Burn My Hart--A Sexy Billionaire Romance Page 15

  She stares up at me and I have no idea how she feels, no idea if she’s going to agree or disagree, but I know I need her to say yes. So I keep going, taking her silence as an opportunity at least.

  ‘Look. The whole “setting you up with someone else” thing was dumb. It made it seem like I could let you go without a thought, and that’s not it at all. I just thought I could find someone who’d give you what I can’t, someone who could make you happy because you deserve to be happy. But you’re not, and it’s my fault, and I want to fix it.’

  I move closer to her again, pressing my body to hers, reminding her of the one way we can make sense of everything, of the way we can fix whatever’s broken in both of us.

  ‘Can we just pretend Sydney never happened?’

  The idea comes to me from nowhere and it feels pretty fucking perfect, to be honest. Because before Sydney we were happy and everything was easy.

  She lifts a hand to my chest but doesn’t push me away. ‘It wasn’t just Sydney. I’ve had this feeling—’ she taps her other hand to her chest, pushing it between her breasts ‘—inside me, here, for a long time, I just didn’t understand it. But there’s nothing worse than loving someone who will never love you back. I know what I’m talking about—I have lived my whole life with this feeling, knowing that my dad doesn’t love me and that, no matter what I do, he never will.’

  My heart breaks for her.

  ‘You don’t love me, right?’

  God. You have no idea how badly I want to contradict that. To say what she needs to hear, just to make her smile. But lying to her is worse than anything else, so I don’t.

  ‘I like being with you.’

  She flinches.

  ‘I love spending time with you. I love how you make me feel.’

  ‘But you don’t love me.’

  I look past her, to an old flyer on the door.

  ‘Just say it, Theo.’

  Fuck. ‘No, Asha. I don’t.’ The world is dropping away from me. I feel as though I’m falling into the pit of fire at the centre of the earth’s core. ‘I’m sorry.’ I feel a thousand things for Asha but none of them is exactly what she wants. ‘I wish I’d been clearer about this.’

  ‘You were plenty clear,’ she murmurs, side-stepping me, moving directly into the rain. ‘I should have left it as a one-night stand. I’ll always wish I’d done just that.’

  And the warmth in my heart turns to ice as disbelief fires through me at her statement. ‘I’ll never be sorry,’ I say urgently, moving through the rain and pulling her into my arms. Her tears fall and my self-directed anger grows. ‘I will never be sorry for a second we spent together except for one thing—that you were hurt by me.’

  She nods, and lets out a small sound of agreement. Her tears mingle with the rain. I drop my face to hers, kissing her again, slowly, but I taste the salt in her mouth and it stirs something up inside me. I have to let her go. This is so selfish of me. She’s told me how she feels and what she wants and I can’t stand here toying with her emotions when I have no intention of offering it to her.

  ‘I will always remember you as one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.’ I force myself to smile, to make it sound relatively upbeat and simple.

  We stare at each other for several seconds, the rain lashing us, and I ache to do something, some small thing to make this better. ‘My car’s around the corner. Let me drive you.’

  ‘No.’ A whisper, but loaded with strength. ‘It’s fine. I’m fine.’

  She’s not. Fuck. ‘Asha...’

  She shakes her head. ‘Don’t. There’s nothing more to say.’ She swallows hard and looks away. ‘Just... I don’t know. Take care of yourself.’

  She says it like her life depends on mine. Is that what love is? How the fuck would I know?

  She turns and walks away and I ache to go after her, to run behind her until she stops walking and listens some more. But what do I say? What do I offer?

  Nothing. I can offer her nothing and so I let her go. My father’s legacy is one of pain. He hurt everyone who was ever foolish enough to care for him, and the memory of Asha’s tear-stained face makes me realise I’m just the same. No matter how hard I tried to fight that, I’ve picked up the mantle and run with it. Out of nowhere I think of that geranium in Paris, crushed by our passion, and the symbolism is impossible to ignore. I have destroyed something special and rare inside of Asha and the only answer is to let her go now, and hope she forgets all about me.

  I watch her walk away and know I will not chase her. I’ll never see her again, and the only gladness I can wring from that certainty is that I am doing what’s right for her—finally.

  * * *

  Two months after that night in the rain, I shoot a look of sheer disbelief at Holden. His grin makes me want to punch him. ‘Turn it off.’

  ‘What? I thought she didn’t mean anything to you?’

  I clench my jaw, looking back to the TV. I feel Jagger and Grace watching me and want to storm out, but I don’t because they’re waiting for me to say or do something and I have no interest in cluing them in on how much I fucked up with Asha.

  So I look at the TV even as it feels like a line is being sawed down my middle and my organs wrenched out. Christ, she looks so beautiful. Her hair is styled in braids, wrapped around her head like a crown, and she’s wearing a sand-coloured jacket, tailored so it shows off her curves in a way that makes my insides pound, with an oversized scarf that’s a shade of green perfectly complementary to her eyes.

  ‘The bump in share price is gratifying, naturally.’ She smiles in a way that makes my heart turn over in my chest. The reporter, sitting across from her in one of those TV sets that’s mocked up to look like a lounge room, nods encouragingly. I note the way he looks at her and feel a rush of possessive heat. It’s completely inappropriate. It’s been eight weeks since I last saw her. I sent her a few texts for the first week or so, tried to call to make sure she was okay, but she didn’t answer, didn’t respond. Eventually I got the message: leave me alone.

  ‘But, more exciting than that, Cliff, is the market response we’re seeing to the launch of this range. Angel Pie has sold out in four of the seven countries we launched into. Our mailing list and social media accounts for this brand alone have seen tremendous growth.’

  ‘Is it too early to talk us through the P&L for the launch?’

  It’s one of those business programmes that straddles a chatty news breakfast format, hence the emphasis on the business side of the range.

  I lean a little closer without realising it.

  Asha’s smile is pure charm. My hand forms a fist at my side.

  ‘Way too early.’ She laughs. ‘But, as you know, launches come at a cost. We have R&D to cover, but I expect at this rate we’ll be in the black for Angel Pie within six to eight months. It’s tracking incredibly well amongst our expected demographic but we’ve found an unexpected lift in a market we hadn’t expected—those with skin issues or recovering from aggressive medical treatments like chemotherapy. The products are all so gentle and naturally formulated that...’

  ‘She talks the talk.’ Jagger speaks over her so I don’t catch the rest.

  I turn to face him, my face feeling all tight and hot. ‘She believes it. This is her passion, man. She really cares about this.’

  Just like she really cares about me. Guilt incinerates me.

  Grace nods. ‘It’s true. We talked about it at my hens’. I think she’s amazing.’

  I turn back to the TV. She’s laughing at something the interviewer has said and her life is such a fragment of my soul that for a second I feel like I’ve come home again. But I haven’t; I’m not. Asha is a thousand miles away, or might as well be. I spin away from the television, stalking towards the bar.

  ‘I mean it, Theo. She’s really amazing. Are you sure it’s over for the two of yo
u?’

  I grip a tumbler in my palm, staring at the wall behind the bar. I see Asha as she was on that last day, standing in the pouring rain, so beautiful, so fucking heartbroken, and all because of me. ‘Yeah. It’s over.’

  ‘Do you...?’ Her voice trails off into nothing.

  I spin around to face her, sloshing some Scotch in my glass. ‘Do I what?’

  ‘Would you like me to talk to her?’

  ‘No.’ I laugh, a dismissive sound. ‘You think if you call her up out of the blue and ask her about me she won’t hang up on you?’

  Grace narrows her eyes and her voice is the closest to haughty I’ve ever heard it. Gone is the light banter she usually reserves for me. ‘It’s not out of the blue, and I had no plans to call her up and ask about you. I’m having lunch with her tomorrow. I thought you might come up in conversation is all.’

  Every cell in my body begins to screech. ‘You’re what?’

  ‘Catching up with her tomorrow.’ Grace speaks more slowly, as though I’ve developed a hearing problem.

  ‘What?’

  ‘They’re friends.’ Jagger’s grin is broad, like he’s enjoying this way too much. I shoot him a look of impatience.

  ‘Since when?’

  ‘Pretty much since we met,’ Grace interjects.

  ‘Convenient, right?’ Jagger bounces back, twisting the knife in.

  ‘Why?’

  Grace lifts a brow, looking beautiful and somehow more vibrant than normal, which is saying something. ‘Erm...because she’s really lovely?’

  My gut strangles.

  ‘Is that a problem for you?’ Grace asks gently, a frown crossing her face.

  Jagger’s grin drops and now his face holds a warning.

  ‘Nah,’ I lie. ‘Suit yourself.’ I throw the Scotch back.

  ‘Anyway...’ Grace’s voice shows she’s a little uncomfortable. ‘We actually stopped here on our way back to Sydney because we wanted to talk to you both.’

  My ears prick up. ‘It sounds serious.’ Holden’s body is similarly poised. We’ve had enough bad news for a lifetime, enough unpleasant discoveries.

  ‘It is.’ Jagger puts an arm around Grace.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  Then Grace’s smile spreads across her face and she presses a hand to her stomach at the same time Jagger says something loud and excitable that sounds a lot like, ‘Grace is pregnant’.

  ‘You’re for real?’

  Grace nods. ‘I’m three months along. We knew at the wedding but wanted to wait...’ Her eyes fill with tears. ‘We’ve just been so blessed... It felt a lot like tempting fate to tell you guys any sooner...’

  Holden’s the first to react. He stands and wraps Jagger in a massive bear hug, then folds Grace in. Her eyes meet mine over Holden’s shoulder and it spurs me to act. I cross the room and pull her away, hugging her, then shaking Jagger’s hand.

  ‘This is great news.’ And I mean it. I see how happy they are and for the first time in two months I remember the noble sacrifice I’ve made—Asha wants exactly what Grace and Jagger have. She deserves that. She deserves this. But I’m not the guy to give it to her.

  Much later, on the terrace, when it’s just Jagger and me, I turn to him, a tightness on my face. ‘Listen.’ I force a smile to my lips. ‘I’m happy for you, man. I really am.’

  ‘Sure you are.’ He laughs.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s just you and Holden are giving off a similar aura these days.’

  I grimace. ‘We’re really screwed then.’

  ‘Why don’t you just call her?’

  My body tightens. I reject his suggestion. ‘Call who?’

  He laughs, a gritty sound. ‘The woman you can’t stop thinking about?’

  I don’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘It’s been two months. Whatever we were is completely done.’

  ‘So you’re seeing someone else?’

  I recoil from that very idea. ‘Nah.’

  ‘So you’re celibate for the first time in your adult life and you’re trying to tell me it has nothing to do with Asha?’

  I shift my view, looking out at Manhattan. ‘What’s her due date?’

  ‘Thirtieth of May. Why don’t you call her?’

  ‘Grace?’ I purposely misunderstand.

  He reaches across and punches my arm. Not hard, but not playfully either. ‘Damn it, Theo, you’re being an ass.’

  I grind my teeth together, not one hundred per cent convinced he’s wrong.

  ‘What happened between the two of you?’

  ‘We were just sleeping together,’ I say, hating that I’m talking to him about Asha but also realising how desperately I need to talk to someone about all this. Because two months after she walked away from me I can’t get her out of my goddamned head.

  ‘Sure you were.’ He nods. ‘Except Grace says Asha was completely in love with you.’

  ‘She talked about me to Grace?’ I jerk my head around to Jagger.

  ‘Not in so many words. Grace is good at all that touchy-feely stuff.’

  I shake my head, letting my eyes dance across the skyline. ‘Asha wants the whole marriage and babies thing. She wants what you have.’ My smile is tight.

  ‘So?’

  ‘So? Look at who you’re talking to, man.’

  Jagger’s eyes drag over me. ‘What’s your point?’

  ‘Come on.’ I drag my toe over the grout. ‘I’m glad you’ve got Grace and that you’re all happy and shit but you know, you know, better than anyone, how unlikely that is.’

  He nods, slowly.

  ‘Dad really did a number on us.’

  ‘It’s not just Dad.’ I shake my head. ‘It’s you and Lorena. It’s Asha and how hurt she was by me. It’s everyone. It’s fucking Holden. All my life I’ve seen what “love” does to people. It’s not pretty. It’s not for me.’ I drag a hand through my hair. ‘Life is so complicated. I just don’t get why you’d make it even worse by getting involved with someone. By getting married.’

  Jagger’s smile shows sympathy, and I hate that. ‘The thing is, when you meet the right person, it’s not that complicated at all. It’s the easiest decision you’ll ever make because you just can’t live without them.’

  * * *

  It’s weird how Grace and I have stayed in contact, and now become friends, but we have. It has nothing to do with Theo. I had to make her swear, right from the outset, not to talk to me about him. It was the only way I could move forward with my life; I needed a clean break.

  But sitting across from her in this impossible-to-get-into sushi bar, I feel the question tripping out of me at every opportunity, so I basically have to bite my tongue to stop from asking how he is.

  Some time after our second pot of green tea, she volunteers the information anyway.

  ‘He’s doing okay, you know.’

  My eyes lift to hers, trepidation in my voice when I answer. ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘Are you?’

  I swallow. ‘Sure. I don’t wish him any harm.’

  She smiles, a small smile. ‘And you, Asha? Are you okay?’

  I nod, pasting a smile on my face. ‘Never better.’

  ‘Liar.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Because I know what heartbreak looks like.’ Her eyes grow moist and she reaches over, putting her hand on mine. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  What else can either of us say?

  I smile bleakly but it’s something.

  ‘Tell me something happy,’ I urge. ‘Cheer me up.’

  ‘I do have good news, in fact.’ She leans forward, her eyes bright. ‘I’m going to be a mom.’

  * * *

  I walk around the city for a few hours after lunch. I just need to clear my head and I can’t think straight at
my place, where Theo’s ghost seems to hang out, waiting to blow memories into my brain. I can’t escape him. He’s everywhere. Even now, eight weeks after I ended it, I feel his presence and I want to... I don’t know. I stop walking and press my back to a building, closing my eyes.

  ‘You all right, lady?’ A guy in a backwards-turned baseball cap approaches me.

  I nod. ‘I’m fine.’ Then, belatedly, ‘Thanks.’

  But I’m not fine. I wind up back at my office, not my home. It’s the one place Theo never came to, the one place I can be without imagining him. Here, at least, there’s a modicum of peace, albeit fleeting.

  I lose myself in my work, just like I have done every day for the last eight weeks, and I do everything I can to push Theo from my mind, just for a moment, just for a bit.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IT’S AFTER JAGGER and Grace have gone back to Australia that I find myself thinking about them, thinking about their marriage and their life, the baby that’s on the way. I find myself remembering the way they are together and contrasting that to the way Jagger was with his first wife. Holden and I hated Lorena from day dot—she was using him and it was patently obvious to everyone except Jagger. So when I first heard Jagger was getting married again I was wary for him. Hadn’t he learned his lesson?

  Hadn’t we all?

  But seeing them together...it’s so different. They’re so different. Jagger and Grace are nothing like Jagger and Lorena, nothing like Dad and his wives. It all seems so natural and easy between them.

  It felt natural and easy between Asha and me. Everything about her made me happy, made me smile. Why couldn’t we just keep going as we were?

  I stalk towards my bedroom window and stare out at Manhattan, drawing in deep, strangled breaths. The sound of my lungs pumping fills the room.