Prodigal Son (33 page)

God, I want this night to be over.

She opened her eyes. She had a date with Daniel Lowe tomorrow night, and sometime before then she was going to have to decide whether to keep it now that she’d stopped lying to herself and acknowledged her own feelings.

She was in love with Ethan.

Not exactly a newsflash. She’d seen it coming, after all. Tried to avoid it. And yet here she was.

She eyed herself in the mirror. There was nothing she could do about it. Not now, after the fact. She’d fallen for Ethan. It was done. Now she had to begin the slow and painful process of getting over him.

The woman in the mirror smiled, but it was not a happy smile.

How was she supposed to work with him, have lunch with him, play racquetball with him when she loved him? How was she supposed to not give her feelings away with every word and gesture and glance? How was she supposed to endure being so close and yet not close enough?

You’ve survived worse.

She had. Of course she had. And she’d survive this, because that was what she did.

But just once, it would have been nice—

She didn’t let herself finish the thought. Life wasn’t about What Ifs. As she’d once said to Ethan, life was about what you had, and what you could get, and what you could do with it. And she knew without asking that she couldn’t have Ethan. He was the most un-have-able man she knew.

The door to the bathroom swung open and a trio of women entered, their high heels clicking on the tiled floor. Alex exchanged friendly smiles with them as she headed for the door.

Another hour or so and she could go home.

Thank. God.

* * *

Ethan had been a good boy. He’d kept his distance from Alex all week. Any time they’d run into each other in the kitchenette he’d talked about work and the weather and the economy. A couple of times they’d talked about something Jamie or Tim had said or done. Not once had Ethan asked about her upcoming date. Even though the thought of her going out with some other guy was burning a hole in his gut.

Now, he watched as she returned to the table. She looked…amazing. Sleek and feminine and sexy. She’d worn her hair up and every time she moved her head the sway of her earrings drew his eye to the elegant line of her neck.

In the good old days, pre-couch, he’d have teased her about dressing so dangerously for a Heart Foundation event, of all things. He’d have told her she was a walking cardiac arrest waiting to happen, then he’d have spent half the night making her laugh and talking to her and simply enjoying her.

But they’d lost the ease in their relationship since they’d slept with each other.

He watched her out of the corners of his eyes as they drank coffee and the party finally began to break up for some post-dinner table-hopping and chat. She said something to Keith Lancaster, smiled, then stood. Then she collected her small evening bag and started weaving her way toward the exit.

He was on his feet before he could even think about it. Muttering a hasty excuse to his dinner companions, he followed Alex into the crowd.

He didn’t know why he was following her, or what he was going to say to her when he caught up with her. All he knew was that he didn’t want to go home tonight without having spent some time with her.

She lengthened her stride when she left the Great Hall. He ducked around a waiter and followed her onto the red carpet.

“Alex.”

She glanced over her shoulder, then slowed her steps.

“Ethan.”

“You’re not going home?”

“Busted. My feet are killing me. And we’ve got work tomorrow.”

“It’s early days yet. Why don’t we go find some place where they won’t mind you being barefoot while we have a nightcap?”

The Southbank precinct was just around the corner. There were several good bars and restaurants there they could choose from.

“Thanks, but I was really hoping for an early night.”

“Right. You’ve got your big date tomorrow night, haven’t you?”

“That’s the one. Candidate number one.”

Don’t say another word. Shut your mouth and back away.

“Where’s he taking you?” he asked.

“Vue du Monde.”

“Wow. Pulling out all the stops.”

“I guess. Listen, I want to try to catch a cab before there’s a queue.” She gestured toward the foyer and took a step away from him.

“I’ll walk you.”

They resumed walking toward the entrance.

“So, what’s this guy do again?” he asked.

“Um, he’s a doctor. A gastroenterologist.”

“A gut man.”

“Yep.”

They pushed through the doors into the cold night air. Alex glanced around for a taxi line, her arms crossed against the cold.

“So, let me guess. He drives a BMW, has a house in Kew, lunches at the Melbourne Club?” He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to know.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask him tomorrow night. I thought there was a taxi stand around here somewhere?”

She was rubbing her arms now, her shoulders hunched.

“Here.” He shrugged out of his jacket.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t. Then you’ll be cold.”

“I’m tougher than you.”

Before she could protest again he dropped his jacket around her shoulders. She ducked her head for a moment, then she pulled the edges of his jacket closer as she lifted her face and met his eyes.

“Thanks.”

The streetlight struck red notes in her hair. She was wearing a different perfume from her usual, something heavier with more musk. His gaze followed the line of her neck, then her cheek. She was beautiful and fine—and she was going out with another man tomorrow night. A doctor. A guy who’d wooed her with phone calls and emails and would finish the job with a meal at Melbourne’s most acclaimed restaurant.

“He’s not good enough for you, you know.”

Alex looked at him, confusion in her eyes. “Who?”

“The gut doctor.”

“You haven’t even met him yet.”

“I don’t need to meet him.”

She stared at him for a beat. Then her gaze slid over his shoulder and she stepped out into the street and raised her hand. A taxi swerved to the curb. She turned to face him, shrugging his coat off.

“Keep it,” he said when she offered it to him.

“I’m fine now,” she said, arm still extended.

“Give it back to me at work tomorrow.” He took a step backward. For some reason he really wanted her to go home in his jacket.

“All right. Thank you.” She walked to the cab and slid into the backseat. She didn’t put his coat back on, he noted. Instead, she draped it across her lap. And she didn’t look back as the taxi pulled out into the traffic.

It was only when the taxi was long gone that he realized he was staring at nothing and that it was damned cold.

He shouldn’t have said anything about her date. He shouldn’t have asked anything, and he definitely shouldn’t have said that thing about the guy not being good enough for her.

She wanted a family. She believed in happy-ever-after. Next time the subject of Mr. Perfect the Wonder Healer came up, he’d bite his tongue. If it killed him. He’d already made his decision. He simply had to stick to it.

* * *

Alex canceled her date with Daniel Lowe first thing the following morning. She told herself she should go, that he might be a lovely man and she’d be missing out, but she knew that going out with him would be tantamount to leading him on. She had no business going out with another man when she was in love with Ethan.

She had trouble focusing for the rest of the day. For the first time in many, many years, she felt overwhelmed by life. She’d always been a planner, a doer, but there was nothing to do when you loved someone who was out of reach.

Oh, she could probably seduce Ethan again if she wanted to. She was grown up enough and sophisticated enough to create a situation where she could tempt him and he’d allow himself to be tempted. She’d seen the admiration and desire in his eyes last night. If she played her cards right, she might even be able to negotiate some sort of relationship with him, the kind of thing that she assumed he enjoyed with his other women—no strings, sex, a bit of companionship.

No children. No love. No sense that he belonged to her and she belonged to him. None of the things that Alex wanted from a relationship.

She wouldn’t do it to herself, even though a part of her was tempted. Even though a little voice in the back of her head whispered that maybe, if she bided her time, he might change.

She’d played that game before, for seven years. She’d waited and loved and hoped and yet here she was, nearly thirty-nine, on her own, childless.

Not again. I can’t do it again. I can’t live on hope anymore.

It was such a waste. Ethan was a good man. He had a lot of love to give—it was evident in every interaction he had with his brother and sister-in-law and nephews. And he’d been so attentive and thoughtful and generous with her. He would have made a great father, and, once upon a time, an incredible husband. But his marriage had broken something fundamental in him.

The incredibly sad thing was that she suspected he was lonely. He could surround himself with designer furniture and clothes and buy as many beautiful, sleek cars as he liked but none of it was going to make up for the fact that he would only ever experience family life secondhand through his brother. She’d seen him with those kids, and she’d seen the way he looked at Kay and Derek. He wanted the picket-fence dream. He simply didn’t believe in it anymore.

She left work early but didn’t go straight home. Instead, she went to Albert Park Lake and slipped off her pumps and put on her running shoes and walked around and around until the streetlights came on. Then she went home and poured herself a huge glass of wine and sat on her balcony, staring out at the world. It was cold out and after a while she went back inside and shrugged into Ethan’s tuxedo jacket. She knew it was pathetic—the worst kind of teenage, maudlin droopiness—but she couldn’t help herself. She sat on her balcony with her knees drawn to her chest, her heels resting on the front of the seat, the jacket wrapped around as much of her as it would cover.

She inhaled the smell of Ethan and looked out at the big, noisy city and drank her wine.

Maybe she’d take a leave of absence and go on a holiday, a good long one. She’d always wanted to return to France and explore Spain. Maybe she could fly to Paris and hire a car and drive around. It would be summer in the northern hemisphere. The wind would be warm instead of cold. She wouldn’t have to wake up every day and know that she might see Ethan at work and that if she did, she’d have to smile and laugh and pretend nothing had changed between them and that if she didn’t she would be miserable and wondering and her day would be that little bit less bright and less alive….

She rested her forehead on her knees and hugged herself tightly. She wanted…so much. She had so much longing inside her. And it was all pointless.

I love you, Ethan Stone. But I wish I didn’t. I really, really wish I didn’t.

Chapter Nine

E
than checked the time again. It was nearly eleven. Was she home yet? Or was Doctor Smoothy taking her somewhere for a nightcap? Worse, was he taking her back to his place so he could—

Someone nudged his foot and he glanced up to find his brother standing over him.

“I need to go to bed. And you need to go home.”

Ethan opened his mouth to complain that the movie wasn’t finished yet then registered the blank TV screen and utter silence.

“When did the movie finish?” he asked.

“About half an hour ago. You were too busy brooding to notice.”

“I wasn’t brooding. I’ve got a big case on at the moment. I was going over some stuff in my head.”

“You’ve been hunched over like the human question mark all night. You’ve barely said a word to the kids. Do you know what Tim said before he went to bed?”

Ethan had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it, whatever it was. Tim could be a keen observer of humanity when he wanted to be. Plus the kid had a pithy tongue. “What?”

“He said you reminded him of the sad orangutan we saw at the zoo last week. The one who looked like he shouldn’t be allowed near loaded weapons.”

“Tell Tim thanks from me.” Ethan stood and reached for his coat. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

Derek growled in the back of his throat. “Or you could talk to me about whatever it is that’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on.”

Kay stepped forward and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Ethan good-night.

“I’ll leave you two big bulls to lock horns.”

“We’re not locking anything. I’m going home,” Ethan said.

“Either way.” Kay gave Derek’s arm a squeeze as she walked past and disappeared through the door to the bedrooms.

Ethan dug in his pocket for his car keys. “Sorry for keeping you up. And I’ll make it up to the kids next time.”

“This is about Alex, right?”

“Derek, it’s all right, you don’t need to play Dr. Phil. I’ll see you next week, okay?”

“Man, you drive me nuts when you brush me off like that. Did it ever occur to you that I might be worried about you?”

Ethan paused in the act of pulling on his jacket. Derek was serious, his face creased with concern and frustration.

Ethan straightened his collar. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Yeah? You know what this reminds me of? The time after Cassie left.”

Ethan bristled, his pride stung. He’d been a mess when Cassie had dropped her bombshell. He was more than happy to acknowledge that. He’d hit rock bottom so hard he’d never thought he’d come up again.

Whatever was going on with Alex, it wasn’t anything near the intensity of those dark days. They weren’t married, for starters, and Alex hadn’t made promises to him. He hadn’t woven all his visions of the future around her and the idea of the two of them growing old together. He’d kept his distance, kept things nice and clean between them.

Except for that one night when he’d kissed her and she’d kissed him back.

But pretty soon even that would be a faded memory. As for the fact that he felt like ripping the head off someone every time he thought about Alex being out with another guy…that would pass, too.

“This is nothing like that.”

“You can’t give up on life because you fouled on the first ball, Ethan. You’ve got to keep slugging away.”

“I haven’t given up on anything.” It pissed him off that his brother had reduced eight years of marriage—the intimate details of which he knew nothing about—down to a sporting analogy.

“What do you call dating a string of women who mean nothing to you and then almost getting into some stupid co-parenting arrangement with a woman you’re clearly half-gone on because you haven’t got the balls to step up to the plate again?”

Ethan stilled. For a moment he and his brother eyed each other silently.

There were things he could tell his brother, justifications, explanations. Instead, he turned away. “Thanks for the movie.”

“Ethan.”

He could hear the regret in his brother’s voice but he kept walking. He pushed the speed limit all the way home, anger and unease dogging him.

It didn’t help that his brother was right. Fear was what was holding him back where Alex was concerned. Fear and hard-earned caution. After what Cassie did, after the way his marriage had crumbled around his ears… How could he ever put so much faith in another human being again? How could he ever trust that what was said was real and true and sincere?

And if his own experiences weren’t enough, there were the many small, sordid disappointments and betrayals he saw in his office on a daily basis to add weight to his argument.

He might be in love with Alex. He might want her and miss her and think about her all the time. But he simply wasn’t up for the risk. He’d had to put himself together again piece by piece after Cassie had broken him.

So, yeah, his brother was right. He was a coward. Too afraid to reach out for what he wanted. So afraid—he hit his steering wheel with the heel of his hand and swore—so afraid that he’d sat on his brother’s couch all night while she’d been out meeting another man. A man she might fall in love with and marry. A man who might be the one to make her happy and give her the babies and the life she deserved.

He pulled over to the side of the road with a screech of tires. He barely got out of the car before what little he’d eaten for dinner burned its way up the back of his throat.

He stood with his arms braced on his legs for a long moment. Then he spat into the gutter. Feeling about a million years old, he climbed back into his car.

* * *

Alex almost canceled their racquetball game Wednesday night—it was her week for canceling things, after all—but she wanted to see Ethan. Which was on a par with wearing his tuxedo jacket for half the evening—pathetic and needy and destined to get her nowhere.

As she pulled on her workout gear in the change room at the gym she tried to remember if loving and losing Jacob had been this painful. Maybe time had faded her memories but she didn’t think so. She’d done her level best and tried everything in her power to make things work. When they’d finally parted ways she’d at least had the satisfaction of knowing that she’d given it her best shot. With Ethan, there had been no shot. The gun had barely made it out of the holster. There had been the brief illusion of something—a fiction created by their agreement to try to co-parent a baby—then there had been that one night. After that, nothing but the painful realization that she had fallen in love with the wrong man yet again.

She shouldered her gym bag, grabbed her racquet and left the change rooms. Her heart pumped out a quick double-beat as she approached their regular court. She curled her fingers around the cool metal of the door handle, took a deep breath and entered the court.

He was stretching his legs out against the wall. She’d only seen him once today in passing as they both grabbed coffees between clients. They’d barely had the time to exchange greetings before she’d had to race off. She stole a moment to admire the pull of his dark navy T-shirt across his broad shoulders and the snug fit of his shorts. Then she cleared her throat.

“Hey.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Hey.”

She threw her bag beside his in the corner.

“How did your day go?” she asked.

“So-so. How about you?”

“Yeah, you know. The usual.”

Normally they were knee-deep in mutual insults by now. She wracked her brain from something to say.

“Hope you’re ready for me to wipe the floor with you, Pretty Man,” she said.

He smiled faintly but didn’t say anything.

She grabbed her racquet and took up position on the court. Ethan followed suit.

“Prepare to feel the pain,” she said.

“You’re perky today. Had a good night last night, did we?”

She glanced at him. His expression was unreadable. She pretended to examine the grip on her racquet. No way was she telling him she canceled her date. She manufactured a casual shrug.

“It was nice.”

“
Nice.
What does that mean?” He bounced one of the balls and hit it at the wall so they could warm up with a few practice shots.

She returned the shot. “It means I had a good time,” she lied.

Ethan caught the ball on the full and sent it back at her. “So are you going to see him again?”

She missed the shot and followed the ball into the corner to collect it. “You’re full of questions tonight.”

He shrugged. “Just being a friend. So are you going to see him again or not?”

“We haven’t decided yet.”

“So it didn’t go that great then?”

She didn’t know what to say to make him let it go. “Can we talk about something else? Head lice? Male-pattern baldness? Better yet, can we just play?”

“Sure.”

He served and they raced around the court until she caught him with a short, sharp corner shot.

“So, was I right about the BMW and the house in Kew?” Ethan asked as she collected the ball and prepared to serve the next point.

“That’s a pretty insulting question,” she said, frowning.

“Why?”

“Because it implies I went home with him on the first date.”

“Did you?”

Whoa. Where the hell had that come from?

If it was any other man she’d ascribe his questions and veiled hostility to jealousy. But this was Ethan and he’d already made his feelings where she was concerned more than clear.

She faced him, hands on her hips. “What’s going on, Ethan?”

He was silent for a long beat. Finally he met her eyes, his gaze intense. “What if I asked you not to see him again?”

She stilled. Suddenly it felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

Was he saying what she thought he was saying? All the hours she’d sat in his tuxedo jacket last night, breathing in his smell and telling herself she could never have him—had she been wrong? Had she let her experience with Jacob taint her judgment?

She took a step toward Ethan. “Why?” she asked, never taking her eyes from his face. It felt like the most important question of her life. “Why would you ask me to do that?”

“You know why.”

“No, Ethan, I don’t. I have no bloody idea about anything when it comes to you. I have no idea how you feel about me, or what you want or anything.”

Her voice wavered on the final words but she swallowed the wash of emotion at the back of her throat.

“How about this? It nearly drove me nuts last night knowing you were out with another guy. I dream about you every night. I can’t stop thinking about you. I spend half the day coming up with excuses to drop by your office. When I saw you at the fundraiser the other night I wanted to throw you over my shoulder and take you home. Does that clear anything up for you?” Ethan’s face was anguished, his body rigid with tension.

She was so relieved, so overwhelmed she felt dizzy. Ethan cared for her. Maybe he even loved her. And he was declaring himself, which meant—

She bent her knees and sat on the floor before she fell down.

“Alex…” He was instantly at her side, crouching with his hand on her back. “Are you all right?”

She lifted her face to him. “I thought it was just sex. Or that maybe you cared but it wouldn’t make a difference because of what happened with your divorce. I thought we didn’t stand a chance.”

There was a flicker of something behind his eyes but she barely registered it as she reached out to grip his forearm, her fingers wrapping around the strong muscles.

“Ethan, I love you. And I didn’t go on that date last night. I couldn’t, not when my head is full of you.”

He closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again there was so much heat and need and want in them that she almost laughed out loud. He loved her. Ethan Stone loved her. She’d convinced herself that her love for him was a lost cause, that he would never, ever want the same things that she wanted, and yet he loved her.

She used her grip on his arm to pull him closer. They kissed, a hard, determined, fervent kiss, his hands gripping her shoulders to pull her closer, hers tightening around his forearm as she strained toward him.

He loved her. Ethan Stone, serial womanizer, Mr. Anti-Commitment, loved her. A bubble of relief and joy rose inside her and she broke their kiss to release it in the form of a laugh.

“My God, Ethan, if you only knew how pathetic I’ve been over you. Mooning around like a teenager…”

He kissed her again. It didn’t take long for things to get heated between them. She wanted to touch his skin, to feel all of him against all of her. She needed the reassurance, the confirmation. Somehow she ended up in his lap, her legs straddling his waist, his hands up her T-shirt as he caressed her breasts.

She could feel his erection pressing against her. She broke their kiss and drew her head back a little so she could look him in the eyes.

“Let’s go back to your place. Or my place. Hell, let’s go out to the backseat of my car,” she said, a big grin on her face. She felt as though she had champagne in her veins instead of blood, as though she would float to the ceiling if he let go of her.

Ethan loved her. He loved her.

She started to slide out of his lap but his hands tightened on her waist.

“Alex. Wait. There’s something I need to say to you first.”

He sounded very serious. She settled back into his lap.

“Okay.”

She looked at him, waiting. His gaze searched her face, then he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Alex, I care for you enormously. I think you’re a woman in a million. There’s nothing I want more than to go home with you right now and get you naked. I want to have a relationship with you, but I need you to know that I don’t ever want to marry again.”

She blinked, the smile freezing on her face. “Okay. So…what, we live together? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

Then she registered the other thing he’d said. Or, more accurately, the thing he hadn’t said.
I care for you enormously.
Not
I love you.

“I think we should play it by ear. You’ve got your place, I’ve got mine. We could see how things work out. But I’d be happy to try for a baby straight away. I know that’s something you want and that we’re on the clock. And we’ve already hammered out the basics of a co-parenting agreement, so if things didn’t work out—”