world. What should have been a night of peace had instead become one of pain and aching aloneness.
The sound of her footsteps seemed to fill the silence. He would swear he could hear the echo of her laughter and inhale the sweet scent of her body. As he held the brandy snifter, he thought he felt warm flesh instead of cool glass. She had done as he’d asked and disappeared from his world, and yet he felt her presence more strongly than ever.
Jonathan closed his eyes and told himself that everything would be fine now. He had all that he wanted. He was once more responsible only for himself.
But he wasn’t. Upstairs a small child slept. His nephew. With David and Lisa’s deaths he’d become guardian to an innocent baby. From now until he drew in his last breath, he would have to worry and plan for a world that included Colton Steele.
The thought confounded him. A child. A baby. Soon that baby would begin to walk and talk. He would grow and attend school. Jonathan would have to help him with his reading and play sports with him. There would be school conferences and family vacations. In time he and Colton would discuss girls, sex and careers. He would teach the boy to drive.
Jonathan opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. He couldn’t imagine that any of it was real. Him, a father? He didn’t know how. All he knew was the abandonment of his parents and a life of isolation. He didn’t know where to begin to change that for Colton. Cynthia said that what Colton needed the most was love and Jonathan didn’t know how to do that.
He’d always told himself that families were an invention of the devil and he hadn’t changed his mind. No doubt Lucifer himself was having a good laugh at his expense right about now. Jonathan drew in a deep breath and leaned his head against the back of the chair. He’d never felt more alone in his life. He ached for her.
And yet he would find a way to go on without her because he couldn’t be the things she needed him to be. Because he didn’t know how to love her and he wouldn’t offer her less than she deserved. No, he thought grimly. All that was bull. He’d never been selfless enough to give a damn about anyone else. The real reason he wouldn’t have her in his world was that he couldn’t risk caring about her and having her leave. Once he allowed himself to love Cynthia, he wouldn’t survive her going away. Because everyone left eventually. They always had.
Cynthia sat curled up in the lone chair in her bedroom. The cramped quarters-filled with a full-size bed, a small desk and low bookcase-had been her haven for over ten years. She loved this room. All through high school and beyond, it had been her refuge. Yet now it could have been a hotel room for all the comfort it gave.
She glanced at the clock. It was nearly nine in the evening. She hadn’t eaten, but she wasn’t hungry. She doubted she would be able to sleep later, either. She felt as if she’d been run over and left as roadkill. It hurt to think and breathe and even to stay upright in the chair. If this was love, she’d made a big mistake giving in to it so easily.
A knock on the door forced her to gather her waning strength enough to speak. “Come in,” she called.
Jenny entered, carrying a tray with a pot of tea, two cups and a plate of cookies. “Mom says it’s okay not to eat anything, but you have to drink the tea. The cookies are my idea. They always make me feel better.”
Jenny’s thirteen-year-old features were so earnest and caring, Cynthia couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks. I’m doing okay.”
Jenny set the tray on the desk, then poured them each a cup of tea. She took hers to the bed and settled cross-legged in the center of the mattress. “You don’t look okay and you don’t act okay. Plus I can tell when you’re lying. Mom says that’s a good thing. That we’re all lousy liars, I mean.” She offered a quick smile that faded almost as soon as it began. “I’m sorry about what happened with Mr. Steele.”
Cynthia reached for her tea and took a sip of the steaming liquid. “Me, too. I guess it’s going to take some time to get over him.”
Her sister, a younger version of their mother, tilted her head. “I don’t understand. I know Mr. Steele liked you a lot. I could see it when he looked at you.”
Surprisingly Jenny’s comment eased the band of pressure around her chest. “Thank you for saying that. But liking isn’t the same as loving. I love him and that’s not what he wants from me.” She paused and stared into the mug, as if the answers to her questions awaited at the bottom among the few floating tea leaves. “But it’s more than that. I have expectations that he doesn’t think he can fulfill.”
“Like what?”
Cynthia shrugged. “Jonathan didn’t have the same kind of home that we did.”
“Yeah, his was bigger.”
Cynthia actually smiled. The tugging of her mouth into a grin felt awkward, but also good. “Agreed, but I don’t mean that. His parents weren’t like ours. His mother ran off when he was only five and his father ignored him. He was alone in that big house with no one to love him. Because of that he’s afraid to believe that I love him.”
“He’ll change his mind,” her sister said with the confidence of youth. “Now that you’re gone, he’ll miss you a lot and come after you.”
“I would like that very much, but I have my doubts.” She looked at her sister. “Either way, I have a business and a life.” She paused. “Jenny, it’s time for me to move out. Mom is doing much better and I need to be on my own.”
Jenny clutched the mug she held and pressed her lips tightly together. Tears filled her eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “Mom already told me. She said that you’d given up too much already by living with us and that you needed a chance to live by yourself.” She sniffed. “But I can still come visit, can’t I?”
“Absolutely. I kinda hoped you’d spend the night with me once in a while. So we can have some girl time together.”
Jenny smiled bravely. “I’d like that. I just wish you didn’t have to go.”
“I know.” But Cynthia knew that being on her own would force her to get on with her life. Her hope was that then she would find things to distract her from thoughts of Jonathan. She needed to get on with the business of healing or she would spend the rest of her life wishing for something that was never going to happen.
“Mr. Jonathan, it’s the baby,” Lucinda said, her voice agitated.
Jonathan clutched the receiver as panic filled him. “What happened?”
“Nothing. The little one won’t eat. Mrs. Miller, she tried everything, but he only looks at her and turns his head. I don’t think he’s sick. I think he misses Miss Cynthia. I tried to give him a bottle, but he won’t take it for me, either. He has before, but not now. Mr. Jonathan, you have to come home right away. If he won’t eat for you, then we have to take him to the doctor.”
It was the middle of the workday and he had a full calendar. His meetings ran until eight-thirty that evening. “I’ll be right there,” he said and hung up. Then he buzzed his secretary and informed her that he needed to reschedule everything.
He arrived home less than twenty minutes after Lucinda’s call and jogged into the house. His housekeeper stood at the bottom of the stairs, wringing her hands in her apron.
“Oh, Mr. Jonathan, it’s so sad. He just looks at me with those big eyes. I think there have been too many changes in his life. It’s not good for the baby.” Her expression turned accusing. “You should have kept Miss Cynthia longer.”
“I don’t doubt you’re right,” he said, taking the stairs two at a time.
He entered the baby’s room and found Mrs. Miller pacing with Colton in her arms. She turned and gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir. I don’t usually have a problem getting babies to eat for me, but this little lad is stubborn.”
“It runs in the family,” Jonathan said. “You don’t think he’s ill?”
“No. Just not himself. Although if he won’t eat for you, then I would recommend we get him to the pediatrician right away.”
Jonathan didn’t tell the concerned nanny that he’d never once fed Colton and did
