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High-Powered, Hot-Blooded

Page 48

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“I wish I could say the same, but I haven’t. I know I was wrong and I know I’ll have to earn back your trust. That’s why I’m here. I still love you, Duncan. I never stopped. I want us to have a second chance.”

He heard the words, let them sink into his skin, then waited. Was there any part of him interested? Did a fiber or a cell long to be with her again? Were old scars still tender?

No, he thought with relief. There was nothing. Not a hint of longing or curiosity. She was nothing more than someone he used to know.

He started for the door. “Sorry. Not interested.”

Annie sat next to Duncan in his car. After he’d gone off with Valentina, she’d circled the ballroom, smiling at anyone who had made contact with her. He’d returned to her side about ten minutes later and had said they should leave.

So much for the romantic night in the hotel room, she thought sadly.

Duncan hadn’t spoken while they’d waited for the valet to bring around his car. Now, aware that he was driving to her place rather than his, she resigned herself to a very brief ending to their evening. If the girls weren’t home, they would be shortly. Inviting him in wouldn’t give them any time alone. She carefully removed the earrings, then the necklace and passed both back to him.

“Thank you for letting me wear these tonight.”

He took them and dropped them into his suit-jacket pocket. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry we didn’t stay longer. After Valentina showed up…” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “She’s back to make trouble.”

What she really wanted to ask was “What did she say?” but lacked the courage, so instead she said, “How do you know?”

“She’s breathing. I didn’t know what kind of a scene she would make. Leaving seemed easier. I don’t want you in the middle of anything.”

“I appreciate that.” She cleared her throat. “It must have been a shock, seeing her after all this time. It’s been what? Three years?”

He nodded. “I could have gone a lot longer without having to deal with her again.”

“You’re going to be dealing with her?”

“I hope not, but my luck isn’t that good. She wants something and she won’t stop until she’s made every attempt to get it.”

Wanted something? As in money…or did Valentina want Duncan back? Annie told herself she should be happy if that was what was going on. A marriage repaired was a good thing. Assuming Valentina was sincere.

Annie told herself she was mature enough, in love enough, to want what was best for Duncan. The ache in her chest and the need to cry were beside the fact.

Duncan pulled up in front of her small house. “The party tomorrow will be easier. It’s smaller. Quieter. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

He barely glanced at her as he spoke, making her realize he wasn’t even going to kiss her good-night. Holding in the hurt, she forced herself to smile as she got out of the car.

“Good night, Duncan. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

She barely had time to close the passenger door before he gunned the engine and drove off. She stood on the sidewalk, watching his taillights disappear.

Telling herself he hadn’t broken the rules didn’t make breathing any less painful. And wondering if he was returning to the party to be with Valentina only made her wish she could go back in time a couple of hours and keep the other woman from ever speaking to Duncan in the first place. Not that she could change the past the two of them shared. A past that was very likely going to have a big impact on her present.

“Okay, so owning a bank is even better than I thought,” Annie said the following night as Duncan pulled up behind a Rolls, in front of a large Beverly Hills estate. “Didn’t bankers take a financial hit in the past year or so?”

“Not all of them.”

It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Duncan had dropped her off the previous evening. She’d spent about twenty of them trying to convince herself that even if she wasn’t fine, she could pretend. Acting might not be her gift, but she would work at faking it. He’d been his normal self when he’d arrived to pick her up, so maybe last night was like a bad dream—something that would fade in the light of day.


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