Stroke of Luck

She didn’t want to think about being there with Maurice. She didn’t want to think about how she’d cried herself to sleep last night, his betrayal searing through her.

She didn’t want to think at all.

Quinn opened the door and led her inside. Her eyes widened as she glanced around.

The other suite had been luxurious and grand, with leather furniture, plants, flower arrangements, and beautiful décor. But this one went far beyond that. It had the same gorgeous furniture and décor, but it was much larger.

Her jaw dropped at the sight of the private swimming pool that was part indoors and part outdoors. There was a rock waterfall built into the wall that trickled into the pool. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, she could see a stunning garden terrace.

Maurice had been ticked off when they hadn’t been able to get the best penthouse at the hotel, especially annoyed that his powerful influence did nothing to sway the hotel manager to bump the people who had booked it already. Maurice wasn’t used to people saying no to him.

April had known that meant whoever had booked this suite had a larger fortune and more influence than Maurice. Never would she have imagined that person would be Quinn.

“You’ve come a long way from college,” she said as she glanced around. “Your business must be doing well. I’m glad things worked out for you. You certainly deserve it.”

He sat down on the couch, his arms stretched across the back.

“Really? And why do you say that?”

She walked to the bar and sat on one of the tall stools.

“You were extremely focused when you were in grad school. You pursued your studies nonstop, intensely determined to succeed. In school and in life.”

He frowned. “Is that a comment on how I didn’t spend enough time with you when we were dating?”

Her stomach tightened. “No. Of course not. I admired your dedication.”

It was true. But it had also been the major reason she’d left him. She would never lay the blame on him for their breakup, though.

“But not enough to stick with me? Why take a chance on me when Maurice already had money and success?”

“I didn’t care about that.”

He snorted and stood up, then poured himself a drink from a crystal decanter on the bar.

“You? Didn’t care about money? That’s a laugh.”

She stood up and walked to the window, staring out at the skyline without actually seeing it.

How could she argue with him? She knew deep inside that Maurice’s money had been part of the attraction. Not because she was a gold digger but because she craved stability. Security. She’d never had that in her life.

But she would never marry a man just for his money. Maurice had been charming and attentive, and he’d made her feel special.

“Quinn, I didn’t leave you because Maurice was rich.”

“Then why did you leave?”

She frowned. “I loved how passionate you were about your thesis. And I understood why you put your work first. I didn’t want to be a distraction.”

His eyebrow arched. “A distraction? Are you kidding me?” He strolled toward her, his eyes flashing. “I cared about my work, but what I was passionate about was you. What I wanted was you.”

He stood beside her now, anger and frustration blazing in his eyes, but she could see the even deeper pain beneath.

“You’d never been with a man before, and I respected that. You wanted to keep yourself for the right man. So I held back and gave you the time you wanted.”

She could barely breathe, remembering how patient and loving he’d been.

He gaze flicked to hers, searching. “I thought I was that man.” His gaze turned somber. “Did I hold back too much? Did you really not see—”