Carrick had plans to leave work early today since Sadie was flying in from Richmond—her return delayed by two long days—and they’d agreed to dinner at his place. He’d already had Marsha arrange for delivery of oysters, champagne and beef Wellington from Geraint’s, an exclusive caterer who provided meals to crazies like him who needed special food at the last minute.
He planned on opening a bottle of champagne Krug Clos d’Ambonnay 1995, despite the fact that Sadie wouldn’t enjoy more than a sip of the four-thousand-dollar bottle. He’d been keeping the bottle for a special occasion but Sadie was, in herself, a special occasion.
And possibly the best thing that happened to him in, well, forever.
And he’d missed her, probably more than he should. He’d considered making another trip to Richmond to see her, but he got bogged down at work and while his partners might overlook one quick, non-work-related trip in the jet, they might object to a second one in less than a week.
But damn, he’d been tempted to personally cover the costs and just go.
Because, despite only knowing each other for a brief period, he’d missed waking up to her, rolling over and pulling her body into his and dropping back off to sleep. Or rolling over and not dropping back to sleep.
Carrick shut down his laptop and closed the lid. Something had changed between him and Sadie; something had fundamentally shifted and he wanted it defined, explained, to pull whatever they were feeling into the light. This wasn’t love, not yet, but it was close. And he wanted to know if he was the only one along for the ride.
Carrick stood and placed his hand on the back of his chair and looked out his window, smiling at the weak sunlight trying to penetrate the low clouds. The sky reminded him of John La Farge’s Snow Storm...hell, the woman even had him relating everything he saw back to art.
Carrick leaned his shoulder into the glass and stared down, his thoughts a million miles away. He was crazy about Sadie; he had been since the first time she walked into his office in that Bohemian dress and boots. She challenged him, intrigued and fascinated him and, yes, he was completely obsessed with her body...
And that was even before he threw in the added complication of her carrying his child...
Was he falling for her too fast? Was this another woman who was going to break his heart? Few knew him well enough to know that under his corporate persona was a bit of a romantic—a man who’d always wanted a family, a wife, someone he could call his own.
He’d thought he’d missed his chance when he divorced Tamlyn, mostly because he refused to put himself in the position of allowing another woman to hurt him. He’d tried to keep his defenses up with Sadie but she’d snuck her way into his life, filling up those cold and empty spaces in his heart and life with her sharp mind and vivacious personality.
Carrick knew Sadie saw him clearly, that she was no longer influenced by the stories she’d heard via Tamlyn and Beth. She knew him...he could see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch, in the way she handed herself over to him, trusting him to not only pleasure her, but to also keep her safe and treat her well. He no longer heard doubt in her voice and hadn’t seen that speculative look in her eyes for weeks.
It had taken a little time, but he was convinced that Sadie, with no explanation from him, now saw him for the man he was.
And that man was crazy about her.
And, God, he hoped she was feeling the same.
Either way, he needed to know. If they were both slipping into something deeper, more meaningful, then they could plan to raise their child together, two parents in one house and hopefully, in time, his ring on her finger.
But if he was the only one who was feeling a little mushy, he needed to find out now so he could shut down any growing feelings. And he would shut them down, without her suspecting a damn thing. He’d never beg her to love him.
Love, not freely given, wasn’t worth a damn.
But they were at a crossroads, and one of them had to take the first step, to open the dialogue. And, yeah, if a super-expensive bottle of Krug made that conversation easier, he wasn’t going to think about the four-thousand-dollar price tag.
Sadie was worth it.
Sadie was worth...
Close to everything.
Carrick heard the brief knock on his door and looked around to see his younger brother Finn in the open doorway, his dark blond hair as shaggy as always. Finn was dressed in his usual uniform of designer jeans and a black button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up above his wrists.
Unlike Carrick and Ronan, who were in the public eye, Finn spent most of his time in the basement of the building, which he’d converted into an office-cum-library-cum-lab. His researchers shared an open-plan office on the next floor up, but the basement was Finn’s domain and they rarely disturbed him when he was holed up in his inner sanctum. Finn needed quiet and solitude to work effectively and since he was a genius at what he did—research and provenance and detecting—Carrick and Ronan left him alone.
Finn came up for air when he wanted to, and it was always a pleasure to spend time with his youngest brother.
Except for today, when he’d really wanted to get home early.
But because he was the CEO and Finn’s older brother, he waved Finn in. Finn immediately headed for the hidden bar fridge and pulled from it two bottles of water. He tossed one at Carrick, who snapped his hand around the bottle. He didn’t want water; he wanted Sadie and that champagne.
And that conversation.
Patience, Carrick. You have time...
“What’s up?”
Finn dropped his lanky body into one of his visitor’s chairs and gave a detailed but succinct progress report on where they stood on cataloging Isabel’s collection. Interesting, but a topic that could’ve waited until tomorrow.
“We are down to the last floor of Mounton House, which was where the servants lived.”
Carrick resisted the urge to look at his watch and forced the question out. “And the attic?”
“We still need to get into the attic, but I don’t hold much hope of finding anything of value up there. I think we’ve got everything of value already.”
“But you’re going to check, right?”
Finn gave him a look. “Of course I am.”
Okay, good. Carrick sent a longing look at his open door.
Finn rested his ankle on his opposite knee and rested his bottle on his thigh. “Isabel was the proud owner of a Manet, a Rothko and many Georgia O’Keeffes. There are some negatives by Ansel Adams and a rare jade bird from the Shang dynasty.”
Carrick could never remember the Chinese dynasties. “Which was when?”
“We estimate it to be from fifteen hundred years before Christ.”
Carrick whistled. Even in his business that was old.
“I’ve sent you an updated list of what we are selling,” Finn told him.
Carrick nodded his thanks and deliberately looked at his watch, knowing that Finn would take the hint. When Finn didn’t move, Carrick frowned. “Anything else, Finn? I’m trying to get out of here.”
“Are you seeing Sadie tonight?” Finn looked uncomfortable, and Carrick felt his heart thud, and not in a good way. His youngest brother was intensely private, a bit of a loner, and he hated people prying into his life. As a result, he never ever interfered in anyone else’s, and Carrick could count the times on one hand that Finn poked his nose where it didn’t belong.
“I am,” Carrick said.
Finn nodded, still looking unsure, another hint that he wasn’t happy with the direction of the conversation. “Okay. How goes the search for provenance on the potential Homer?”
“Sadie is on her way back from Richmond, and I’m hoping she has news.” Carrick rested his forearms on the back of his office chair and gave his brother a hard look. “Stop beating around the bush and ask me what you really want to ask me, Finn.”
“I was just wondering how you and Sadie are going to make it work, raising a child together when you are living on two different continents.”
Carrick frowned at him, not understanding his comment. “I’m not sure what you are getting at. While Sadie and I haven’t nailed down the details of how we are going to raise our kid, I did understand that we would be doing it together.”
“In Boston?”
“That’s where we live, Finn.”
“But she’s going back to Paris.”
Carrick swallowed the urge to laugh. He grinned and shook his head. “Nope, she has an apartment in Montparnasse but she’s relocating to Boston.”
Finn leaned forward, his expression radiating concern. “Did she tell you that or did you just assume that?”
He’d assumed that.
Carrick felt a hard, cold ball settle in his stomach. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his pants so Finn wouldn’t see them shaking. “Again, it’s not like you to beat around the bush, Finn.”
Finn rubbed the back of his neck, and Carrick saw that his discomfort was sky-high. “I feel like I am snitching, but the conversation took place in front of me. Nobody was trying to hide anything. But maybe I should go...it has nothing to do with me.”
God help him. “Spit it out, Finn.”
“Beth, your ex-sister-in—”
For the love of everything holy... “I know who Beth is, Finn.”
Finn’s uneasiness ratcheted up. “She dropped off some books I loaned Sadie and she was just about to leave when she took a call. She was in my office, standing on the other side of my desk so I couldn’t help listening in on her conversation. What she didn’t realize is that I am fluent in French.”
He was also fluent in German, Spanish and could converse in Mandarin and read Japanese. Finn had a gift for languages... And a gift for math, science and any type of learning and literature. Carrick just wished he didn’t love adrenaline as much as he loved books. He could do without knowing that his brother threw himself off buildings with just a parachute or dashed down steep passes and trails on a mountain bike.
You’re avoiding the issue, Murphy, trying to distract yourself.
Finn had stopped talking and Carrick knew he wouldn’t continue if Carrick didn’t encourage him to do so. He could just walk out of here, right now, and everything would be as it was before Finn opened his mouth.
But he knew himself well; not knowing would drive him nuts.
“Just tell me, goddammit.”
“Sadie is going back to France. I know how important it is to you to be a part of your child’s life, be a dad. How are you going to see your kid if she’s living in Paris?”
Carrick felt the punch to his heart, the fist squeezing his stomach. Finn had to be wrong, he told himself. “Why would you think she’s going back to Paris?”
Finn winced, his eyes sympathetic. “Why else would she be renewing the lease on her apartment in Montparnasse? Because Beth was talking to her landlord, and she asked him to courier her a new lease for signature.”
Carrick dug his fingers into his chair and stared at his brother, wanting him to pull his words back, to say he was joking, pulling a prank. When Finn just held his gaze, his eyes not showing a hint of amusement, Carrick accepted that his brother wasn’t yanking his chain.
Sadie was intending to go back to France when her contract with Murphy’s was over. Since she hadn’t spoken to him about living in France, nor even hinted at her plans, he was obviously not a factor in her decision.
Hurt, hot and sour, rolled over him.
What a surprise, he’d done it again. He’d fallen first, he’d fallen harder and, yet again, fallen for the wrong person. And he was obviously far closer to falling in love than he thought because he ached, dammit. Icy fingers clutched his heart and his stomach twisted itself into a knot.
When would he ever learn?
Sadie skipped up the steps to Carrick’s Beacon Hill house, her heart in her throat and bats in her stomach. She’d missed Carrick so much and the tender, funny messages they’d exchanged over the past few days—and the fact that he’d commandeered the company plane to spend the night with her—gave her hope that they’d turned a corner, that something was growing between them that was precious and special and...
Right.
Like Tab A that was designed to slip into Slot B, they fit.
Carrick would be an amazing partner, an incredible significant other and a brilliant father. As she’d come to learn, he was a good man. He worked hard, took care of his family, treated his staff with respect and, best of all, he was, she was sure, a little crazy about her.
Maybe also a little in love with her. Or was she jumping the gun? No, she’d seen the way he looked at her, with lust and amusement and tenderness and buckets of hope, and she wasn’t imagining a damn thing.
Sadie touched her belly, cradling her tummy, and closed her eyes to enjoy the surge of emotion coursing through her. Her baby was healthy, she was in love and she was pretty confident her love would be returned. Maybe not today but sometime...
Sometime soon...
Sadie lifted her hand to ring the doorbell and hesitated, remembering that just a few months before, love had been a concept she no longer believed in. She’d genuinely believed she would never be happy and hopeful again.
How silly she’d been...and, yeah, she owed Carrick for opening her up to love again. And maybe she’d been meant to marry Dennis, to experience the worst of love before she could appreciate what a good man looked like, how he acted.
Maybe she’d needed to howl and curse and feel like crap so that when the right man arrived, she could say, “Yes, this is right. This is who I’ve been waiting for.”
Maybe she’d needed to experience the bad so she could recognize the exceptional.
Because Carrick was exceptional, in and out of bed.
And talking about bed, she really hoped he liked the sexy lingerie she’d picked up in Richmond, a barely there number that enhanced rather than concealed, that tempted and tantalized. She was wearing jeans and an aqua cashmere thigh-length sweater, nice enough, but not terribly sexy so her lingerie should be a pleasant shock.
Although she doubted she’d keep it on for long.
Sadie grinned, the door opened and there he was...
Sadie, unable to help herself, flung herself into his arms, winding her arms around his neck and lifting her face for a kiss. But instead of ducking his head, Carrick placed his hands on her hips and lifted her off him to place her feet on the ground.
Sadie brushed her hair out of her eyes, looked up into his face and her smile faded. Something was wrong, she just knew it.
Sadie felt both boiling hot and icy cold, breathless and heartsore. Pain rolled through her body. She didn’t understand why, but she did know that her and Carrick’s relationship had taken a one-eighty and flipped upside down.
It was over. She knew that without him having to say one word.
But what could possibly have happened between now and his last text message at lunchtime? The words were burned into her brain she’d read it so often:
Hey, sweetheart, I’m going into a series of meetings this afternoon so might not respond immediately if you send me a message. But I’m thinking of you and can’t wait to see you later. Get some sleep on the plane. You’re going to need it because I intend keeping you awake for most of the night.
Sadie pulled a tremulous smile onto her face, hoping and praying she was wrong. She had to be wrong. “Hi.”
“Sadie.” Carrick shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit pants, and Sadie noted that he still wore his suit jacket and his tie was still perfectly knotted.
This was Carrick, the hard-assed CEO, not Carrick, her lover. “Everything okay?”
She knew it wasn’t, but she wasn’t going to go with her first impulse—to drop to her knees, wind her arms around his legs and beg him to tell him what she’d done wrong.
Because she hadn’t done anything wrong. She hadn’t had time to mess up.
“No.”
Sadie forced the words through her numb lips. “A little more information please.”
Carrick took his time answering her. “I think we are making a huge mistake continuing to sleep together. We’re not going to be a happy family. We’re not going to live together and raise our child together.”
Wow.
Sadie felt the punch of his words and she took a step back, trying to get away from the impact. His expression was implacable, but his eyes burned with fury. His hands, still in his pockets, were bunched into fists, and tension made the cords in his neck more prominent. Carrick was furious. Memories of another man’s face, and his vicious expression, tumbled over her. Falling back into that memory, she took another step back, needing to put space between her and the much bigger Carrick.
Which was ridiculous; this was Carrick, not Dennis. Carrick, no matter how angry he was, wouldn’t hurt her...knowing she was painting him by that other brush, she lowered her shoulders and told herself that she had nothing to fear—
“Jesus, you think I might hurt you?” Carrick roared.
Sadie winced. Of course, Carrick would pick up on her movements. He was an observant guy at the best of times and he paid her a lot of attention. “No—”
“I am not your ex!”
His words bounced off the walls of the hallway and echoed through the large house. Sadie lifted her hands, desperately looking for the right words. “I know you aren’t—”
“You haven’t changed your mind about me at all, have you?” Carrick demanded. It wasn’t a shout, but it wasn’t far off, either. Sadie stood up straighter and took a step closer, needing to show him that she wasn’t scared of him. She knew that he would never, ever hurt her physically.
Though he was doing a damn fine job of hurting her emotionally.
“Carrick, I—”
“You’re still judging me by what you heard from my ex-wife! And if that’s the case, why are you sleeping with me? What’s your angle?”
Sadie felt his verbal bullets piercing her heart. How had something so beautiful turned so ugly? What was happening here?
“I don’t have an angle! And I’m sleeping with you because I’m crazy about you. I can’t stop thinking about you. Hell, I think I’m in love with you!” Sadie shouted back. Okay, that was not the way she’d wanted to tell him that she loved him. She’d wanted it to be a tender moment, emotional, hot and sweet. A memory she’d carry with her for the rest of her life.
Well, she’d definitely remember this!
“How dare you tell me that you feel like that when I know you have no intention of sticking around, when you plan on taking my child away from me? I’m not going to let that happen, Sadie. I’ve lost too many people in my life for that to happen.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Sadie demanded. He wasn’t making any sense!
Carrick narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re going back to Paris. You’re renewing the lease on your apartment.”
“Why on earth would you think that?”
Carrick pulled his hands from his pockets and slapped them across his chest. Sadie saw the misery underneath the hurt and she fought the urge to throw herself into his arms, to soothe away his pain. But she was in pain, too, and she needed to take care of herself first.
“Beth dropped off some books with Finn and he overheard her talking to your landlord, making arrangements to renew your lease on your apartment. Why would you do that unless you were planning to run away? And why play games with me? Are you trying to get back at me for what your ex did to you? Or do you secretly believe Tamlyn and you want to punish me on her behalf?”
Wow. And she thought her marriage had messed her up? Carrick had her beat.
“I’m not going back to Paris. I’m not playing games. I don’t believe Tamlyn. Please believe me.”
She heard her pleading tone, but she didn’t care. She needed to get through to him. She couldn’t let him toss her—them—away.
But the fury in his eyes didn’t diminish and Sadie knew she’d lost. Carrick had found something to drive a wedge between them, and because he was terrified of getting hurt again, he was using it to split them apart. This was the first hurdle in their relationship and he hadn’t even tried to clear it. He’d just folded, choosing to believe the worst about her without getting her side of the story.
She didn’t know if she could fight his distrust; she didn’t know if she wanted to. She’d lived a life with a man where every day was a battle, where trust was a commodity he played with, that was dangled and removed, offered and rejected.
She wasn’t going to play that game. She’d rather walk away right now than subject herself to that again.
Sadie reached down and picked up her bag that had fallen to the floor. She hoisted it over her shoulder and stared at her feet, trying to get her brain to form the necessary words. Or, better yet, she could just leave...
But she’d done that with Dennis. She’d never stood up for herself; she’d been too scared. He’d bullied her into silence. She refused to be silent again.
“Can I talk?” she asked Carrick.
He nodded.
“Without interruption?” Sadie pressed the point.
He nodded, quickly and sharply.
“Thank you.” She had to remain calm; one of them should. And in her experience, calm words quietly stated had more impact than shouted words and turbulent emotion. Sadie gripped the handle of her bag and started to speak.
“You have a whole lot of nerve, Carrick Murphy. You wanted me to make up my own mind about you, without one single explanation about how and why your marriage ended. And that, by the way, is why I am with you, why I am ‘playing’ this game.” She made air quotes with her fingers.
“Because I trust you. Correction, I did trust you. I trusted you to treat me well. But you won’t trust me. I told you that we’d raise this child together, and while we haven’t had many discussions about the mechanics of that arrangement, I thought it was a solid understanding between us.”
She thought about the searches she’d done on houses, about the emails she’d sent to real estate agents the day before yesterday. “Up until fifteen minutes ago, I was rearranging my life so you could be a part of my and the baby’s lives.”
Sadie shook her fingers, trying not to let panic overwhelm her. “I could’ve just told you that I am having your child and that I’m going back to France to raise it and you can see him or her whenever you fly over. I didn’t do that. I had plans to move back to Boston so our child could spend more time with his or her father.”
Man, she felt gutted, stripped of everything that made her Sadie. But she had to get this out, no matter how hard it became. “I wanted to live in Boston because I also couldn’t imagine living a life not being close to you, seeing you often, hopefully turning this burning attraction we have into a lifelong love affair.”
Carrick opened his mouth to speak, but Sadie cut him off. He’d stated his case; it was her turn now.
“I’m not done. You wanted to mistrust me, Carrick, and you took the first opportunity to do that. I can’t live like that, not again. I was at the mercy of a man who I constantly begged to trust me, to trust us, but he played games with me. And you accusing me of playing games, well, that hurts. And you know what? I’d rather not play at all.”
Sadie hitched up the strap of her bag and, with her heart breaking, she spun around and headed for the front door.
She wouldn’t stumble; she wouldn’t cry. She would walk out of his house and his life with her head held high. She’d shed too many tears over stupid men and she wouldn’t do it again. They weren’t worth it.
When she hit the sidewalk, she heard his front door closing and it felt like the oversize exclamation mark at the end of their horrid conversation. Sadie, standing in the frigid wind, felt her eyes sting and her throat close.
It was only the cold that had her eyes watering, the icy wind stealing her breath. That was what she told herself. But then hot tears rolled down her cheeks and she knew she would cry over Carrick, probably for a long time.
She’d cry because he was a good man and she’d lost him. Not to cruelty or to manipulation, but to mistrust and fear.
And that was the saddest possible ending to their story.