The Redemption (Filthy Rich Americans 4)

“Again, wow.” I’d never experienced such polarizing feelings. On one hand, it was kind of flattering, but on the other, hadn’t he just, like, broken the law? In my mind, he wasn’t really my boss, but in the eyes of the law he was, and he’d objectified me sexually.

“Does what I said bother you?” His blue eyes sharpened as they evaluated my surprise.

Well, well, well.

I wasn’t the only one testing boundaries, and if he wanted to use me like that, did I really care? I picked up my knife and cut another piece of my chicken. “No, it doesn’t bother me.”

I liked his displeased look the best, but his pleased one? It was a close second.

“Good,” he said. “Have you made any progress with Mrs. Gabbard?”

I swallowed my bite and leaned forward, whispering it like a closely guarded secret. “I passed her your note before recess and—good news—she checked the box for yes!”

Macalister’s jaw clenched in irritation, accentuating his high cheekbones. “Excuse me?”

I dropped the schoolgirl charade. “I had lunch with Evangeline this afternoon. She was receptive to your offer, so I’ve booked you a table at Marquee for tomorrow night. She’ll meet you there at eight.”

“Good,” he answered.

In the quiet that followed, the atmosphere in the room began to shift, and an unnatural tension took hold in his shoulders.

I hesitated. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” He tried to ignore whatever was bothering him but failed terribly. Macalister didn’t give an inch or show weakness if he could help it, but he sighed. “I’m remembering how tedious dating can be. I do not enjoy making small talk.”

Was this his way of telling me he sucked at it? Because that wasn’t news to me. “Yeah, I’m going to suggest you don’t try to make small talk.” There was far too much in his life that was a minefield. “Keep the conversation focused on her. Evangeline does a lot of charity work and sits on a bunch of boards. Talk about that.” I gave him a bright, wide smile. “I mean, a man who listens and doesn’t talk about himself non-stop? Careful. She might just fall in love with you.”

Something suspiciously like sadness curled in his striking eyes but was blinked away. “I certainly hope not.”

Was he thinking about Marist? I picked up the napkin in my lap and set it on the table beside my plate, wanting to direct his focus elsewhere. “Don’t you think Evangeline is pretty?”

She wasn’t as beautiful as Alice, but Evangeline was still stunning, and Macalister’s second wife had been a snow queen. Gorgeously cold. Evangeline was warm and genuine, and in my opinion, a nice balance to Macalister’s brusque personality.

Plus, she was almost fifty yet barely looked forty. They’d make a great couple.

Jealousy pinched inside me, like a rubber band being snapped in the center of my chest. God, I was ridiculous.

“Yes,” he said, “I suppose she’s attractive.”

What a glowing endorsement. “Not young enough for you?”

Shit.

Shit! Why had I just said that? Macalister’s neck flushed, and his eyes went black. “You’re straying dangerously close to the line I asked you not to cross.”

“You’re right,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry. Please forget I said that.”

“Perhaps you weren’t aware that both my wives were only a few years younger than I was when we married.”

Embarrassment drove my gaze to the tabletop. Why did I care, anyway? Half the men in this town had trophy wives. But my offhanded comment must have upset him enough that his guard temporarily went down or he felt the need to defend himself.

“Marist was an outlier,” he continued in a bitter tone. “She did not make sense, yet no amount of effort could make me see reason.”

I lifted my chin and stared at him in surprise. He’d just scolded me for hinting at her, and now he was volunteering this information? It felt like he wanted me to ask. “Have you? Seen reason?”

I wanted him to be over her, because I understood how hard it was to long for someone you could never have. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

His expression was resigned. “I’m not proud of how long it took me to see it, but yes. If I’d continued to pursue her, it would have destroyed whatever relationship I had left with my sons, and I’d made her a marked woman. If I didn’t stop, it was only a matter of time before I lost her too.”

Marked woman? I was so confused. “What?”

Macalister drew in a deep breath, and when his intense eyes filled with emotion, the world around us ceased. His voice was unsure, like it was one he’d barely used in his lifetime and didn’t trust it to work. “I’ve loved exactly three women in my life. The first two are dead, and the last nearly died twice. And I’m responsible for it all.”