A tap on the open door drew her eyes upward. Conrad stood in the void as if conjured from her thoughts. The man before her was no trick of the imagination or hallucination. His solidity—his existence and presence here—ignited some spark deep in her soul.
When she felt the flames within her, she knew the time for the affair had expired.
She was interested in him on so many levels beyond just the sexual and that made her vulnerable. She could get hurt. By indulging in these dates over the past few weeks, she’d opened herself up for pain.
He leaned a shoulder on the door frame, his hands surprisingly empty of any gift. Not that she needed presents. But she couldn’t help but wonder. Was he easing off the romance?
“Hello,” she said, staying behind her desk, moving two files around as if she was busy and not just sitting around daydreaming about him.
“You’ve been avoiding my calls.” His expression was inscrutable. But his words were crystal clear.
“Could you close the door? I don’t want to broadcast my personal life at work.” She waited until he stepped into her office and sealed them alone together inside. She held up the two folders. “I’ve been swamped. But everything’s in place for the event.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” He rounded her desk, but didn’t touch her, just leaned against the window.
Guilt pinched. She wasn’t being fair to him. She stood, flattening her hands to his chest and giving him a welcoming kiss.
A kiss that seared her to her toes and threatened to weaken her resolve to give herself time to sort through her feelings. She smoothed his lapels. “Things have been intense between us.”
A half smile twitched at his mouth, but didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad to hear you admit that.”
Drawing in a shaky breath, she searched for the words to make him understand how this was tearing her up inside. “I just needed some space to get my thoughts together.”
“And did you intend to at least tell me that rather than just ignoring my calls?” The first hints of anger clenched his jaw.
She braced her shoulders, anxiety tightening her chest. “I’ve never lied to you about where I stand. You knew from the start that I’m not ready for a serious relationship.”
“You’re too busy lying to yourself,” he shot back.
Anxiety turned to anger. How dare he patronize her and her concerns.
Her hands fell from his chest. “That’s not fair.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “But it’s true.”
“No, no... You don’t get to talk to me that way.” She held up a hand, putting arm’s length distance between them. Away from him and temptation. “But if we’re going there, then what about you? You play at being a father to your nieces and nephews because it saves you having to commit to something that might actually be a risk to your heart.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, his blue eyes snapping. “Sounds like you have me all figured out. Why are you so afraid of an affair with me if you’re certain I’m never going to commit? Or was that part of the draw? No risk to your heart? And as a bonus, I come with this great big family you always wanted growing up.”
She gasped, pain slicing through her. “How dare you use what I shared about my ex and my childhood against me.”
Her past rose like a monster from the bay. A nightmare where ghosts wandered. She could taste years of loneliness on her tongue. Feel the weariness settle in her bones and joints.
She recalled the time when everything she owned collapsed into a small pink backpack. The time in fourth grade when the most popular boy in junior high laughed at her because she didn’t have parents to talk at career day. And yes, her upbringing had made her all too vulnerable to her ex-husband’s false charms and empty promises of family.
Pain threatened to steal her resolve to stand up for herself as she did her best to shove down the memory of shuffling from foster home to foster home.
“I’m only calling it as I see it.” The anger eased from his face, and he shook his head, sighing with frustration. “You spout off about getting help and moving on and yet you won’t take your own advice.”
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she would be damned if she would break down and cry in front of him. “If I’m so broken, then you’re better off without me.” She strode to the door and opened it, gesturing out into the hall. “Just go. Get out of my office.”
She stood stone still. Unflinching, with an apparent resolve she didn’t come close to feeling.
He searched her expression silently for so long, she thought he might not leave. Just when she was about to weaken and say something, he nodded tightly. He strode across the office and out the door, angling through, careful not to so much as brush her.
The silence after he left was deafening, the weight of what had just happened sweeping over her in the aftermath. Numb, she let the door close behind him, unwilling to let anyone see her like this. Her legs folded and she sank into a chair, stunned at the depth of her anger. Her grief. Her pain over having pushed Conrad out of her life.
She wanted to trust what they had together. She wanted to believe that a real relationship was possible for her, but she didn’t know how to reconcile her own past. He’d been uncannily correct in that regard. She felt like a hypocrite, touting the benefits of therapy to deal with such a monumental issue when she couldn’t get past her own ghosts.
Unable to fight back the tears, she let them flow. How had things gotten out of control so quickly? Sure, she’d given herself a couple of days apart to get her emotions under control. She’d thought she was making progress, until today when she kept running into Steeles and Mikkelsons at every turn.
And it wasn’t likely to get much better with their active role in charitable endeavors at the hospital. If she hadn’t just changed jobs, she would have seriously considered a move. Even now she found herself considering it. There was a time she’d thought her job was everything. Yet...it didn’t feel like nearly enough.
And now she had nothing else left.
* * *
Conrad couldn’t believe how badly he’d mismanaged the confrontation with Felicity. Everything he’d planned to say had flown out of his head. So much for being the rational businessman. But nothing about his feelings for Felicity was rational.
Their fight had gutted him, leaving him shaken and clueless on how to fix things. He wanted to believe the break wasn’t permanent, but Felicity had been wary from the start. And she’d been pulling away for days.
His drive to cool down landed him on the road to his brother’s house. A sign that Felicity was right about his using Jack’s family as a substitute for having one of his own? There may have been some truth to that.
As he turned the corner to Jack’s driveway, he lowered the radio. A classic rock song’s guitar riff faded in favor of the distinctive crunch of tires on hardened snow and gravel.
If he was honest with himself, he’d been on edge after taking the gift to Everett. All the talk with Felicity about having children came flooding back. He’d genuinely thought he was okay with his decision not to become a parent. Now? If he couldn’t have a family with her...
The thought threatened to swamp him. He pushed it aside, trying his damnedest not to think about the woman who meant everything to him.
Hopefully hanging out with his brother and the horses would provide the distraction he needed so desperately right now.
Pulling through the security gate, he spotted his brother outside the barn and shifted his SUV into four-wheel drive. Alongside the pasture fence, he put his vehicle into Park.
Jack’s barn mirrored the rustic mansion, reminiscent of a log cabin. The facade of the interlocking wood panels seemed to reflect the red hues of the setting Alaskan sun.
Stepping out into the compacted snow, Conrad yanked his gloves from the passenger seat. The
sun grew heavy in the horizon, beginning to sink behind the trees and mountain line across the lake. Shrugging his coat on, he walked through the snow, moving toward his brother, who was wearing a puffy winter coat, focused on the horses playing in the pasture.
Conrad pulled on the gloves, fingers thankful for the reprieve from the quickly dropping temperature.
When Conrad was about ten feet out, Jack turned around. A vague surprise danced in his brother’s half smile.
Jack nodded, his black Stetson obscuring his brother’s normally inquisitive eyes. “What brings you out this way?”
Two feed buckets jutted from the snow, dinner for the horses that currently cantered in the white pasture. Abacus, a bay quarter horse, circled wildly around a lone pine tree at the center of the turnout. He let out a bellowing whinny that reverberated across the property.
Conrad stuffed his gloved hands into the pockets of his jacket as a gust of wind rolled off the bay. “Just at loose ends and thought I’d swing by.”
“Uh-huh,” Jack said even though his face was clear that he wasn’t buying it. Still, he stayed silent, waiting.
He offered his brother one of the pails of feed. Conrad grabbed the red bucket, following Jack to the feeding troughs. They plowed through the snow. Silent except for the sudden attention of Abacus and his paint counterpart, Willow.
The horses circled, galloping for the feeding area. The strong muscles of the horses working overtime as they raced each other. Almost like brothers, siblings engaged in play.
Conrad’s mind filled with images from decades ago, of Jack teaching him to ride when their parents had been too busy. He was lucky to have those memories and so many more. Yet he’d deliberately hurt Felicity by throwing it in her face that she didn’t have any such memories of her own.
He felt like a selfish ass—for what he’d said to Felicity and for bothering his brother when Jack had heavy burdens.
“How are you doing with all the Breanna mess?” Conrad inspected the feed in his bucket, knowing his brother didn’t buy that he was telling the whole story or that he’d come to talk about Breanna.
Jack glanced over at Conrad, pouring the feed in Abacus’s feeding trough. “I’m fine. Jeannie and I have contacted a counselor to help us through. I’ve been leaning on you too much and that’s not fair to you.”
Conrad nodded, dumping the contents of his bucket into Willow’s trough. Going through the motions of feeding the horses only proved to him how empty his life was. “I want to be here for you. I’m your brother.”
The two horses broke their gallop, relaxing into an enthusiastic trot. Ears perked forward, excited for their evening meal.
“And I want to be here for you. So let me.” Jack stroked the paint’s neck. Willow snorted into his food, chomping loudly. “Now tell me. What really brought you here?”
Conrad hadn’t intended to burden his brother, but Jack’s face showed he wouldn’t back down.
And Conrad was confused as hell, to say the least, and he could use his brother’s feedback. The man had somehow managed to have two good marriages when Conrad hadn’t been able to manage one. “I’ve screwed up.”
“What happened?”
The fight with Felicity flooded his mind again, her every word and his own unguarded responses. “Felicity gave me my walking papers.”
On instinct, Conrad reached out to touch Abacus’s neck. The bay looked up from his food, stretched his long neck, leaning over the fence so Conrad could scratch him. The horse’s tongue hung out to the side as Conrad tried to find comfort in the silken coat. His usual ritual wasn’t cutting it today. The ache over losing Felicity still consumed him.
“I’m sorry to hear that. You two seemed like a great couple. Any hope this will blow over?”
Abacus chuffed, returning to his food. “She was pretty clear.” And he’d bungled the whole conversation. He rubbed the kink in the back of his neck. “Her ex-husband really did a number on her.”
Guilt flashed through him because he’d just done a number of his own, throwing her past in her face.
“Like your ex did a number on you,” Jack said.
“Worse.” And he felt guilty as hell for using what she’d shared against her. He prided himself on being a better man than that. He’d lost his mind in the exchange. Lashed out at her in the most unproductive way.
Jack grabbed the discarded feed buckets, stacking them together. “Must have been bad, then, since what happened to you kept you from committing for so long.”
His head snapped back. But he couldn’t deny the truth of what his brother had said. Conrad had allowed that one rejection to taint all his future relationships. How much worse it must be for Felicity with all she’d been through.
She’d been honest with him about her wary heart. And he’d pushed anyway. “You don’t pull any punches.”
“We’re brothers. You’ve always been there for me, and I’m trying to be better about being there for you.” Jack clapped a hand on Conrad’s shoulder, squeezing. “Jeannie and I took Felicity’s advice and contacted the counselor she recommended. So you don’t need to worry about me. I’m grateful for all you’ve done. Now, it’s time for you to have your own life.”
Felicity had spoken with Jack and Jeannie? She was doing more for his family than he was, and she hadn’t said a word. More guilt stung him.
Having devoured their meal, the horses waited at the gate. Abacus pawed the snow-covered earth, digging a trench with his front right hoof.
Jack tossed one of the halters and lead lines at Conrad. He caught it, the action as natural and familiar as breathing. How many times had they done this routine over the years?
Conrad thought about Felicity’s words again about using Jack’s family as a substitute for his own. As a way to protect his heart.
And it was past time he accepted there was truth in that.
For the first time in two decades, he allowed himself to want that future. With Felicity.
“What if I can’t win her back?”
“What happens if you don’t try?”
Fair statement. But that didn’t help Conrad with the how. “What do you suggest I do? I’ve romanced the hell out of her.”
“I’m sure you have,” Jack said.
Conrad followed his brother, securing Abacus in a halter. They moved back toward the barn, the horses eager to be out of the cold.
“Just like you did with all the other women you’ve had affairs with over the years.”
“She’s different,” Conrad said without hesitation, the truth of that resonating deep in his soul. He led Abacus into the stall, unhooked the halter and gave the horse a pat between the ears.
His brother, who had finished putting Willow into the neighboring stall, appeared at the gate. “Then why are you treating her the same? Tell the woman that you love her.”
The obvious truth of his brother’s simple advice broadsided Conrad.
His time with Felicity had been about more than romance and sex. He was mesmerized by her intelligence and compassion. The confident way she faced life, whether it was at work or riding a horse. Everything about her called to him at a soul-deep level.
Somehow, Felicity had slipped under his radar and stolen his heart.
He was completely in love with her.
Now he had to convince her he was worthy of her trust.
Eleven
Felicity wished she could blame her exhaustion on prepping for the party. However, even though she had worked herself into the ground getting this hospital dinner under way, her lack of sleep came from a broken heart.
And in this ethereal, romantic landscape with the memory garden full of flowers and twinkling lights in the trees?
It made her heart cinch, balking under the pressure of hopes and whims she had done her best to smother to keep herself safe. Futile efforts, t
hough, she realized, as she gazed up at the elaborate centerpiece. Cherry blossoms with pink tea roses weighed heavily from the center of the table, making the glass-enclosed space seem like a fairy garden, filled with possibilities.
Except Felicity felt only a pang of regret as she smoothed the white shimmery tablecloth in front of her.
Two days had passed since her argument with Conrad, and her sadness only intensified, especially when she’d seen him this afternoon as she’d finalized the last of the setup. Thankfully there had been enough traffic with the caterers and florists to help her keep her distance.
The event was going off without a hitch, and she should be celebrating. She swirled a glass of sparkling wine, taking in the flickering lights strung from the ceiling, which gave the appearance of nested constellations.
Slow, sensual piano chords melted under the roaring conversation among guests.
As she leaned back in her chair, her eyes wandered to the boughs of pink and white flowers blanketing the stage where Ada Joy Powers would offer her soulful crooning after the keynote speech that should be starting soon.
Dinner had passed over her lips. The blackened salmon, rich mashed potatoes and vegetable medley as nondescript as water even though the caterer was without peer and her dining companions raved. Food simply lost its appeal as her heart sank further, her emotions taking up all the space in her mind. Replacing her hunger with nausea and dizziness.
Felicity did her best to smile at her tablemates, offer polite conversation. Words left the aftertaste of ash, and the longer she stayed at this event, the more the lump in her throat swelled, her chest tightened. Maintaining a smile of neutrality took all her effort.
It seemed like she had to actively remind herself not to cry every few minutes. She paid such attention to her own internal mantra she barely noticed her waiters dressed in crisp white uniforms clearing her plate, bringing her dessert.
The event moved forward.
Felicity felt stuck in the moment of her fight with Conrad. Forced to replay the scene in her mind again. And again.
The Billionaire Renegade Page 14
