Mila had allowed herself to hope that maybe...just maybe James remembered their time together fondly and had used the funding from his clinic to show her that.
The waiter had set their dinner plates in front of them at some point, without Mila really paying attention to anything except James. The thought of eating now made her gut churn.
Maybe he read something in her face. Maybe he’d just realized how his words had sounded, because he leaned forward a bit, snagging her gaze with his.
“I’m happy about what you do, Mila. Glad there are still people like you in the world.” A muscle in his throat worked. “I’m just not one of them. Those cases, they...”
He shook his head, not finishing his sentence.
“They bother you?”
Was that it? He couldn’t bear to look at what humans could do to each other?
“Yes. They bother me.” And this time Mila swore she saw a glimmer of something in his face. Compassion. Or maybe anger. She really couldn’t tell. But it beat that blank mask he tended to wear.
Except for in those pictures. Then it had slipped when she wasn’t looking. The camera had been watching, though, and it had caught him in the act.
Only Mila had no idea what any of it meant.
“They bother me too, James, but someone has to help them.”
“I know.” He lifted a shoulder. “It just can’t be me. Not anymore.”
“Why?”
The muscle in his jaw went back to its rhythmic pulse. “I’m just not cut out for it. I do better with the celebrities and socialites, like my parents. We come from the same world. We understand each other.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”
“Believe it. It’s true.” He picked up his fork and cut into his thick slab of steak. “Don’t let your food get cold. Très Magnifique does a wonderful job.”
Mila had ordered beef tips with mushrooms over pasta. Spearing a bite-sized piece of meat, she tried to figure out what was going on with him. Only she was no good at reading this man. Not anymore. Maybe not even when they’d been together, since she’d been so sure he’d been as happy as she had.
Except he hadn’t been. Not toward the end. He’d been pulling away, and she’d found herself becoming something she hadn’t liked. A grasping, frightened girl, trying to do her best to hold a fading romance together all by herself.
Never again.
She would never throw her heart back into the ring like she had during her time with James. Tyler had known the score and had been willing to wait for her to trust him fully. When she’d realized she’d never be able to give him what he needed, she’d broken it off.
And she missed his friendship. Especially now. Especially when confronted with a man who still had the power to wound her with the tiniest of barbs.
Like his unwillingness to work on those who so desperately needed his skills?
Yes.
But there’d been something behind his words. His relationship with his parents had always been rocky at best. And at the very end, when he’d broken off their engagement, he’d said something about his father. The loathing in his voice would have shocked her under normal circumstances but the agony she’d felt in realizing their relationship was over had drowned any other thoughts for a very long time.
Had the man threatened to cut James from his will for marrying a shy do-gooder who shunned the celebrity scene?
Somehow she couldn’t picture James caring one way or the other. He’d made his own way in the world, his wealthy clientele willing to pay exorbitant prices to be ensconced in the luxury and prestige of his clinic and be catered to by some of the best physicians in the world. From cardiac surgery to face-lifts, from cradle to geriatrics, the medical center gave the finest care available.
She’d never understood what had happened between them, other than she hadn’t been enough to make him happy. And she’d been too angry to ask if his surface explanation—that they weren’t right for each other—was the truth. After discovering what her aunt had done, she’d decided she was never going to try to pry the truth out of anyone ever again. They could either tell her or not, but if they chose the latter, she was done with them.
Forcing herself to swallow, she pasted a smile on her face. “Thank you. You were right, the meal was delicious.” Not that she’d actually tasted much of it beyond the first few bites. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
“Would you like coffee?”
She hesitated. James had always liked to finish his meal with a nice strong java, no matter what the time. Caffeine had never seemed to affect him. Neither had anything else. But she suddenly wanted out of the intimate confines of the restaurant and to finish this back on her own turf, where she knew what to do to protect her mind from stray thoughts...and her heart from stray emotions. She decided to go with escape.
“I have a small apartment above the clinic. I can make us a pot of coffee if you want, and we can go over those pictures.”
He frowned. “You live in the clinic?”
“Not in the clinic, no. Like I said, I have a small studio apartment above it. It saves on transportation costs since I don’t have to drive to work.”
And it also made it easy to take those middle-of-the-night emergency calls, since all she had to do was throw on some scrubs and walk down a flight of stairs to get to her clinic.
“Were you there when that window was broken?”
No, she’d been in the process of breaking things off with Tyler that night. It had taken her almost three weeks to get the window repaired. Something she wasn’t going to tell James, because she had the strange sensation he wouldn’t be happy about that. Why he would even care, though, was beyond her.
“I was out that night. But it turned out to be nothing. No big drama. No one was hiding inside the clinic.”
His frown deepened. “You went in by yourself?”
No. Tyler had gone in and checked the place out, even though she could tell he’d been crushed by their breakup. She’d tried to take a taxi home, but he’d insisted on driving her.
He was a good man, a simple man with simple tastes, and Mila wished with all her heart that she could have fallen in love with him. But you couldn’t control who you loved. She’d found that out the hard way—had mooned after James, even as she’d flown off to the jungles of Brazil to get away from her pain.
And it had worked. She’d come back a changed person. At least she’d thought she had. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“No, I had someone with me.”
James swallowed, if that jerky movement of his throat could be called a swallow.
“I’m glad.” He called for the check
