they dusted off their feet and used a water bottle for their impromptu cleanup. When Jonathan started the engine, he glanced sideways at her. “Dessert and coffee before we head back?”
Yes, her heart cried. Yes!
She shook her head. “It’s been a long day. I’d better not.”
“Of course.” He paused. “I think it goes without saying, but you must promise not to talk to anyone about my condition. No one. If the truth were to come out, our stock prices might plummet. Until I have a plan in place to handle the gossip and the fallout, there can’t be a whisper that anything is wrong.”
“I understand. You have my word.”
They barely spoke during the drive back. Without the beauty of the ocean and the beach to distract them, the enormity of Jonathan’s diagnosis filled her with aching compassion and raw regret. How could this be happening? It wasn’t fair. Not for him, not for his family, not for anyone.
But whoever said life was fair?
When they reached the Tarleton house, she exited the vehicle and stood beside her own car. In the unflattering glow of the security light beneath the house, Jonathan’s expression was grim, his skin sallow.
He seemed so damned brave and alone. She couldn’t leave him like this.
Rounding the car, she went to him and slid her arms around his waist. He wasn’t her boss at this moment. He was a man nearing a perilous cliff, a human being with little more than sheer grit and determination to help him face the days ahead.
At first, he was unresponsive. Maybe her emotion was only making things worse. Finally, a great shudder racked his frame. He buried his face in her hair and clung to her tightly.
Her tears wet his shirt. “I’m so sorry, Jonathan. So very sorry.”
They stood there like that for long moments. It might have been a minute or five or ten.
At last he straightened. He used his thumb to catch a tear on her lower lashes. “Don’t cry for me, Lizzy. I’d rather it be me than someone else. Hell, I probably deserve it.”
She stepped back reluctantly and stared up at him. “Don’t joke,” she said. “There’s nothing remotely funny about this situation.”
His smile was both weary and beautiful. “Isn’t that what they say? I have to laugh to keep from crying?”
“I can’t imagine you crying. You’re tough and resourceful. Very macho, in fact.”
“Is that how you see me?”
She shrugged. “You’ve been my boss. I only looked at you one way.”
“And now?”
Was this some kind of trick question?
She hesitated. “I know you’re human, Jonathan. Just like the rest of us. But I never wanted to test that theory. I’d rather think of you as a superhero than admit the truth right now.”
His wince echoed her honesty. “You and me both. This won’t be easy for me. And I’m not talking about the physical part. The prospect of not being in control scares the hell out of me.”
“I’ll be here, Jonathan. But you have to tell your family. They’ll be so hurt if you don’t and they find out another way.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll tell them. I swear. I just need a little time to wrap my head around this.”
“Have you thought about seeing a counselor or a priest...someone like that? It might help.”
He cupped her cheek in one big palm, his touch burning her skin and sending shivers of sensation in every direction. “I have you, Lisette. That will have to do.”
Lisette cried herself to sleep. And then had nightmares. Waking at dawn was a relief for half a second until the truth came rushing back with a vengeance. Jonathan was dying.
Thank God, she hadn’t turned in her resignation before he told her about his illness. He needed her. She was determined to give him all the love and care she could muster...but without letting on that she had loved him for a long time. That news would make things worse. She knew it instinctively.
The only reason he had asked for her help was because she was an outsider he could trust. So—not family.
Walking into the downtown office that morning was anticlimactic. Jonathan was on a conference call with someone in England. The entire floor was abuzz with the usual ebb and flow of projects and activities.
Lisette loved working for Tarleton Shipping. As hard as it had been to make the decision to leave, it was impossible to imagine this place without Jonathan. She pressed a hand to her stomach where nervous butterflies performed a tango.
Last night at the beach house had changed everything.
Somehow, she was supposed to carry on as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but at the same time she had to monitor Jonathan’s behavior and be ready to step in whenever he needed her. She wondered if he was regretting that he had told her the truth.
Yesterday had been an extraordinarily hard time for him. Hearing news like that would rattle anyone. The fact that Lisette had shown up at his house in the wake of his crisis might have had something to do with him asking her to take on a role that was so personal and critical.
If she knew him well—and she did—it was probably best to pretend nothing had changed. It was going to be very hard not to hover and treat him like he was sick. She couldn’t help feeling responsible, especially because he was keeping his family in the dark for now.
The day spun by, entirely unremarkable in its ordinariness. People came and went. Meetings happened. Jonathan whirled from one thing to the next, barely speaking to her in the interim.
She could almost believe that last night was a dream.
Occasionally, though, she caught his eye across the room, and a connection quivered between them. The feeling of intimacy startled her. He had let her in on something intensely personal. There would be no going back from this.
She had craved a personal connection with Jonathan. But not at this price.
How was she going to face the days ahead?
On her lunch hour, her friend Rebekah coaxed her out of the building. “Let’s walk,” she said. “It’s not quite so hot today, and I’ve been wanting to try that new restaurant over near the market.”
There was nothing unusual about the situation. Still, Lisette felt Jonathan’s gaze searing her back as she exited the executive suite of offices. Did he expect her to dance attendance on him 24/7?
Rebekah called her out on her odd mood while they ate. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, frowning. “You’ve barely said a word. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m
