Page 9 of Silver Fox's Secret Triplets
My thumb traced the line of her cheekbone, wiping away the moisture there. Her skin was soft and warm under my touch, and I felt her lean into my palm almost involuntarily before catching herself and trying to pull back.
"Would it be alright if we talked again sometime? When you're feeling better?" I kept my voice gentle, non-threatening. "Seeing you again has brought up feelings I thought I had buried. I don't want to ignore them this time."
For a moment, I thought she might say yes. Her eyes searched my face, and I could see the war being fought behind them, the desire to say yes battling against whatever fears were holding her back.
Then she stepped away from me, and the loss of contact felt immediately sharp and painful.
"It can't happen, Duncan."
The words were quiet, but she meant them. She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand, trying to compose herself, but I could see how much the rejection cost her. Her voice shook when she continued.
"I made a mistake coming here. I don't think I can work for you."
The panic that shot through me was irrational but far stronger than the guilt I'd been wallowing in. The thought of her walking out of my life again, of spending another four yearswondering where she was and how she was managing, was unbearable.
"If you need this job, I can be professional." The words came out sounding too desperate. "I've had three assistants quit in the past three months. I know I'm not easy to work for, but I won't make things uncomfortable for you. Please don't quit because of me."
She was already moving toward the door, her strides quick and purposeful now that she had made her decision. I wanted to go after her, to block her path and demand that she tell me what was really going on, but I forced myself to stay where I was.
"Ivy."
She paused at the door but didn't turn around.
"If you change your mind about talking, you know where to find me."
The way she lingered there looking over her shoulder gave me hope that I could yet redeem this situation. If the only thing I could have for the time being was a new assistant, I wanted it. I wanted her near me. So when she sighed hard and nodded a few times, I made the raw assumption that she would stay, at least for the time being. And then she left and condemned me to dealing with my conscience alone in my office, a punishment far worse than being rejected.
I had spent the weekend planning this conversation, and I had managed to mess it up within the first ten minutes. I had pushed too hard, moved too fast, ignored every instinct that told me to be patient and let her come to me in her own time.
But the guilt that settled in my chest had nothing to do with my tactical errors and everything to do with the promise I had made to Bill years ago. I had sworn to him that I would never touch his daughter.
At the time, I had convinced myself it would be easy to keep that promise. Ivy was young and would move on, find someoneher own age who could give her the kind of future she deserved. I would focus on my work and try to forget the way she had felt in my arms, the soft sounds she had made when I kissed her, the way she had whispered my name in the dark.
But now she was here again, and I knew with absolute certainty that I was going to break that promise. I had already broken it by pulling her into my arms, by touching her face, by admitting that I hadn't been able to forget her.
The worst part was that Bill's wife was fighting cancer, and here I was, unable to think of anything except how much I wanted his daughter. The loyalty I owed to one of my oldest friends warred against the need that had been eating at me for four years, and I was no longer certain which side would win.
I walked back to my desk and sank into my chair, staring at the door Ivy had disappeared through. My office felt enormous and empty without her presence, and I wondered if I had just made the biggest mistake of my professional life.
The intercom on my desk buzzed, and my secretary's voice filled the room.
"Mr. Walsh? Your nine-thirty appointment is here."
I closed my eyes and tried to summon the focus that had made me successful in business, the ability to compartmentalize and prioritize that had carried me through scandals and setbacks and broken partnerships.
"Send them in."
But even as I prepared to meet my next appointment, I knew that everything had changed. Ivy was back in my life, and despite her rejection, despite the promises I had made and the loyalty I owed to her father, I was not going to let her disappear again.
The question was whether I could find a way to keep her without destroying everything else in the process.
5
IVY
Isat at my desk and tried to breathe. The office Duncan had assigned to me was larger than my entire kitchen back in Bar Harbor. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the harbor, and the mahogany desk could have seated six people for dinner. Everything about the space screamed money and power, two things I had spent years trying to escape.
My hands still trembled from our encounter in his office. I pressed my palms flat against the cool wooden surface and forced myself to focus on the computer screen in front of me. The quarterly reports blurred together, numbers meaningless when my mind kept replaying the way his thumb had traced my cheekbone, the way his voice had dropped when he said my name.
