Page 338 of The Christmas Wife

Her mouth firms, but she follows me down the corridor and into my office. I walk over to the floor to ceiling window that looks out over the River Thames. In the distance, the circle of the London Eye cuts a swathe through the rain. The dome of St. Paul’s Church is almost hidden by the low hanging clouds, except for a curve at the top bared like the shoulder of a shy bride.

"You love this city, don't you?" she asks from behind me.

I nod before I can stop myself.The hell?I never talk about my likes or dislikes with my friends. Definitely not, with my employees. During the time I was General Manager of the London Ice Kings, I kept a strict demarcation between my personal life and my professional one. I prefer to keep my preferences and my secrets to myself. A hangover from the days I was a man of the cloth, maybe, but it’s served me well. This way, I can keep my life straightforward. No emotions, no connections, nothing that could result in getting hurt.

The incident when I was a boy changed me forever. Then there's the broken heart, which I'm still not over. Which is why I’ve done away with messy sentiments. No more allowing myself to feel a connection with others. I did that when I was a priest.

I opened my heart to her, and she chose someone else. I don’t hold it against her. How can I? I left her, with no explanation. She was right in choosing my best friend over me. He can give her everything I can’t—emotional security, a grounding influence, the stability to put down roots and start a family. I curl my fingers into fists.

Last I saw Ava was at a gathering with Baron. She was glowing, and he had his arm around her. They looked at each other with adoration. And their love created a cocoon which enclosed them in their happy space. Surrounded by people, they remained separate, a unit tuned into each other’s presence.

Then I knew, I'd done the right thing by walking away. I stepped aside so the two of them could be happy. And something inside me grew peaceful, knowing they were. I made the correct choice…for them. So what, if I'm to spend the rest of my life alone?

"Edward?"

I blink, then pivot to face her. "Whether I love this city or not is not your concern. You’re here to do a job. You’d best focus on that, so you don’t lose it."

Her mouth firms. "I haven’t said I’d accept the role."

6

Mira

"Where are we again?" he drawls.

"We’re in your office, why?"

"I rest my case."

He brushes past me and heads toward his massive desk.

"What do you mean?" I follow him.

"Let’s cut the bullshit. You need this job to pay your rent." He slides into his armchair, his back straight. That soldierly poise of his hints at the strict control with which he lives his life. I can almost imagine him as a priest, at the pulpit, wearing the robes, standing upright and sermonizing to his congregation. None of which gives him the right to pass judgement on my life.

"Who told you that?" I jut out my chin. "It can’t be Gio, or any one of my friends, for that matter."

"Does it matter?"

"Did you overhear me talking to them? No, that can’t be. I know I tend to run my mouth, but no way, would I have turned to them for help."

"Why not?" There’s a note of curiosity in his voice, but the expression on his face is bored, like this entire conversation is a chore.

I stiffen. "Does it matter?"

A spark of something lights his eyes, but he extinguishes it quickly. "I didn’t get to be where I am in life without reading body-language. And yours indicated you were desperate at the event yesterday."

"I’m not desperate," I protest.

He stares at me steadily, and I hunch my shoulders. "Maybe, a little. No doubt, you saw me scarfing down the cupcakes at Gio’s wedding yesterday. But they were free, and I hadn’t eaten breakfast yesterday. Also, I ended up having ramen for dinner last night. Not that I'm?—"

"Have you had breakfast today?"

I blink. "Why do you care?"

He continues to hold my gaze, and damn, I don’t stand a chance. Those tawny eyes of his bore into me, and I’m sure he can read my mind.

"I ate breakfast," I say in a firm voice. My stomach chooses that moment to rumble. The sound seems to echo in the room, and I flush.

---