Jeannie could feel the goodbye in the air as Reginald opened the car door after what felt like an unnaturally long pause. Probably giving them time to set their clothing to rights.
Thoughtful man, that Reginald. She hoped Robert gave him a raise.
But he needn’t have worried because after the most amazing orgasm of her entire life—which was saying something because the one last week had been pretty damn spectacular—Robert had gently lifted her off him and then buttoned up. In complete silence.
Yep. The goodbye was definitely in the air.
Robert helped her out of the limo and then, with an unbelievable, “Thank you, Reginald,” he swept Jeannie right off her feet. Literally.
“Robert!” she shrieked as he tossed her into the air a little, adjusting his hold.
“Your shoes aren’t made for sand,” he said as if that was all the explanation necessary.
“Honestly,” she laughed, but she linked her arms around his neck and let her head rest on his shoulder.
He hummed. He sounded happy. Please, she thought, let him be happy.
Without another word, he carried her down the beach. She didn’t know where they were, but far north of Chicago proper, she guessed. She could see the orange glow of the city to the south but out over the lake, all she could see were...
“Stars,” she breathed. Hundreds of them. Millions, maybe.
“Yes,” he agreed in that Robert way as if he had personally decreed there would be stars and lo, the universe had made it happen.
He walked on, his pace slow as he ruined his shiny tuxedo shoes in the sand. “Where are we going?”
“Away from the light,” he replied, as cryptic as ever.
The night sky stretched out vast and endless before her. The moon was nowhere to be seen, so the only way to differentiate between the water and the sky was the twinkling of light.
“It’s beautiful,” she sighed. So many stars—if only she had that many wishes.
But she’d already gotten what she’d asked for, hadn’t she? More than that. She had a nanny and a maid and a reasonably good grip on how to care for Melissa. She had a lawyer who was working on a settlement from the hospital to make sure Melissa would always be cared for.
And she’d had the most amazing, complicated, messy, perfect man in Chicago at her mercy.
No, she wouldn’t wish on another star. If there was one thing she’d learned over the years, it was not to push her luck.
After long, quiet minutes, Robert set her down on her feet. She slid her hand into his and leaned against his shoulder. A breeze flowed off the lake and despite the warm summer temperature, she shivered. It was always cooler by the lake.
“Here,” he said gruffly, removing his jacket and draping it over her shoulders.
“Thank you.” The superfine wool smelled like him, dark and spicy with just a hint of champagne and orange on top. The smell of them together. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her tight.
Her knees began to shake. “Robert?” She wanted to ask before she lost her nerve.
“Hmm?”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“No.” He didn’t even hesitate. The word was out like a gunshot and it made her heart ache for him.
Then he leaned down and pressed his cheek against her hair. “At least...not yet.”
Dammit. He was going to make this painful, wasn’t he?
“What about you?” he asked when she failed to come up with anything to say.
Oh, how their situations had reversed. “A few times.”
“What happened?”
She shrugged. “I was young and foolish. Sometimes...” She had to swallow to get around the rock that had suddenly appeared in her throat. “Sometimes you fall in love with the wrong person at the right time and you don’t realize it until times change. And sometimes...”
She blinked against her stinging eyes and focused on the stars. Their light, hopeful and bright against the darkest of times, wavered. Must be the breeze.
“And sometimes,” he finished for her, his voice thoughtful, “you fall in love with the right person at the wrong time.”
She had to blink some more. Damned wind.
“I don’t want this to be the wrong time,” she said. Demanded. “This isn’t the wrong time. And you’re not the wrong person.”
“No,” he finally said.
But she knew him too well, didn’t she? She heard the pain and confusion and loss and love in his voice, all blurred together in that one syllable. Two measly letters were all it took to break her heart, apparently.
“Robert, listen,” she began, desperate to hold on to him. They’d only just gotten started! There was so much more between them. So much more than a perfect Manhattan and a fake lady. “I’ll—”
“No.” Another two measly letters. She was really beginning to hate that syllable. He looked down at her, cupping her cheek in his strong hand. “I won’t ask it of you.”
“Please,” she whispered. “We can—”
He just shook his head and then he leaned down and kissed her.
He kissed her goodbye.
“Ask me,” she murmured against his ear. “Please, Robert. Just ask.”
He stared down at her, his forehead resting against hers. “I have to keep you safe, Jeannie. I won’t let any harm come to you or Melissa.”
“You won’t. I know you won’t.”
When he didn’t reply to that, she snapped. To hell with his rules. She dug her fingers into his hair and dragged her lips across his, biting and sucking and showing him how much more there could be between them, if only he’d trust her.
If only he’d trust himself.
He was breathing hard when he broke the kiss. He pulled her hands away from his head and then swept her back into his arms. The walk back was silent and awful and far, far too short because he’d made up his mind and who was she to try and change it? She was nobody.
She was just his bartender. A pretend lady, a willing accomplice, a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to lean on. Nothing more.
She would not cry. Wind be darned.
Eventually, they made it back to where Reginald and the limo were waiting. This time Robert opened her door for her and handed her inside. But instead of climbing in after her, he shut the door.
“Robert,” she almost shouted, feeling frantic. Was he not even going to give her a proper goodbye?
Of course not, because talking was not Dr. Robert Wyatt’s strong suit. Instead, he heard the muffled sound of Reginald getting behind the wheel and, even more distant, Robert saying, “Take her home.”
“Yes, sir.”
The car started and she rolled down the window. “Robert!” she yelled. “I’ll wait.” The car started to move. “I’ll be waiting!” she shouted out the window.
The car turned and the breeze blew so she couldn’t be sure but she thought she heard him say, “Sailboat.”
Damn him.
But then, what had she expected?
“You’re back early. How was your evening?” Maja said from the recliner where Melissa was asleep on her chest. The whole place smelled like lemons and every surface shone like the top of the Chrysler Building.
That was because of Robert.
The right man at the wrong time.
“Fine,” Jeannie said dully. Because, really, it was the wrong time. He was about to go to war with his father, and Jeannie had to figure out how to be a mother for the rest of her life and she couldn’t expect Robert to foot the bill for polished woodwork and overnight nannies forever.
Maja’s grandmotherly face wrinkled in concern. “Is everything all right, dear?”
“Fine,” Jeannie repeated. She stared down at her sandals and the Valentino dress that had cost God only knew how much, at the heavy diamond pendant that had definitely cost too much.
Robert was the right man and she was hopelessly in love with him.
But Dr. Robert Wyatt, billionaire bachelor and noted surgeon—he was the wrong man. For someone like her. Because she could pretend to fit into his world, but they both knew she didn’t belong there.
God, she hated goodbyes.
“Dear?”
Jeannie looked up with a start to see Maja standing in front of her. “I’ve decided to go back to work. In two weeks. I don’t know how long you’re going to be able to watch Melissa for me but—” she swallowed “—if you could at least help me line up alternative childcare before you go. Something I could afford.”
Because she couldn’t afford Maja or Rona or Reginald or any of them.
Maja looked tired in the dim light. “I’m paid for three months, which leaves us quite a bit of time to make plans.” She sighed again, disappointment on her face. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with your handsome doctor.”
But he’d never been hers, had he? They had been like...this outfit. Like Lady Daphne FitzRoy. An illusion.
“So am I,” she said, the tears starting to fall. “So am I.”