an aviation specialist.’
She frowned. ‘Aviation?’
Yeah, there wasn’t that much adulation in that. ‘As in big deals between big airlines and aircraft manufacturers. Leasing and financing and stuff.’
‘And that’s law?’
‘They need legal advice to do the deals—so, yes.’
‘Oh.’
‘It’s very interesting.’ Hell, did he sound desperate for approval or what? But he loved it. Wouldn’t work crazy hours if he didn’t.
‘I’m sure.’
‘It’s more interesting than HR.’ Totally defensive now.
‘Well, that wouldn’t be hard.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘So, does that mean you get to go for rides in flash private planes?’
‘The question everyone asks.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I expected more from you. Sometimes—not often.’
‘But you like planes?’
‘Always have. I like flying.’
‘Can you?’
‘I have my pilot’s licence.’ And he skydived. He liked the rush of that.
‘Oh, that’s cool. So you really love it?’
‘Yeah, I do.’ Finally the grin broke out of him. ‘Going to work is fun. But it’s not what people think of when you tell them you’re a lawyer.’
‘Who cares?’ she said. ‘You work in a field you love. You’re lucky. Your parents must be proud.’
Ethan sent her a sideways look, but she was smiling ahead at the road, all innocence. Yeah, right. She was fishing, but he wasn’t biting. Because, no, his father wasn’t proud. ‘You mean you don’t love HR? But you get to make people miserable, right?’ He teased his way out of answering.
‘Very funny.’
‘So why did you get into it if it’s not floating your boat?’
‘I wanted a job in a big firm. All big firms need HR people.’
‘Why big?’
‘The usual reasons—money, security.’
‘Yeah, but bigger isn’t always better.’
‘You’re wrong.’ She shook her head. ‘It was nice meeting your family.’
Nice—great. That awful word again. And she couldn’t possibly think it had been nice. She was back to fishing. Apprehension slithered down his spine. Inviting her into his life this way had been crazy. How was she going to report back to her web-witches? He figured he’d be in for a caning. But had she seen his family’s vulnerability? Did she even care? What about Bella? Those moments by the piano that had filled him with pleasure before now made him wince. Did Nadia think he was superficial enough to have orchestrated that? She was so untrusting she probably did. He wanted to skip this as the third date. They should do something else. But that would mean seeing her again—and that seemed like a really dumb idea. This wasn’t the game it had been, and it sure as hell wasn’t uncomplicated.
As he pulled up outside her flat he knew he had to address it. ‘Please don’t write about today in your blog.’ Annoyed at how husky he sounded, he spoke faster, more harshly. ‘I don’t want all that out there. Not Dad. And I didn’t set that up with Bella to prove anything to you. Can’t—?’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ she interrupted, her voice shrill. ‘Do you really think I’d mention any of that?’
He was silent.
In the confines of his car her anger reverberated. Her outrage. Her hurt.
‘What kind of a person do you think I am?’ she asked, totally wounded. ‘You haven’t gotten to know me at all, have you? You haven’t listened to anything I’ve told you.’ She leapt out of the car and ran up her path.
Ethan stared after her—hating himself even more than he had that moment almost two hours ago. He’d felt sick when he’d seen his father talking to Nadia. He’d seen the look. It was how he looked at her—as if she was some delicate morsel to be devoured. Nadia had been wrong. Or maybe she’d been right and it was just that Ethan was so paranoid about his father he couldn’t see straight.
Either way it didn’t matter, because the revelation was still clear and still true. He’d always said he was nothing like his father, but Nadia had said differently. And he was the same—every bit the same selfish, insensitive jerk. He’d just proved it.
He swore and leaped out of the car.
‘Nadia!’ He grabbed the front door handle so she couldn’t open it and get away from him. But she didn’t turn around. A slender, silver fairy-woman stood in front of him—one he wanted to pull back against him and keep her there. He ached for the hot, sweet relief to be found with her.
He bent his head, lightly brushing his lips in her hair, hoping she couldn’t feel it as he breathed in her scent. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It does.’ He felt her trembling.
‘I don’t blame you for thinking I’d do that,’ she said softly.
But he should have known she wouldn’t. Deep down he had. Nadia, with her big green eyes and her sweetheart-shaped face, wasn’t in this world to hurt people. Now Nadia herself was hurt—and it was his fault.
‘I wish you’d talk to me,’ she whispered.
‘And tell you what?’ His blood chilled. There wasn’t anything to say. ‘Don’t think you know anything more about me just because you’ve met my messed-up family.’
‘But wasn’t that the point?’
He clenched his teeth. The original point had been to make her uncomfortable. Only it had backfired completely, and he was the one feeling tortured and embarrassed and angry.
‘How you act around them tells me a lot.’ Her voice wobbled.
He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t.’ She knew nothing—because he’d only realised a couple of things himself this very moment. He gripped the door handle even harder, physically fighting the urge to take her into his arms.
‘You’re not the carefree guy you make yourself out to be. You’re more sensitive than that. You care about them.’
It was so ironic that now she thought she was seeing some good in him, when he was realising just how little there actually was. ‘You don’t know anything, Nadia.’
She’d been right. He did hide what was beneath his surface—because underneath lurked the same kind of indifference that his father had. Indifference to relationships, commitment, marriage.
