“But aren’t you angry? They were accusing you as well as me.”
He grimaced and turned away. “Anne, I’m not as innocent as you. It’s not like I’ve never slept with a woman before. Or a secretary for that matter.” Then he turned back with a fierce expression. “But Henri’s no better than me, and I’ve changed a lot in recent years.”
She breathed in and out slowly, contemplating his words. “I guess this is what it feels like to lose your naivety. It had to happen sooner or later, but I don’t like it.”
A myriad of emotions passed across his face, at least one of which was anger. Anne knew she couldn’t handle another confrontation.
“I’m leaving work in thirty minutes. Did you have something for me to do before I go?”
“So, you haven’t changed your mind?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm.
She looked up, trying to appear calm and confident, though she wanted to run away and hide.
“I really want to make everyone happy, but I can’t do that. So instead, I’m going to keep my promises as much as possible. That’ll have to do.”
Gherring nodded and returned to his office. When the door shut behind him with a quiet click, it resounded in her head like the closing of a tomb.
Anne made it home safely with plenty of time to spare. She planned to take a taxi to the airport, leaving at three thirty to allow plenty of time to get to the airport and check in before her international flight. She double-checked her packing list and added some snacks for the trip. Then she heard a sharp knock at her apartment door.
She thought it must be Rayna, letting her know her cab was here. Her cell phone must be turned off. “Coming!” she exclaimed, as she hurried to open the door.
Steven Gherring stood outside the door. His clear blue eyes burned into her and held her motionless.
“What… what’re you doing here?”
“Anne…” His voice broke. “Don’t go to Paris.”
She stared at him, speechless for a moment. Then she turned around and walked back in the apartment and picked up her suitcases, one in each hand. She faced him again. “We’ve been through this, Mr. Gherring. I have to go. I promised Henri, and he needs me right now.”
“Has Henri been a perfect gentleman?”
“What?”
“You said I’d been a perfect gentleman. Has Henri been a perfect gentleman?”
“I don’t know… I guess so. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter—I have to go to Paris, even if he hasn’t been a perfect gentleman.” She still stood unmoving, suitcases in hand.
He crossed the floor in four steps to stand in front of her. “Don’t go. Please. I don’t want you to go.”
She strained her neck to look up at him. He was so close to her she could feel the heat radiating from his body. She opened her mouth to reply, but her mind was foggy. She couldn’t form a coherent thought.
Suddenly, he grabbed both of her arms with his hands. His voice was gravely and deep. “Anne—”
He pressed his lips to hers, claiming her mouth with his. This was no gentle supplication, but a heavy, needy demand. She froze, shocked by his incursion. And then the heat began to spread through her body, warming her deep inside. Her bags fell from her fingers, and her hands rose of their own accord to press against his firm chest. She felt his heart pounding under her touch. Her own heart was answering, fluttering like a captured bird.
Her lips softened, and she heard a small whimper. Was that her? He groaned in response and deepened his kiss. His breathing was quick and heavy. He moved his hands to embrace her and crushed her against him. She clung to him as his mouth continued to assault her sense. Sparks rippled down every nerve.
Abruptly, a strident song rang out from Anne’s cell phone, and they sprung apart, breathing heavily. “I… I should get that. It’s Charlie.”
He nodded, clamping his eyes shut and rubbing frustrated fingers through his hair.
She rummaged through her purse to find her phone. “Hello? Charlie?”
“Mom! Mom! Grandpa… He was in a car wreck! I don’t know how bad, but they called me from the hospital! He was coming to pick me up and…” Charlie sobbed. “Mom, I don’t know! I don’t know! They’re in surgery! Emily’s going! I’m getting a taxi! But we don’t know—I think it’s bad!” She sobbed again. “Mom—”
“I’m coming! I’m coming as soon as I can get a flight! I’m coming, baby! Let me hang up and call the airline. I love you, baby.”
She hung up the phone and fell sobbing into Steven’s arms. Her mind was flooded with memories of the Thanksgiving fifteen years before, when a similar phone call had ended her fairytale life. She was consumed with terror and began to shake even as he held her.