need to at least try to sleep tonight. I have it on good authority my new employer is a harsh taskmaster.”
“I’m sure he’s not as bad as his reputation.”
“I will have to judge that for myself, I suppose.”
In light of the information he had just shared with her, a few more pieces of the Aidan Caine puzzle seemed to click into place. “Your brain tumor is the reason you’ve invited your family to Snow Angel Cove for the holidays, isn’t it?”
He sipped at his water instead of answering but she knew suddenly she was right.
Like many people facing a personal crisis, he was turning to those who had loved him all his life—for comfort, for support, perhaps simply for a connection to the familiar.
The insight made her heart ache a little for him, even as she was aware of a tweak of envy that he had such a huge circle he could gather around him.
“I hate to mention this, but I’m going to have to insist you don’t say anything to anyone else about what I just told you,” Aidan said.
She bristled, that moment of soft compassion giving way to annoyance that he would think she was the sort of person who might run to the tabloids with this sort of juicy tidbit. “I never would! Even if I hadn’t signed a nondisclosure clause with my employment paperwork, I wouldn’t share your personal information with anyone, Aidan.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you wouldn’t. I just had to be clear. It’s a very closely guarded secret. If it became public knowledge before I’m a hundred percent back to normal, the Caine Tech shareholders could panic. We’re in the middle of some very intricate negotiations to purchase two other companies right now and I don’t want to unnecessarily complicate matters.”
Again, that compassion squeezed her chest. The poor man. She couldn’t imagine the sort of pressure on him, where he had to be so guarded about his personal life.
On the other hand, she was keeping secrets from him about her own history and about Trent’s death, so perhaps she wasn’t in a position to judge.
“I won’t say a word,” she promised.
He sipped at his water and gazed at the flickering fire. The gas fireplaces were far more convenient than those that burned wood for fuel and were cozy enough to warm a room, but something was definitely lost without the crackle and hiss and the aroma of burning fruitwood.
“I also must insist you not mention anything about my brain tumor to my family members while they’re here.”
It was a good thing she was firmly sitting down or she would have stumbled, with her typical style and grace. “What? You mean your family doesn’t even know?”
He gave a shrug that wasn’t really an answer at all.
She stared at him, appalled. “Let me get this straight. You seriously had major surgery—someone drilled a hole in your skull and stuck a knife into your brain, for heaven’s sake—and you didn’t bother to mention this little fact to your family?”
“Technically, they removed a piece of skull and used a laser, then put the skull back. But yeah. My family doesn’t know.”
“I don’t understand. I had the impression from the way you spoke of them that you’re all quite close.”
“We are.”
“And you didn’t think they might want to know that you had a brain tumor removed?”
She couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around it—and her brain was completely intact, thank you very much. From all he had told her, his family was filled with wonderful people who gathered around each other in times of need. He had talked about his brother the wounded soldier and his other brother who had lost his wife with deep love and compassion—and yet when he needed that same hand of support, he had shut them all out.
“What good would it have done to worry everyone? Doctors first found the tumor the week before my pop’s wedding. They weren’t sure then whether it was benign or malignant. I couldn’t ruin things for him with that kind of news. And then we decided to go for the surgery while Pop was on his honeymoon. Again, I certainly wasn’t going to call him on his cruise and tell him to rush back to sit at my bedside when it was completely unnecessary.”
“Okay, I suppose I can give you that one. But what about the rest of them? Good grief, you have enough siblings for a basketball team with a couple of alternates! You don’t think a single one of them would have come to help you out?”
He winced a little at her raised voice—apparently his headache wasn’t completely gone. She was sorry for that but not sorry for her sentiment.
“It was my call and I made it. My family can be overwhelming and I didn’t want everyone fussing around me. A few trusted members of my household and corporate staff knew and that was plenty.”
She frowned, sensing something else at play here. He had purposely isolated himself from his family. Why? He obviously loved them. She would have thought he would automatically turn to them during what could have been a life-threatening health condition.
None of it was her business, she reminded herself.
“You can disagree with my decision,” he went on, his voice stiff. “But if you are unable or unwilling to promise you can keep this information to yourself while my family is here, I am very much afraid I can’t honor our employment agreement.”
She gaped at him. “Let me get this straight. You’re basically threatening to fire me before the paperwork even goes through if I so much as think about telling your family about the major brain surgery you neglected to mention to them.”
“That’s about the size of it, yeah.”
Oh, good grief. She threw up her hands. “Fine. Mum’s the word, then. I already told you I wouldn’t tell anyone. If that includes your family, so be it. Am I allowed to tell you I think you’re completely wrong? You obviously care a great deal about your family or you wouldn’t be going to so much trouble to have them all here for Christmas. I fail to see the point of even pretending to have a loving relationship if you shut them out when you need them most.”
“Duly noted. Now can we talk about something else?”
She should make some excuse and go back to bed but their disagreement seemed to have had an energizing effect. She didn’t feel tired at all, though she would undoubtedly pay the price in the morning.
“Sure. How is your headache now?”
“Better. Thanks. In case you wondered, coddling me isn’t in your job description.”
She was quite certain nagging him about his family wasn’t in there, either. “Consider it a bonus. I like to give my employers extra bang for their buck,” she said.
“Do you?” he murmured.
She could detect absolutely no innuendo in his voice but for some ridiculous reason, she could feel her face heat, anyway. She was suddenly aware again of the intimacy of the situation, the two of them virtually alone except for her sleeping child, in a darkened house, in front of a cozy fireplace.
