CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ÉLISE WOKE WRAPPED in her sleeping bag with the feeling of exhaustion that followed an outpouring of emotion. She hadn’t cried, and that was good, but still she felt drained and empty.
And vulnerable.
What had possessed her to tell Sean so much? She’d never told anyone the whole story before, not even Jackson.
Merde, she’d shared her innermost secrets. Her feelings. Her emotions. Her life.
All of it.
She’d held nothing back, not one single thing and he hadn’t done anything to stop her talking.
There had been a moment when she’d thought he was going to kiss her. Right after she’d finished talking there had been a look in those lazy blue eyes that had made her wish her rule was three nights, not one. If he’d reached for her then, she wasn’t sure her willpower would have held out. Instead, he’d slid into his own sleeping bag and hadn’t touched her.
Knowing his sex drive as she did, that could only mean one thing.
She’d scared him off. He’d thought she was like him, more interested in work than relationships. Now he knew the truth he’d be keeping his distance. She should be relieved about that, because the alternative would have her breaking even more of her rules.
She sat up, pushed her hair away from her face and breathed.
Shaken by her own feelings and confused about his, she pulled on her clothes and emerged from the tent to find him cooking breakfast on the lightweight stove.
“I found breakfast in your magic bag. Homemade English muffins and bacon. Good choice.” He flipped the bacon, defusing any tension in the atmosphere with an easy smile. His hair shone blue-black in the early morning light and his jaw was dark with stubble. Despite appearances, he was as comfortable out here in the wilds as he was in an expensive restaurant.
Her stomach was knotted so tightly she doubted she could eat a thing. The confidences of the night before had unsettled her in a way sex never had. Ridiculous though it seemed, that conversation was the most intimate thing they’d shared.
She knelt by the stove and watched the sun rise over the mountaintops. “What time is it? Are we in a hurry?”
“We’re on Tyler’s schedule and he’s a slave driver. His instructions were that breakfast had to be cooked at sunrise. It also means we do the toughest part of the hike before it gets warm and muggy. He thinks his group of unfit businessmen will be whining by lunchtime so the aim is to get down to the frozen waterfall by then. That’s our next picnic spot.”
He was speaking as if nothing had happened. As if nothing had changed.
“Frozen waterfall?”
“That’s what we call it because you can climb it in the winter.” He tipped the toasted muffins onto a plate, added bacon and handed it to her. “Obviously it’s not frozen now.”
“It is where your father proposed to your mother. She told me about it once.”
“Yeah, that’s the place.” He stared at his own plate for a moment and then started eating. “This was a good choice. Even Brenna can cook bacon.”
They ate, cleared up, packed away all their food so that they didn’t attract wildlife and hiked at a steady pace, following the river back toward Snow Crystal. They stopped at the waterfall, now in full flow, ate lunch and then continued on to the point where their path intersected one of the resort’s mountain bike trails.
They’d barely started down the trail when they heard shouts.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” Élise wrinkled her nose and listened.
“Kids.” Sean paused, head tilted to one side. “Someone having fun?”
“It didn’t sound like a child.”
Even as she said it, a man appeared farther down the path, waving his arms.
Élise squinted. “Isn’t that Sam’s dad?”
“Yes. Something is wrong.” Without bothering to take the backpack off his back, Sean sprinted down the trail toward the man and Élise followed as quickly as she could with the backpack weighing her down.
As she caught up with them she saw little Sam lying still on the ground, blood staining his trousers and soaking into the path, the wheel of his new red bike buckled and lying at a strange angle.
She felt a moment of pure panic. He looked so small and defenseless.
“Oh, mon dieu—”
“His bike hit a rock and he came off. He’s hurt his leg.” His father was pressing ineffectually on the leg but blood seeped around his fingers. “I can’t stop the bleeding. It’s spurting everywhere. I shouldn’t have left him but I needed to get help. Christ, make it stop. Make it stop.”
“It’s an artery.” Cool and calm, Sean swung his backpack off his shoulders and squatted down next to Sam.
The boy’s lips were blue. Mud streaked his cheeks and his hair was matted where he’d fallen. “I broke my new bike. I broke it.”
“We’re going to fix your bike so it’s good as new.” Sean took over from the father who was shaking so badly he couldn’t maintain pressure on the wound. “And we’re going to fix you, too.”
The boy’s eyes fluttered closed. “I feel weird. Swimmy.”
“That’s nothing to worry about. You’re going to be just fine.” Sean placed his hands above the wound and pressed, steady and reassuring. “Élise?”
“Yes.” She wanted to do something, but she felt helpless. Useless. Just as she had when Walter had had his heart attack. Every part of her was shaking, her hands, her knees— “What can I do? Tell me and I will do it.” Just don’t let him die, don’t let him die.
“There’s a first-aid kit in the top of my pack. I need it. And then call Jackson.”
“There’s no signal.” The boy’s father was frantic, his face gray. “I’ve already tried.”
Fumbling, Élise found the first-aid kit and pulled it out.
“Is that my blood on the ground?” Sam’s voice was wobbly and faint. “It looks like a lot.”
Élise was silently in agreement with Sam. It was a whole lot of blood. More than she’d ever seen in her life.
“It’s nothing.” Sean’s voice was steady and reassuring. “A small amount of blood can make a whole lot of mess. Haven’t you ever got blood on your T-shirt? Man, that stuff spreads everywhere.” He gestured for Élise to open the pack. “There’s plenty more where that came from, don’t you worry.”
“Mom will be mad at me for getting it on my jacket.”
“She’s not going to be mad. She’s just going to be pleased you’re okay.”
Sam’s eyes were wide and desperate. “I feel sort of numb and everything is far away.”
“I’m right here, Sam, and you’re going to be fine. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Cool.” His voice was faint. “You save lives all the time, right?”
Sean’s expression didn’t change. “All the time. All in a day’s work. You don’t need to worry.”
“I didn’t see the rock.”
“Happens to the best of us, buddy. Get Tyler to take his shirt off for you one day. There’s a story to go with every scar. It’s going to give you something to boast about when you’re back at school. Impress the girls.” His fingers were slippery with Sam’s blood but he didn’t release his grip. “Élise, use those scissors to cut off his trousers.”
She picked up the scissors and worked through the soaked fabric, cutting through the mud and leaves that had stuck to the boy’s clothes, all the time aware of the father’s anguish as he tried again and again to get a signal.
“The phone is useless.” He held it above his head and waved it around desperately. “Nothing. Christ, don’t let him die, don’t let him die—”
Élise saw fear flare in the little boy’s eyes and knew he’d heard.
“No one is going to die.” Icy-calm, Sean gestured with his head. “Try farther down the path, toward the waterfall. It’s patchy, but I’ve been lucky there before. Go.”
Sam’s father hesitated, clearly torn between leaving his son and making that all-important phone call.
“I don’t want to leave him.”
“We’re fine here. Trust me.”
Élise swallowed. She trusted him. Right at that moment if he’d told her to jump off a cliff, she would have jumped without question. And Sam’s dad clearly felt the same way because he seemed to pull himself together.
Responding to the authority in Sean’s voice, he nodded. “I’ll—I’ll be back in just a minute, Sam. You just hang in there. Dr. O’Neil has you safe. He’s going to fix you up. You’re going to be fine, son. Just fine.” It was obvious he didn’t believe it and looking at the volume of blood and the blue tinge to the little boy’s lips, Élise wasn’t sure she believed it, either. But she believed Sean was doing everything that could be done, and if he had any doubts, he wasn’t showing them.
“Open the sterile pads. All of them. And then give me your scarf.” His instructions were clear and concise but she stared at him, panic clouding her thinking. All she could concentrate on was how there was so much blood for a very little boy. How could he possibly survive it?
“My scarf?”
“I’m going to need a bandage. Maybe a tourniquet.” His tone cut through her panic. “Do it.”
She followed instructions because her own brain wasn’t working and somehow, despite fumbling and shaking, she opened the pads and gave him her scarf.
“Right, let’s see what we’re dealing with here. So how was the trail before you hit the rock? Were you having fun on your new bike? I wish I had a bike like that.” He kept talking to the boy, keeping it light as he worked, cleaning away blood so that he could get a close-up view of the damage. For a brief second blood spurted upward like a fountain but then he took the sterile pads and pressed down hard, bound it in place with a firm pressure bandage and secured it with Élise’s scarf. His fingers were slippery with blood, his shirt stained with it. But the man who complained when he got mud on his shoes and dust on his trousers didn’t seem to notice the mess. All his attention was on the child who seemed to be fading under his hands. “Élise, get me a knife or a fork from our pack.”
Her hands were shaking as much as her knees. “Which? Knife or fork?”
“Either. I just need something to tighten this. Pressure isn’t enough.”
“Am I going to die?” Sam’s eyes were fixed on Sean’s face. “My dad said I’m going to die.”
“You’re not going to die, Sam. You’re going to feel pretty rough for a few days, but you’re going to be just fine.”
“Why would he say that if it isn’t true?”
“Because he was panicking. You’re his boy. He loves you.” He moved the scarf and tightened it. “It’s hard to see someone you love in pain.”
“But you’re not panicking, right?”
“Nothing to panic about.” Sean looked almost bored. “You’ve cut your leg, that’s all. No big drama.”
Élise looked at the blood and the child and decided she never wanted to witness Sean’s idea of drama.
Sam clutched Sean’s arm. “I heard you say it’s an artery. That’s bad, right?”
“Well, if we leave it, it’s bad. But we’re not leaving it. We’ve stopped it bleeding and now we’re going to get you to a hospital and the doctors there will fix it.”
“Will you fix it? I want you to be the one to fix it.”
“There are doctors who are better trained at this sort of thing than I am. If you’d broken your leg, that would be different. Then I’d be your man.”
Élise would want him to be her man. If she were in trouble, she’d want that.
Suddenly she understood his total commitment to his work. He was gifted. Focused. When he went to work in the morning he saved lives. What did she do? She cooked pastry. No wonder he hadn’t understood that she was stressed about a delay to the opening of the Boathouse. What did the café matter compared to the life of a child? What did anything matter compared to that?
He did something few other people could do. He had skills few other people had. It was right that he put them to good use.
Sam’s eyes closed and then he forced them open again. “Will you come to the hospital with me, Dr. O’Neil?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Will you stay with me the whole time, even when I’m asleep?”
“I’ll stay with you the whole time.” Sean didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there when you go to sleep and I’ll be there when you wake up.”
“Do you promise? Pinky swear?”
“I don’t know what pinky swear is, but I won’t leave you. That’s a promise.”
“Cool.” Sam finally allowed his eyes to close, his eyelashes the only color in his ashen face.
Élise swallowed down the lump in her throat.
She’d never seen this side of Sean before. Or maybe she had. Hadn’t he been the same with his grandfather? Cool and calm while everyone else was panicking? And last night, when she’d spilled all her secrets, he’d been cool and calm then, too.
And after the party, when he could easily have walked away, he’d cared enough to come after her. Cared enough to carry her to bed and tuck the covers around her.
“I got a signal.” Sam’s father arrived back, red in the face from running. “They’re coming. They’re coming right now. They reckon five minutes. Is that too long? How long do we have before— Oh, God, is he unconscious? That’s bad, right?” He was shaking with fear and shock, sobbing with it, and Sean’s gaze flickered to Élise and she understood his meaning immediately.
He couldn’t deal with the father and the boy.
He wanted Sam’s father away so that he couldn’t make things worse.
“We’ll walk down the trail and meet them.” Almost stumbling because her own legs were wobbly, she took his arm and steered him gently away. “It will speed things up if they see us. Sean has this under control. Come with me.”
This time Sean didn’t look up and she didn’t expect him to.
He was trying to save the boy and nothing, nothing was more important than that.
And Élise knew that if the child died it wouldn’t be because Sean O’Neil hadn’t done everything he could.
* * *
“BOTH HIS PARENTS are here now. The surgeon is just talking to them and they’ll be able to see Sam real soon. I guess you can go, Dr. O’Neil. You’re the hero of the hour.” The nurse was pretty, her smile interested.
Sean didn’t even notice. His eyes were on the child who lay pale and still in the bed. It had been the longest six hours of his life. “I’ll stay until he wakes up.”
“You don’t have to.” The nurse eyed him. “Do you want to change? Your clothes are covered in blood. I could put them in a bag and lend you some scrubs.”
“I’m fine.” What the hell did it matter what he was wearing? The boy had almost died and she was worrying about a few bloodstains on his clothes?
“I have a place near here if you want somewhere private to wash and change.”
As invitations went, it couldn’t have been more blatant.
If he’d had more energy he would have laughed.
Who did she think he was? A superhero?
After the emotional pressure of the past six hours, the crazy ambulance ride, the life-or-death rush to the operating room, if someone showed him a bed he’d fall asleep instantly. The whole of the Boston ballet could have danced naked across the room and he wouldn’t have noticed.
He was wrecked.
And then he saw Élise standing in the doorway and his heart lifted.
But instead of the warm look that should have followed the night they’d spent together and the drama they’d shared, her eyes were blank. The expression on her pretty face was frozen. Those green eyes that could start a fire with just a look, as cold as ice.
“I came to tell you that Sam’s parents are here.” Her tone was as cool as her eyes. “I drove them. They weren’t safe behind the wheel. His mother is naturally very anxious. The doctor is talking to them now.”
“Right.” What the hell was wrong with her? She must be in shock. This whole business with Sam had probably scared her to death. It had certainly terrified him.
“I have to go back now. The restaurant is full this evening and I can’t leave them without help.”
“I’d offer to pitch in but I’m going to be tied up here for a while.”
“Of course you are.” Her smile was thin. “I don’t suppose you’ll be able to get away for quite some time.”
He assumed she was referring to Sam. “Yeah. Well, I might see you later.”
“I doubt it. I’ll be working and then you’ll be back in Boston. Good night, Sean.”
She took a last long look at Sam and for a moment her gaze softened. Then she turned and walked out, closing the door quietly behind her.
He had a feeling he was missing something, but he was too tired to work out what it was.
* * *
ÉLISE COOKED, SMILED, served almost a hundred people and tried not to think of Sean tangled up with the pretty nurse.
She’d seen the smile.
Heard the invitation.
The invitation he hadn’t refused.
A week ago it wouldn’t have bothered her. Now?
“Merde.” She tugged a pan out of one of the cupboards, sending others crashing.
It didn’t bother her now, either. He was a free agent and he could sleep with whomever he wanted. So what if he’d pretended to be all kind and sensitive and it had all been a sham? That wasn’t what upset her. No, what really upset her was that he’d broken his solemn promise to Sam.
He’d promised Sam he’d stay until he woke up but it was obvious that promise had come with conditions and one of those had been not getting a better offer from a sexy-looking blonde nurse who had no sense of timing or appropriate behaviour.
So he lied when it suited him. Why was she surprised? She’d spent long enough with a man who had done just that to know what people were capable of.
She slammed a pan onto the burner and saw Poppy jump.
“Everything okay, Chef?”
“Everything is just fine.” She poured in oil and waited for it to heat before adding garlic and ginger. “Couldn’t be better.”
She didn’t care about herself. She had no interest in whether Sean O’Neil slept with the whole damn female staff in the hospital, all she cared about was that he’d broken his promise to little Sam.
How could he do that?
How could he lie to a child?
That was the lowest of the low. There was no excuse.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Poppy was by her shoulder, looking anxious. “It’s just that you’re burning the garlic, Chef.”
Élise glanced down at the pan.
It was true. The garlic was dark and had that bitter aroma that offended her sense of smell.
She’d burned it, like an amateur. It was years since she’d done that.
With an exclamation of disgust she pulled the pan off the heat and stepped away, hands raised. “I should not be cooking tonight, I am too upset.”
“Of course you’re upset.” Her voice soothing, Poppy reached across and switched off the burner. “You’ve had a traumatic day. We’re all worried about Sam. I’ve been asked a million times how he is. Sometimes you think people are only interested in whether their steak is perfectly cooked, but then something like this happens and you realize they do care. Restores your faith in human nature to be honest.”
Did it? Her faith in human nature had been shattered years before and nothing she’d seen today had done anything to restore it.
It was like Pascal all over again.
Poppy nudged her out of the way and started with a fresh pan. “Go and talk to the guests, Chef. We’re fine here. I’ve got everything in hand.”
Talk to the guests.
Élise blinked. Breathed. Yes, she’d do that.
And she’d stop thinking about Sean.
If anything she should be pleased he’d shown his true colors. For a moment when he’d saved Sam’s life she’d been ready to lay down her own life for him. She’d been in awe. Totally overwhelmed by how amazing he was.
But she had no admiration for a man who broke promises to a child.
She wandered between the tables, a smile fixed on her face, her mind elsewhere.
“Any news on little Sam, Élise?” A family staying in one of the lodges looked at her with somber faces as she walked into the elegant dining room.
“The doctors are very pleased with him.” It always surprised her how quickly bad news spread, but perhaps that wasn’t so surprising given the size of the resort and the fact that some of the guests had been coming to Snow Crystal for years.
“I saw him on that new bike of his with his dad. Looked so pleased with himself. Such a shame.”
“His poor mother. They’re saying if it hadn’t been for Dr. O’Neil the boy would have died. He’s a real hero.”
“Is he doing all right, Chef?” Even Tally, the head waitress whose customer service was second to none, left the table she was serving to get an update.
Élise murmured words of reassurance, expressed a hope that everyone was enjoying their meal despite the events of the day, and moved around the room.
At every table she faced the same questions. The same exclamations. The same talk of Sean’s heroics until in the end she took refuge back in the kitchen.
“All anyone can talk about is Sam and Sean.”
“How is the little guy, Chef?” Antony, her newest recruit, and the most junior member of her kitchen staff, looked up from dicing vegetables. “He was in here last night eating his favorite pizza. And he told me he loved his chocolate birthday cake. Great kid. Good job Dr. O’Neil was there.”
Élise ground her teeth and forced herself not to pounce.
“Sam is doing well. But it’s important that we don’t all lose focus. Our guests will still expect to eat good food. They don’t want the staff to fall apart.”
“Yes, Chef. I mean no, Chef.” Antony looked nervous and she felt a flash of guilt.
She was a perfectionist, that was true. People were paying good money to eat her food and they deserved it to be just right. But she wasn’t a bully.
And she knew that in this case her temper didn’t originate from a fall in standards, but the fact that she kept imagining Sam waking up alone and wondering where Sean was.
I won’t leave you, that’s a promise.
Poor Sam. He was about to learn at an early age that people made promises when it suited them and then broke them without a second thought.
She kept imagining Sean’s long, strong limbs entangled with those of the nurse.
But mixed up with those thoughts was an entirely different vision of him, this time with his hands sure and steady as he worked to save Sam. She kept hearing his voice, reassuring and kind as he’d calmed the panicking child. And then she kept seeing him, sitting by the boy’s bed and smiling at the nurse.
“Merde.”
Antony jumped. “Chef?”
“Nothing. You are doing well. I’m lucky to have you on my team.” She forced herself to get on with her job, furious that she’d allowed herself to be so distracted.
By the time she’d finished her shift, she’d worked herself into such an angry state that she walked the distance to Heron Lodge in half her usual time.
She took the steps to the deck two at a time and stopped dead when she saw Sean sprawled on the chair on her deck.
He was the last person she’d expected to see.
Her heart lifted and then a breath hissed through her teeth and all the anger she’d kept contained throughout her shift burst to the surface. There was no question of reining it in.
“What are you doing here? Get off my deck you ’orrible lying piece of—” She used a French word and saw his expression shift from warm to wary.
“Sorry?”
“You expect me to greet you with open arms after what happened? How do you think I feel?”
He was very still. “I should imagine it was upsetting to witness.”
“Upsetting? That is an understatement. For a while I thought you were a hero but now I know there is nothing heroic about you, Sean O’Neil.” The emotion of the day spilled out unrestrained. “Nothing.”
“I agree. I was just doing my job.” Mouth tight, he rose to his feet. “Look, it must have been pretty shocking for you, I understand that. Why don’t we—”
“Stay away from me.” Furious, incensed, she lifted her hand in a stop sign. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from me. Don’t come any closer.”
Of course, he ignored her. “If you’re half as tired as I am you need to lie down. Let’s go inside.”
“You think I would lie down with you? After what you did? Because you save a life and behave like a hero and buy your grandmother flowers, you think you are this great big gift to women, no?” She was so angry she stumbled over the words, switching from English to French and back again. “You think you’re so irresistible.” He was just like Pascal. Exactly like Pascal.
“Wait a minute, just rewind—” he frowned “—a moment ago you called me a lying piece of— What did I lie about? And what does buying Grams flowers have to do with anything?”
“Go away!”
“Not until you tell me what you think I lied about.”
The fact that he needed to ask tipped her over the edge. “Why are you here, anyway? Did she kick you out? Or did the great Sean O’Neil break his own speed record for leaving a woman’s bed?”
“Did who kick me out?”
She curled her fingers into fists, the misery a solid lump in her throat. “You can’t even remember her name. You disgust me.”
“Honey, I’m so tired I can barely remember my own name.” But amusement had been replaced by irritation. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on here? Because I’m coming up blank.”
She’d backed along the lake path but still he kept coming, across the deck and down the steps until he was standing right in front of her. “I want you to leave. Now.”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s made you so mad.”
“You broke a promise! You say—said—” she fell over the words in her temper “—you said things but you didn’t mean any of them. It was all lies.” Furious with him and with herself for believing him, she gave him a massive shove just as he stepped toward her and he lost his balance and toppled into the lake.
There was a huge splash and Élise was showered first with water droplets and then with male cursing.
“What the hell is wrong with you? I only put these clothes on half an hour ago. That’s two sets I’ve ruined today. I go through more clothes in Snow Crystal than I ever do in Boston.” Swearing, he hauled himself out of the water, dripping all over the path and a million miles from his usually sophisticated self.
“I want you to go away.”
“Yeah, I got that message.” He wiped the water from his eyes and glanced down at the shirt now plastered to his chest. “Before I do that you’re going to tell me what promise I supposedly broke.”
“You don’t even remember! You break promises so often you don’t even care.” She ran up the steps, picked up a glass candleholder that was on the table and hurled it at him. “You promised Sam you wouldn’t leave him.”
He ducked and there was a splash as the candleholder landed in the water. “That’s the promise?” He stared at her through eyelashes clumped together with water. “We’re talking about Sam?”
“Yes. He was terrified and you took his hand and you were so cool and calm and you promised him, Sean. You said those words as if you meant them and then you—then you—” Her normal fluency deserted her and she switched to French, abusing him with words that any taxi driver in Paris would have admired.
His bemused expression told her that his education hadn’t included listening to many French taxi drivers. “I’ve lost you. If you’re going to insult me, do it in English or at least textbook French.”
“You promised him, and then you left ’im to go and ’ave sex with that nurse with lascivious eyes and a too-red mouth that pouted like so—” She pushed her lips out in an exaggerated imitation of the other woman and saw his brows lift in astonishment.
“That’s what this is about? The nurse?” Water dripped down his face and he cursed again and wiped it away with his palm. “All this throwing and screaming and pushing me in the lake is because you’re jealous?”
“I am not jealous! This is not about me! It is about Sam.”
“Sam told you to drown me and hurl a candleholder at me? I don’t think so. This isn’t about Sam, it’s about you, sweetheart.”
“I am not your sweetheart.”
“You’re jealous.” He said it slowly, like a revelation, and his sudden smile made her want to push him straight back in the lake and hold his head under.
“Why would I be jealous? I do not at all care who you sleep with, tu me comprends?”
“I do understand you,” he said calmly, “but the correct sentence structure should be ‘I do not care at all.’ You split the infinitive, baby.”
“I am not your baby. And I will split as many infinitives as I want to split, right along with your skull! I am not jealous. I do not care that you slept with her. I do not care that you saved Sam’s life or that you bought flowers for your grandmother. I do not care about you at all!” She was yelling now. “I only care that you broke your promise to a child. You have no standards! Because of you he ’as learned never to trust people.”
“Are you about done yelling?” Sean swiped his fingers through his sleek dark hair, sending more droplets showering his shirt. “Because if so, I’d like to say something.”
“I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want to hear that she was pretty, that it didn’t mean anything or that you slipped and fell on her or any of that shit men say when they’re making excuses for bad behavior.”
“How about the fact that I didn’t sleep with her. Do you want to hear that?”
“I am not listening to your lies!” She clamped her hands over her ears. “And I don’t care, anyway.”
“Sure you care, but you’re so damned scared you won’t let yourself listen. And after what you told me last night I understand that. But I’m not him, Élise. I won’t let you transfer your feelings for him onto me.”
She paused, her breathing shallow.
Remembering just how much she’d told him made her squirm. “It is not for myself that I care. We have no relationship. We are not together and you don’t owe me anything. It is not at all the same thing as with Pascal because my feelings, they are not engaged.” She stumbled, groping for words, frustrated when they poured out in the wrong order. “I am angry only for little Sam. I don’t care what you do.”
“You don’t care?” Sending her a meaningful look, he squeezed water from his shirt. “Are you sure? You seem pretty wound up for someone who doesn’t care. And because I can see you’re very upset, I’ll say it one more time. I didn’t touch her. I wasn’t with her.”
“I was there, Sean. I was there when she made you that offer and gave you that smile. Merde, I’m surprised she didn’t just drag you into Sam’s bed to save time! I was there.”
“But judging from the fact you just pushed me in the lake and almost dented my skull with a candleholder, you weren’t there when I turned her down.”
“I—” Turned her down?
Her temper, unleashed on full throttle, suddenly screeched to a halt like his sports car at a stop sign. “You turned her down?”
“Yes. And next time you’re wondering where I am, you could pick up the phone or just send me a text. I gave you my number, remember?”
“I would never call you. Or text you. You—you—” Relief mingled with the realization that she’d made a giant fool of herself and Élise subsided. The relief terrified her most of all. She shouldn’t care, should she? She shouldn’t care this much who he kissed or what he did? She shouldn’t care that he hadn’t stayed with Sam. He’d said it to reassure Sam and reassurance was important in a situation like that.
As usual she’d overreacted.
She was tired, that was all.
Stressed after the terrible events of the day and the outpouring of emotions the night before.
“Je suis desolée. I have this terrible temper and I thought, I thought—” her breath caught “—please could you go now.”
He frowned. “Élise—”
“Go. You are right. I am very tired. I need to lie down.”
“We should—”
“No, we shouldn’t.” Even if he hadn’t gone off with the nurse, it didn’t change the fact that he’d broken his promise to Sam. It was the wake-up call she needed. Exactly the wake-up call she needed. “Go. Please. Go right now.”