fact he hadn’t even turned while she’d been talking to him. She shut down all the hurt flooding through her and nodded at the man who was waiting to help her.
She murmured a thank you when she reached the top, and then she was walking as fast and as far from the boat—from Blake—as she could.
CALLIE SIGHED AS she stared at the clock on her desk. It was almost eleven. She had been back at the hotel for almost an hour now, after taking a taxi, and she’d spent that hour clearing her office of the mess she’d made after hastily preparing for their unexpected double proposal.
She was waiting for Blake to arrive and return to his house, so that she didn’t bump into him when she popped into her brother’s office to give him an update. Connor had said that he’d wait for her to return, and though she knew it wasn’t nice of her to make him wait even longer she didn’t want to deal with Blake until she’d had a good night’s rest.
Or at least that was what she was telling herself.
She sighed and paged through the file she kept on the proposals. So many things had happened that day—that evening. And the evening’s events made her want to throw the file in her hand at the door. When Blake had swooped her up into his arms after they’d finished the proposal and taken her to celebrate on his boat—a boat—she’d almost laughed at how unbelievable it was. Now she thought that it wasn’t as unbelievable as Blake’s claim that he was just ‘rewarding an employee’ by taking her there.
After the things they had shared with one another, after the romance of the evening—and, yes, she acknowledged, to her the whole boat event had been heartbreakingly romantic—the fact that he could claim she was just an employee to him hurt. After she had bared her soul to him—and she gritted her teeth at that—how could he callously say such a thing? All because he didn’t want to talk about his stupid marriage.
It hurt her more than she wanted to admit that he wouldn’t talk to her. Sure, he had told her about his parents’ split, and he had been open—however reluctantly—to her conclusion about his subsequent relationship with his father. But then he’d completely shut down when she’d asked him about his ex-wife, going right back to being the stubborn boss she knew and intensely disliked. The one she would never have considered telling about her parents’ deaths and how it had broken her.
This was the reason she didn’t open up to people, she thought as she began to gather her things. People let you down. One day you had them around you, and you thought that you wouldn’t ever feel alone, and the next day they were gone. It didn’t matter why they left—those reasons always changed—the leaving was the one thing that was always consistent.
So she should be glad that this had happened. Blake was saving her so much heartache by pushing her away. And she would listen to herself in the future, not to Connor or any of her colleagues, who insisted that she should open up to people. That she should date.
It was just a waste of time, she thought, and locked her door. Especially if the person she opened up to wasn’t ready to do so themselves.
As she made her way to the exit of the hotel she saw that her brother’s office door was slightly ajar. Guilt crept in as she remembered that she was supposed to give him an update, and she sighed and detoured to his office. Subconsciously she was hoping that he had already gone home, and she could send him a message when she got home with a quick summary. But he never left his door open after he’d left for the day, so she resigned herself to having to tell him how the day had gone.
It was dark when she peered into the office, with only the city’s lights shining through an open window illuminating the room. When her eyes adjusted she saw the outline of a figure in Connor’s chair. Her heart thudded and she rushed to his side.
‘Connor, are you okay?’
Only when she knelt beside him did she realise that it was Blake, not Connor, sitting at her brother’s desk.
‘Oh, I’m sorry—I thought you were Connor.’ She rose awkwardly to her feet and wished she hadn’t let the guilt of responsibility lead her into the lion’s den.
‘I got that,’ he said dryly, and his voice was lined with something she couldn’t place her finger on. But she knew it was dangerous.
‘I just wanted to fill him in on today.’ She eyed the door she had shut when she’d thought something was wrong with her brother, desperately wishing she had left it open.
‘I did that. He left a few minutes ago.’
‘Oh, okay...’ Why was her voice so shaky? ‘I’ll go, then.’
‘No.’
She exhaled sharply. ‘What do you want, Blake?’
‘I want to apologise.’
‘For what?’
‘For being a jerk earlier.’
A part of her wanted to brush it off, to tell him that it didn’t matter. But she couldn’t because...it did. It mattered. Everything she had told herself earlier about it being for the best faded somewhere into the background of her mind as she realised this. But she didn’t respond to him.
With her eyes fully adjusted, she could see that he no longer had his tie on, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. She swallowed, all thought leaving her mind as she noticed that his neck was bare, ready to be kissed. She shook her head and shifted her eyes to his face. It was as gorgeous as it had been the first time she’d admired it, but the danger she had sensed from him earlier was clearly outlined there.
Somewhere at the back of her mind a voice was shouting that she should leave before she had the chance to find out what that danger meant for her. But she didn’t move, not until Blake stood, and then she took a step back, bumping into Connor’s bookcase. It shuddered, barely moving, but it knocked some of the breath from her.
‘I...I can’t do this with you, Blake.’
‘Do what?’
He was a few feet away from her now. She could smell him, and the sexy scent nearly sent her to her knees. She was suddenly incredibly grateful for the bookcase behind her that held her steady.
‘Whatever you have in—’
Her words were cut off as he walked slowly towards her. Her heart rate—which was never really normal around him—kicked up even higher.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked breathily when there was barely any space between them.
‘I’m apologising,’ he said, and placed his hands on either side of her.
‘It’s okay. It’s fine.’
She didn’t care that she hadn’t been ready to accept his apology a few minutes ago.
‘Good. But now I’m saying sorry in advance...for doing this.’
And he kissed her.
His lips were soft on hers, and she could barely breathe from the electricity that
