“You think I don’t realize that?”
Her eyes filmed over. “I’m so terribly sorry. I can’t imagine the agony you’re going through.”
“Not agony, Rachel. I’ve had three years to come to terms with her death.”
After a long silence he said, “The kind you’re talking about happened when Paulette lost touch with reality.”
He rubbed the side of his jaw where she could see the shadow of his beard.
“It must have been devastating.”
She’d had a month for his revelations to sink in. He’d been living through a horrific experience.
“It was.”
He shed his suit jacket and tie. They landed on the end of the bed. She watched him undo the top buttons of his shirt, as if he needed more freedom to breathe.
“Another man I could have dealt with. But her mental state…”
His dark glance pierced through to her soul.
“Rachel—I swear it was never my intention to keep secrets from you.”
“I believe you,” she murmured, grabbing the chair for support.
But there was one truth Rachel couldn’t get past. Luc had loved Paulette. He’d wanted her back enough to wait three years for her to wake up. He’d paid his hard-earned money to fight Paulette’s parents in court for the right to keep the machines on.
He and Paulette would still be happily married if their baby hadn’t died. You didn’t get over a love like theirs.
That was the kind of love Rachel wanted for herself. But she would never find it here.
Maybe in New York.
Maybe not.
She’d lost her heart to Luc. How could she ever give it to anyone else?
But it wasn’t the same for him. He’d been at his lowest ebb when Rachel had begged him to love her. It had been a moment out of time that shouldn’t have happened.
How unfair was life that she could get pregnant during one careless night of passion outside the bonds of marriage? And his poor wife had been forced to wait three years for a baby they had both wanted so desperately, and ultimately lost.
She felt strong hands close over her shoulders. “You’ve listened to me long enough. Now I need to know what was so urgent, you came all the way from New York to see me.”
“How did you know I’d moved there?”
“Someone at the restaurant told me.”
“Dad?”
“No,” he declared in a note of finality. “What’s in New York?”
Grasping for a plausible answer, she said, “The rest of my life.”
He turned her around so she was forced to face him. More lines marred his striking features.
“There’s nothing left for you in England with your grandfather gone. Is that it?” he asked in a silky voice.
His dark eyes threw out a probing challenge that made her shiver.