Keep moving, Jayne thought as she and Tristan entered the suite. If she slowed down to think about what she was doing—what they were about to do—she might stop altogether.
And she didn’t want to stop.
She never wanted this night to end. Euphoria bubbled over. She felt giddy, as if her smile was permanently fixed upon her face. Her pulse leaped with excitement.
Jayne floated to the sofa. She could barely feel her feet touch the carpet. The air seemed charged with electricity, with attraction. The anticipation was almost unbearable.
Her heart stuttered with love and nerves and desire.
She reached the sofa.
Neutral territory.
Her insides tingled. She felt breathless.
Tristan stood on the other side of the living room, his eyes, dark and intent, never leaving her for a moment.
He was so handsome, so strong, so caring.
A dizzying shiver of wanting coursed through her. She fought an overwhelming need to be next to him. Soon, very soon.
Holding his gaze, Jayne sat.
He took a step forward, then stopped. “You want something to drink?”
Her heart fluttered wildly.
Had he forgotten his comment about the sofa? How could he forget?
No, she realized. A warm glow settled the wild beating of her heart. He was trying to do the right thing. He was a man of his word. Her feelings for him intensified. How could she not love him for looking out for her?
She gave him a shaky smile. “Not a drink.”
Come here. Her eyes implored him. Don’t make me say it.
“Well, then,” he said. “Maybe we should call it a night.”
Oh, no. That wasn’t how she wanted tonight to end.
Jayne couldn’t say what she wanted, but she could show him.
With unfamiliar bravado, she tapped the cushion next to her.
He didn’t move, didn’t take the hint.
Her heart raced uncomfortably.
She loved him. She wanted this. She wanted him.
What was she doing wrong?
Maybe she should try what had worked in the elevator.
Jayne rose, crossed the room and stood in front of him. He was so tall and his shoulders so wide.
A sense of urgency drove her. Her body ached for his touch.
She placed her palms on his chest.
Heat emanated from him. His heart pounded. She felt his breath hitch.
Good, he was turned on, too. Her pulse-rate skyrocketed.
She ran her hands up his chest until they reached his shoulders, put her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his hard chest. She waited for him to pull her into an embrace.
The muscles beneath her palms tensed. “What are you doing, Jayne?”
He still hadn’t wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m trying to seduce you,” she admitted flirtatiously. “But I don’t seem to be getting very far.”
“You’re doing great, but…” His warm breath fanned her face. “Why are you doing it? I can’t give you what you need.”
All she needed was him. Him, and the feeling of being loved, valued, cherished that he gave her.
Her confidence spiraled upward. “All I need right now is a little cooperation.”
He laughed, and for a moment she thought everything would be all right.
And then he took her arms from around his neck and pressed a tender kiss in each palm. “Jayne…you deserve more than cooperation.”
He knew her dreams. She’d told him what she had wanted with Rich. What she hadn’t told Tristan was that what she felt for him, with him, was so much greater than what she’d ever felt for Rich.
“I’m not expecting any promises,” she said sincerely.
“I can’t be a suburban husband.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m not asking for anything.” She glanced over Tristan’s shoulder at her open bedroom door. “Well, except…”
Her cheeks burned at her brazenness, at the implication.
“I can’t,” he said firmly.
She looked at him confused. “Can’t?”
The silence stretched between them.
He stared at her as if he were photographing her with his eyes, but then broke the contact. He kissed each of her fingers—ten perfect, heart-wrenching kisses—and let go of her hands.
He glanced at the door to his bedroom and sucked in a long breath. The unfamiliar vulnerability in his eyes squeezed her heart. “This isn’t what you want.”
Well, no. She wanted everything. The magic and forever. She wanted him in her life for always. But if she couldn’t have always she would gladly take tonight.
Jayne raised her chin. “Yes, it is.”
“You don’t really know me.”
“Yes, I do,” she countered. But his words stirred old doubts about her judgment. As much to reassure herself as him, she said, “I know enough. You’re kind. You’re giving. You’ve helped me get a life. You’ve shown me what’s possible and how I can make my dreams come true. My friends like you, too.”
“Sweetheart, I’m overwhelmed. Flattered. But—”
“You’re looking out for me,” she said. “That’s all I need to know. I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
A chill shivered down her spine. Could she have misread him that badly? The way she’d misjudged Rich when he’d claimed he wanted to marry her? “I thought you wanted this, too?”
“Not now.”
His rejection stung, but she refused to let go of her hopes for the evening, her trust in him.
“I don’t understand.” She was lost in a confusing haze of feelings and desire. His words, his abrupt change of mood, made no sense. Maybe he just needed reassurance. “You were honest about what you want. I’m fine with that. I don’t need forever. I’m ready to accept your terms. Here. Now.”
A vein throbbed at his jaw. “Jayne…”
Why wasn’t he taking her into his arms and kissing her? She couldn’t believe she was throwing herself at him and he didn’t want her. Doubts swirled, gnawing at her confidence. “What’s wrong with you? What wrong with me?”
“It’s not you. You’re perfect,” he said gently. “It’s me, Jayne.”
“It’s you I want.”
“You deserve more than me.”
A beat passed. And another.
She couldn’t take it any longer. She didn’t want to beg. “Tristan…”
His features tightened. His gaze clouded. “I’m the one who sent the text message telling you to go to Rich’s apartment for a surprise.”
Her mouth gaped. She felt an instant squeezing hurt. Jayne took a step back. “What?”
She waited for Tristan to say something—anything.
Instead, he strode to the bar and poured her the drink she hadn’t needed before. “Rich wouldn’t tell you about him and Deidre and he made me promise I wouldn’t, either. So I had to find another way to make sure you found out before the wedding.”
“No.” Jayne’s knees quivered. She staggered back until she bumped into a chair. She sat before her legs buckled. “You’re just saying that. I don’t know why, but…”
Tristan gave her a glass of red wine.
Her hands trembled so badly she had to set the glass on the end table.
“It’s true,” Tristan said.
True.
The word seared her heart. “How…?”
“I was waiting for Rich in the dressing room of the tuxedo shop when I saw your name flash on the display screen of his cell. I knew he was seeing Deidre later, so I took your call to be a sign and sent you the text message.”
Emotion tightened her throat. “I never understood why Rich felt the need to orchestrate me finding out that way. It was so cruel, so heartless. Wondering why he’d planned the breakup that way kept me awake for weeks. Now I realize it wasn’t him at all.”
“If I had it to do over again—” Tristan shoved his hands in his pockets “—I would do it differently.”
The words crashed down on her. Not just the words. The evening. Her hopes.
Tears pricked her eyes, but she kept them in check.
How could this be happening?
Jayne loved Tristan. She had trusted him. She had felt safe with him. She had believed he would be good to her. But she’d been wrong. Dead wrong. “So would I.”
“I know you’re upset.”
Grief ripped through her. She wanted to throw up. “You have no idea how I feel right now.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” Red stained his tanned face. “What I did was cruel, but not heartless. I was desperate to stop the wedding. I knew you’d be miserable if you married Rich.”
“You’re Rich’s best friend.” She struggled to hold herself together. She felt as if she would lose it any second. She squared her shoulders. “Why did you care about me?”
“Because I liked you.”
“You didn’t know me.”
“We had this same discussion that day I returned your postcard,” he reminded her. Jayne remembered.
You don’t like me.
I like you.
No, you don’t.
Yes, I do.
The only reason you’re here is for Grace.
Grace asked me to stop by, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here.
Jayne’s mind reeled. She tried to force her confused emotions into order so she could understand. “But you were Rich’s best man.”
“Let me show you.” Tristan removed his wallet, pulled out a photograph and handed it to her. “See yourself through my lens. Through my eyes.”
The picture was of her. She wore a pink blouse and skirt. Pink rose blooms surrounded her.
“I saw you standing there and that was it. I fell. Hard.” The honesty in his voice cut through her pain and confusion. “I took your picture, lots of them. This one is my favorite.”
Jayne stared at the photograph. It was as if the camera had worked magic. The lighting and soft focus made her look so pretty.
Not the camera. Tristan had made her look that way.
Something clicked in her mind. Her heart drummed. She looked from the picture to him. “You liked me?”
Tristan nodded. “From that first day. The very first moment, really. But then I found out you were marrying my best friend, and I was his best man, his best friend, so I had to keep my distance.”
It all made sense now. Tristan’s glares had been a disguise. His silence had been his shield. But that knowledge didn’t ease the pain in her heart.
A hot tear slipped from the corner of her eye. She wiped it away.
He continued. “When I learned Rich was cheating on you, I couldn’t stand to look you in the eye.”
But Tristan was looking her in the eye now, with a combination of regret and affection that splintered her broken heart even more.
She blinked back the rest of the tears stinging her eyes and threatening to fall. “All I see is a woman who’s been fooled again by a man she trusted—by her own foolish hopes and bad judgment.”
“Jayne—”
“I trusted you.” Her voice cracked.
“Trust yourself.”
No, she couldn’t. And that, Jayne realized with sudden clarity, hurt most of all.
Her judgment wasn’t simply bad. It was totally off. Totally wrong. Just as it had been with her father. Just as it had been with Rich.
And once more her heart would pay the price.
A lump burned in her throat. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
The muscle ticked in Tristan’s jaw again. “Because you wanted to put the past behind you. And I just wanted you.”
He had tried to tell her, she remembered now. She pressed her fingers to her aching forehead. She didn’t know what to think, what to say.
The silence intensified the tension between them.
Jayne’s chest hurt. She could barely breathe. Emotion and hurt raged inside her.
She let go of the photograph. It floated to the carpet.
And I just wanted you.
“Too late for that,” she said in a choked voice. “I could never love someone, trust myself to someone, who could hurt me like that—who could make me question my own judgment again.”
“I understand.”
And he did, Jayne realized with another tear of her heart. That was why he had stopped things from going too far tonight.
“For what it’s worth,” Tristan said quietly, “I’m sorry. You’ll never know how sorry I am.”
His words ripped at her heart. At her soul.
“Me, too,” she admitted, her voice as raw as her heart. “But sorry isn’t going to change anything.”
Tristan sat up all night. Waiting for something. The dawn. A sign. Jayne.
But she’d retreated into her bedroom and locked the door.
He hadn’t seen her.
Not that seeing her would have made any difference.
Sorry isn’t going to change anything.
He stood at the window of their suite, watching the brilliant desert sunrise take over the lights of the strip, feeling cold and empty. He couldn’t justify what he’d done to her or to himself. He wasn’t going to be like Rich and make excuses.
Tristan had made his own choices. He would accept the consequences.
But he wanted to know she was okay.
He stared as the new day broke, surrounded by lonely silence, assailed by regret.
As time passed his concern over Jayne increased, until he couldn’t stand still any longer. He paced across the living room.
Tristan noticed Jayne’s picture lying on the carpet. He picked it up and stared at the image. His chest constricted.
No reason to keep this any longer.
He walked to the trashcan. His hand hovered over it, ready to drop the picture inside. But his fingers wouldn’t let go.
Truth was, he didn’t want to let go.
He put the picture back in his wallet.
Tristan glanced at the digital clock. Eight o’clock.
He resumed his pacing.
Shouldn’t she be up by now? Unless she’d had as restless a night as he had?
Last night he’d heard voices—a phone call to one of her girlfriends, perhaps?—and other sounds, until the room had fallen silent around four in the morning.
Should he check on her? Should he call her friends?
The lock on Jayne’s door clicked.
He froze.
As the door opened, Jayne appeared.
She’d been crying. Her red and puffy eyes made his heart hurt even more. The dark circles under her eyes and pale skin told him she hadn’t slept much, either.
A heaviness settled in the center of his chest.
He’d done this to her.
Tristan felt like an even bigger jerk.
She held her packed bag in her hand.
“You’re leaving?” he said hoarsely. Jayne nodded.
Don’t go, he thought.
But what had he expected her to do? He’d hurt her in the worst possible way. He couldn’t offer her any reason to stay. She deserved better.
“When?” he asked.
“After lunch.” Her voice sounded strained. “I’m going to spend some time with my friends first.”
Tristan hated how she wouldn’t look him in the eyes. His already aching heart seemed to split open. He wanted to make things better between them. He wanted her to want him again. He wanted her to love him. Instead, all he could do was help her leave.
“I’ll call a cab to take you to the airport when you’re ready,” he said. “My father’s plane will be waiting for you.”
Tristan would call the pilot so he could make the necessary preparations.
Her lower lip quivered slightly. “No.”
The one word spoke volumes. Disappointment weighed down on him. “Then I’ll buy you a plane ticket.”
She inhaled deeply. “I’ll buy my own plane ticket.”
“You can’t afford it.”
The knuckles of the hand holding onto her bag turned white. “If I can afford a down payment on a house, I can afford a damn plane ticket.”
He admired her flash of spirit. He fought the urge to go to her, to take her in his arms and make this all better. But she didn’t want that.
She didn’t want him.
Tristan stiffened. “I don’t want you spending your money. I got you here. I’ll get you home.”
She met his gaze.
The raw hurt he saw in her eyes made him grab the back of the chair. He loved her. He hadn’t wanted it to turn out this way. His fingers dug into the upholstery.
“I’m tired of you telling me what I want and what I need.” Her voice never wavered. “I can take care of myself.”
“Let me,” he offered sincerely. “Let me give you this much.”
“You can’t give me what I need.”
Tristan flinched. She’d tossed his words back at him. Rightly so, he realized.
With her bag in hand, she walked quickly across the living room to the front door.
He wanted to stop her, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.
She deserved her exit line, at least.
Jayne opened the door.
Wait, Tristan wanted to yell.
She didn’t glance back. She didn’t even say goodbye.
Instead Jayne Cavendish stepped out of the suite and out of his life.
“Are you sure you want to leave today?” Alex sat on the floor of her penthouse apartment in front of a coffee table covered with dishes: fruit kabobs, pastries, bagels, yogurt and quiche. “We can get you another room to stay in.”
“Or you can stay with one of us,” Molly suggested.
Serena nodded. “We have plenty of room at our place.”
“Thanks, but I want to go home.” Jayne forced the words through her raw throat. Her heart ached. The sight of all that food made her churning stomach lurch. Couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Must be… No. She struggled to keep her voice steady. “I’ll be back soon, though. We need to throw Molly a baby shower.”
“Don’t think of me right now.” Molly sat on the couch. Rocky, her Jack Russell terrier, slept at her feet. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting bigger.”
Everyone laughed.
Jayne pasted a smile on her stiff lips.
“Wyatt’s made arrangements for you to fly back on the McKendrick’s jet,” Alex said.
“Thank you so much.”
“It needs to be in Los Angeles on Monday anyway, so it’s no big deal.” Alex held a mug of coffee. “There’s a car to take you to the airport whenever you’re ready.”
Jayne swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I really appreciate all you’re doing for me.”
“You don’t have to put on a front, Jayne,” Serena said softly. “It’s okay to cry.”
“It is, Jayne.” Alex handed over the box of unused tissues. “We’re well stocked.”
She’d told them about what had happened with Tristan after the dinner at Sparkle. Her friends had offered her support, friendship, hugs and chocolate. She loved them so much.
“Thanks, but I cried buckets last night. I’m all cried out today.” Right now Jayne clung to a fragile thread of self-control. The endless wallowing and pity parties after her breakup with Rich had taken their toll not only on her emotions but also her health. “I don’t want a repeat performance of the hysterics after Rich.”
Even though this hurts more.
She hadn’t been engaged to Tristan, but she loved him.
Had loved him. Had thought she loved him. She didn’t trust her own judgment anymore.
“Rich.” Serena groaned. “If it had been him last night, he would have slingshot your panties across the suite before you could blink.”
“Rich was a hound,” Alex said. “Even if he was your fiancé.”
“A hound and a liar,” Serena added.
Molly adjusted the pillow behind her back. “I guess the two men aren’t that different after all.”
“I liked Tristan,” Alex admitted. “Well, before he hurt you.”
“Jonas thought he was a nice guy,” Serena said.
Molly frowned. “Why are we saying nice things about Tristan? He hurt Jayne.”
Fairness compelled Jayne to speak. “Tristan was trying not to hurt me last night. Otherwise he would have taken advantage of the situation, of me.”
Alex and Serena exchanged glances over the coffee table.
Serena’s eyes darkened. “Sounds like you still have feelings for him.”
“I do,” Jayne admitted. “I thought I’d wake up this morning and feel differently, but I don’t. Still, I let my desire cloud my judgment. With Rich I wanted happily-ever-after. With Tristan I wanted love.”
Alex leaned forward. “If you love him—”
“We were never going to have a forever kind of relationship. That’s not what he’s looking for,” Jayne interrupted. She wasn’t supposed to have been looking for that, either. “Besides, he never told me he loved me.”
“Unlike Rich,” Molly said. “Didn’t he tell you that early on?”
“The third date,” Jayne answered. Rich had declared his love over and over again, but besides proposing he never had shown it. Tristan had never mentioned love, but his actions last night proved she meant something to him.
Her breath caught in her throat.
No, Tristan couldn’t love her. If he did, he would have said something.
The apartment door opened. Wyatt walked in with an envelope in his hand. “This was left at the front desk for Jayne.”
She took the envelope with a tentative hand. Her name was scrawled on the front in sharp, bold letters. She opened the flap with a mix of anticipation and dread.
“What does it say?” Serena asked.
Jayne removed the contents. “It’s a plane ticket. A first-class plane ticket to San Diego.”
Molly rubbed her lower back. “That’s impressive.”
“He wants to take care of you, Jayne,” Wyatt said.
Even after she’d asked him not to, Tristan was still trying to take care of her. Jayne noticed a yellow Post-It note stuck to the ticket.
You deserve more.
The words stabbed at her broken heart. She fought to control her swirling emotions.
She reread the three words. You deserve more.
This time the words didn’t bother her as much. She reread the note a third time. You deserve more.
She remembered what he had said to her.
You deserve more than cooperation. You deserve more than me. You deserve more.
Maybe Tristan was right. Maybe she did deserve more.
Maybe it was time for her to finally get what she deserved.
Jayne straightened.
She just needed to figure out what that might be.