can’t really blame you for thinking that, can I?’ he said with a sigh. ‘I dragged you into this. I didn’t give you much choice.’
Lizzie raised her eyebrows. ‘Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for that!’
He was silent for a long moment. ‘No…’ he finally said, his voice little more than a breath. ‘Not exactly.’ He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, let his fingers trail down her cheek.
Lizzie tried not to tremble. Not to lean into his hand. Not to show him how much she wanted him.
He already knew, anyway.
He dropped his hand, gave an awkward little smile. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’ll stop.’
‘Stop?’ she repeated, and realised she sounded disappointed. ‘Stop what, exactly?’
‘Trying to get you into my bed.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘I want you, Lizzie. I want to make love to you. But I won’t. I know you want…you need more from me.’ He paused, and there was a tender uncertainty in his voice that made her mouth dry and her heart ache with both need and hurt. ‘I just don’t know if I can give it.’
She’d never expected this from him, and only now she realised how much she’d wanted it. Wanted him, his honesty and his kindness. Wanted someone looking at her, listening to her. Loving her. ‘Thank you for being truthful with me,’ she said after a long moment.
He inclined his head in silent acknowledgement. ‘Shall we eat?’
She nodded, and he stood up, reaching a hand out to help her up. This time she took it.
Her mind spun as they headed back to the room. He helped her over the window ledge, smiled briefly with a selfdeprecating humour that seemed entirely at odds with his careless arrogance.
Who was this man?
The real man?
The man underneath. She’d seen glimpses of him, flickers of something real. Something warm and vibrant. She realised now how much she wanted to believe there was more to Cormac than the ambition and the affairs. More than manipulation.
She wanted to believe in this.
She helped herself to the meal, then sat on the edge of the bed, her legs tucked under her.
Cormac sat in the chair opposite and dug in with gusto.
‘This is delicious,’ she murmured, trying to think of something to say, wanting to break the silence that had sprung between them, a silence of uncertainty, of possibility.
Cormac nodded in agreement. ‘Tell me about yourself,’ he said.
Lizzie looked up at him with an expression of patent surprise. ‘Do you really want to know?’ she asked, and he gave a little laugh.
‘Actually, yes. I’ve worked with you for two years. I should know a little about you.’
Lizzie raised her eyebrows, still sceptical. Still afraid. Yet hoping…
Hoping so much.
‘I thought it was your policy not to know,’ she said, and shrugged. ‘Besides, there isn’t much to tell. You’ve already gathered the facts from my CV. My life has consisted of working for you and taking care of my sister. End of story.’
‘What about your parents?’
‘They died in a car accident ten years ago.’
‘When you were eighteen,’ Cormac clarified, and she nodded.
‘Yes…Dani was eight. She was an unexpected addition to our family.’
Cormac took another bite of chicken, chewed thoughtfully. ‘So what did you do when that happened?’
He actually sounded interested, Lizzie thought with disbelief. Caring. As if he wanted to know her as a person, and not just a willing body. ‘I got my secretarial qualifications,’ she said. ‘Then I went to work for an architectural firm, Simon and Lester. Then I started working for you.’
‘Was there no money when your parents died?’ he asked. ‘A life-insurance policy of some sort?’
‘A small one,’ Lizzie replied. ‘Enough to take my course, and pay off the mortgage on the house. Then I needed to work.’
‘It must have been very hard,’ he said quietly. ‘Going it alone.’
Lizzie stopped, her fork halfway to her mouth, her eyes suddenly, stupidly filled with tears. Why was he so understanding now? Why was he saying all the right things, when she wanted to keep her distance, keep herself safe…now?
Why?
Could she trust it?
‘Yes,’ she said, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘It was.’
‘Had you been planning to go to university?’ Cormac asked. ‘Eighteen…You must have given up your place if you were.’
‘Yes,’ Lizzie said, her throat raw and aching, ‘I did.’ How had he guessed? How did he know?
Cormac gazed at her for a moment, and there was an understanding in his eyes that Lizzie had never seen before. ‘What were you going to study?’
‘Graphic design.’
He nodded slowly, and they didn’t speak for a few minutes. Lizzie concentrated on her food. Cormac’s gently probing questions had brought back the old sorrow, regret for lost dreams. Yet she’d done the right thing. There had never been any question of that.
‘I suppose there were no relatives to help out?’ Cormac surmised. ‘Or to take Dani?’
‘No one was going to take Dani from me,’ Lizzie said sharply. ‘And anyway there wasn’t anyone. My parents were elderly; they had Dani and me late in life. Our only relative is a rather dotty aunt we see on occasion.’
‘So it was just you,’ Cormac concluded quietly, and his tone made Lizzie want to fidget. He sounded as if he understood something about herself that she could only guess at.
‘Me and Dani,’ she corrected, and he nodded.
‘Except now Dani’s at university and it really is just you.’
She blinked, and then blinked again, horrified to find herself near tears. She opened her mouth to say something bright and brisk about new opportunities and second chances, but nothing came out.
Nothing at all.
‘You’ve done very well,’ Cormac said gently, ‘haven’t you? Even if no one has ever told you so.’
Lizzie tried to smile. She tried, but she didn’t quite make it. She stared down at her half-finished plate instead. Don’t, she thought. Don’t act as if you understand me, as if you like me, if you don’t mean it.
