she’d turned her back on the day he’d walked out of her life. It wasn’t love, she told herself. It was something else—something as powerful and perverse and demanding as anything she’d ever felt.
But she was stronger now, and no longer an innocent. She had a life—and a love in it—that was worth resisting Alex Antonides.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she said, holding his gaze. “It was nice to see you again.”
It was, she hoped, a clear dismissal. It was also a blatant lie. She could have gone the rest of her life without seeing Alex again and died a happy woman. She didn’t need a reminder of the stupidest thirty hours of her life. But in another way, she was aware of owing him her unending gratitude.
That single day had forever changed her life.
“Was it?” he asked. His words were as speculative as his gaze. He smiled. And resist as she would, she saw in that smile the man who once upon a time had melted her bones, her resolve, every shred of her common sense, then broken her heart.
She turned away. “Goodbye, Alex.”
“Daisy.” His voice stopped her.
She glanced back. “What?”
The smile grew rueful, crooked, far too appealing. “Have dinner with me.”
“WHAT? No!” She looked panic-stricken. Horrified.
Not at all like the Daisy he remembered. And yet she was so much the Daisy he remembered that Alex couldn’t just turn and walk away. Not now. Not when he’d finally found her again. “Why not?”
“Because … because I don’t want to!” Her cheeks had grown red in the throes of passion. Her whole body had blushed when he’d made love to her. His body—right now—was already contemplating doing the same thing again.
Which was a profoundly stupid idea, considering what he wanted, what she wanted, considering the present—and their past.
“Do you hate me?” he asked. He remembered the way they had parted. She’d looked devastated, about to cry. Thank God she hadn’t. But what she’d wanted—the hope of a lifetime of love—was his worst nightmare. It brought back memories that he’d turned his back on years ago. What had begun happening between them that weekend was something he wasn’t ready for. Would never be ready for.
So there was no point in making her hope in vain. He regretted having hurt her when he’d left her. But he could never bring himself to regret that weekend. It was one of the best memories of his life.
“Of course I don’t hate you,” she said briskly now. “I don’t care at all about you.”
Her words were a slap in the face. But he supposed he had it coming. And it was just as well, wasn’t it, that she didn’t care? It meant he hadn’t hurt her badly after all.
“Well, then,” he suggested easily, “let’s share a meal.” He gave her his best engaging grin. “For old times’ sake,” he added when he could see the word no forming on her lips.
“We don’t have old times.”
“We have one old time,” he reminded her softly.
Her cheeks grew brighter yet. “That was a long, long time ago. Years. Five or six at least.”
“Five,” he said. “And a half.” He remembered clearly. It was right after that weekend that he’d made up his mind to stay in Europe, to buy a place in Paris.
It made sense businesswise, he’d told himself at the time. But it wasn’t only business that had made him dig in across the pond. It was smarter to put an ocean between himself and the temptation that was Daisy.
She was still tempting. But a dinner he could handle. “It’s just a meal, Daisy. I promise I won’t sweep you off to bed.” Not that he wouldn’t like to.
“You couldn’t,” she said flatly.
He thought he could, but emotions would get involved. So he wouldn’t go there, as tempting as it was. Still, he wasn’t willing to walk away, either. “We have a lot to catch up on,” he cajoled.
But Daisy shook her head. “I don’t think so.” Her smile was brittle. He saw none of the sunny sincerity he’d always associated with his memories of her. Interesting.
He studied her now, wondering what her life had been like over the past five years. He’d always imagined she’d found the true love she’d been seeking, had found a man who’d made her happy. And if the thought occasionally had made him grind his teeth, he told himself a guy couldn’t have everything. He had what he wanted.
Now he wondered if Daisy had got what she wanted. Suddenly he wanted to know.
“Another time then,” he suggested.
“Thank you, but no.”
He knew he was going to get “no” if he asked a hundred times. And the knowledge annoyed him. “Once upon a time we had a lot to say to each other,” he reminded her.
“Once upon a time is for fairy tales, Alex. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”
“Let’s,” he said readily. “I’ll walk with you.”
“I don’t mean go somewhere else,” she said. “I mean I have to go back inside. I have work to do. In my office.”
“Matchmaking?”
She shook her head. “Not tonight.”
“Photography?” He remembered the camera, how it had been almost a natural extension of who she was.
She nodded, smiling a little. It was a real smile.
“You’ve got your own business then?” he pressed.
“Yes.” She nodded. The smile stayed.
“Families? Kids? People of all shapes and sizes?” And at her further nod, he said, “Show me.”
She almost moved toward the door, almost started to invite him in. But then she stayed where she was, gave her head a little shake. “I don’t think so.”
“You took photos of us.” Sometimes he’d wished he had one. To take out and remember. But that was stupid. It was better to forget.
She shrugged and looked just a little uncomfortable. He wondered if she still had the photos.
“Why matchmaking?” he asked her suddenly.
She shrugged. “Long story.” And no invitation to ask her to tell it.
He lifted a corner of his mouth. “I’ve got time.”
“I
