film, too, but I can’t believe you shook us out of bed for them. What’s really going on?” she asked.
“Use the stateroom if you want more sleep.” He didn’t even look up.
“No, I’ve had coffee now. You’ll have to entertain me,” she volleyed back.
His gaze came up with pupils so big his eyes were almost black. After a checking glance to their sleeping infant, he swung a loaded “Okay” to her.
In a blink, he’d transformed from the distracted man intent on his work that she’d seen a million times to a predatory male thinking of nothing
