She’d gotten a quick call from Nana when they reached the Canadian border. They wouldn’t have turned around without reason and she hadn’t given them one.
It could possibly be her father. Rich was known to drop in without warning, but his unexpected visits were as infrequent as the planned ones.
She had friends, but one result of her upbringing and moving to the big city from a small Alaskan town was that she didn’t invite many of them to her home. That had only gotten more acute the last year as she’d dated a man who could define circumspect with his social life.
Leaving the popcorn to finish, she crossed to the intercom box and pressed the communication button. “Yes.”
“It is me, Gillian. Let me up.”
Maks’s voice.
Her fist came up to her chest, between her breasts, and she gulped in air. How could such a small thing wreak such devastation?
But his voice had the power to take her to her knees. Literally. It was only leaning onto the wall that kept her upright.
What was he doing here? In ten weeks, he hadn’t so much as texted her to see if she was all right.
And now he showed up at her door?
“Gillian?” His voice sounded tinny through the intercom. “Are you there?”
“Yes,” she croaked, her mouth and throat dry.
“You haven’t pushed the release for the door.”
And he was surprised?
She swallowed and took a breath, trying to ease the tightness in her chest. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.”
A week, or even two after he’d left, she would have welcomed those words. “It’s been three months.”
“Not quite. Ten weeks.”
So, he’d tracked the time. It didn’t mean anything. “What do you want, Maks?”
“Let me up and I will tell you.”
“I don’t want to see you.” She’d just gotten to the point where she could go to sleep without a physical ache to be with him.
And that didn’t happen every night.
“I will make it all right.”
He didn’t love her. Didn’t want her. Thought she was defective. How did he make that okay? “No.”
“Gillian.”
A small voice laced with that horrible emotion hope whispered to her that at least he was here now. This was better than her approaching him with news of her pregnancy and facing “duty driven” Maks. Wasn’t it?
There was only one way to find out.
It took more courage than she expected for her to give her tacit agreement to see him, but she was not weak.
She also wasn’t overjoyed to have Maks seeking access to her apartment. “You’ll have to keep it short, I’m tired.”
He didn’t reply and she didn’t expect him to. It wasn’t the empty admonishment it might have been before she rang security on him the last time he’d been to her apartment.
Gillian pressed the button to open the downstairs security door before very pointedly returning to the kitchen.
She’d showered after getting home from work and hadn’t bothered to do anything but pull her hair into a ponytail and slip into her favorite pajamas since.
For the first time since meeting Maks, Gillian didn’t care that she wasn’t looking her best to see him. She wasn’t about to go rushing around trying to look gorgeous for a man who had ejected her from his life with the efficiency and power of a missile launcher.
She was pouring the popcorn into a bowl when the doorbell rang.
Carrying the bowl, she made her way to the apartment’s front door. She only had to take three deep breaths and give herself one very stern reminder she was in control here before opening it.
Maks looked a little less than his immaculate self, too. His almost black hair was messy, like he’d been running his fingers through it. He’d lost his tie between the office and her apartment and he’d skipped his second shave of the day, leaving the five o’clock shadow to darken his cheeks and jaw.
Ten weeks ago, she would have found that incredibly sexy. She also would have taken his state as proof he felt comfortable enough to be himself in her presence.
Now, it worried her a little.
Had their separation been hard on him, too? She had a very hard time believing he was here in hopes of getting back together. As far as he knew, nothing had changed.
She wasn’t making any assumptions this time, one way or another, though. Whatever he wanted, whatever he was feeling, he’d have to come out and say it. In words that could not be mistaken to mean something else.
If he was looking for reconciliation, however, she had no idea how she would respond.
Things had changed for her, unequivocally, but one thing hadn’t. He didn’t love her.
Her stomach roiled with stress and she forced herself to take shallow breaths so she did not retch.
The one saving grace to this situation was that he didn’t know she was pregnant. That, at least, wasn’t on the table to complicate things further.
He reached out as if to touch her. “You’re pale.”
“I’m tired.” She stepped back, not allowing that casual connection to happen.
It wouldn’t be good for her campaign to get over him.
“So you said.” He almost seemed lost for words.
“Come inside.”
He nodded, the movement jerky, and followed her into the living room. She set the popcorn bowl on the table next to the glass of milk she’d poured herself earlier. “Would you like something to drink?”
He nodded and then shook his head. “You shouldn’t be drinking.”
“Because I’m tired?” She shrugged. “I’m not going to fall asleep on you. Besides, I’m drinking milk.”
“Good. That’s great.”
She didn’t respond. Seeing him was stirring memories and feelings that brought pain and hope, both in debilitating degrees.
The hope scared her the most. A lot of people didn’t realize just how truly terrifying hope could be. Particularly for some
one whose hopes had been dashed as many times as hers had been.
There was a cost for believing in someone bound to disappoint. Someone like her charismatic, famous and perennially distanced father.
Deciding a more relaxed Maks would be better for both of them, she crossed to her small bar and poured him a whiskey.
He was standing right behind her when she turned to hand it to him, making her jump back.
He reached out to grab her. “Careful!”
“Don’t have a conniption.” Once again, she jerked out of the path of his potential touch. “I wasn’t going to fall and I wouldn’t have been startled if you hadn’t been hulking behind me. Take your drink and sit down.”
He frowned, but then nodded almost meekly and did just that.
Gillian wasn’t exactly sure what to do with an awkward, meek Maks. Maybe it was her pregnancy hormones, but she wasn’t feeling any big urges to make him more comfortable, either.
She took her own seat, grabbing a handful of popcorn and starting to eat it one kernel at a time. Her stomach needed settling and she wasn’t standing on ceremony to do it.
“Is that your dinner?” Maks asked, sounding truly appalled.
“Yes.”
“But that is hardly adequate nourishment.”
“It’s fine.”
“But…”
She rolled her eyes. “Did you come here to talk to me about my eating habits or something else? News of our former relationship hasn’t leaked to the press, has it?” she asked, the prospect a truly dismaying one.
“No.”
“Good.”
“Yes, that would complicate matters in ways we do not need at the present.”
“What matters? I’m not sure why you’re here, Maks.”
“Aren’t you?”
She wanted to believe it was because the prince couldn’t live without her, but somehow Gillian knew that particular fairy tale wasn’t for her. “No.”
“We have a very delicate situation and if we do not handle it correctly, it will blow up in our faces.”
“The delicate situation of…”
“You can drop the pretense. I know.”