‘It’s worse, Logan.’ He was looking stubborn and gorgeous in equal parts and Sally wanted to hit him. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d made love to her. How could he have been so tender and beautiful with her, so intense and passionate and then walk away as if it meant nothing?
Why couldn’t he see that emotional well-being was equally if not more important than financial security?
‘Tell me,’ she demanded hotly, ‘what will you do if you fall in love with someone before the five years are up?’
He shook his head. ‘That won’t happen.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘I won’t allow it to happen.’
‘You’re crazy!’ Something inside Sally snapped. She thumped her mug on the table and leapt to her feet. Tears clogged her throat as she raised her voice. ‘In another five years you might grow up.’
‘Sally!’ Logan was on his feet too. ‘I didn’t want to upset you.’
‘I’m not upset.’ They both knew it was a lie, but she wasn’t about to admit that she was angry, that she felt used, that her heart was ripping itself into a thousand pieces.
‘I suppose you’d like me to leave,’ he said quietly.
No, no! She wanted to plead with him to stay and it almost killed her to be strong. She said icily, ‘You’ve made it obvious there’s no reason for you to stay. I’m sure you have a business to worry about!’
Grim-faced, Logan picked up his damp jacket and shrugged into it.
They didn’t speak as they walked to the door. This was unbearable. Logan’s hang-ups had ruined everything. Sally was sure he had strong feelings for her. They should have been taking up where they’d left off last night—like any normal couple who were madly attracted to each other. But he’d chosen to punish himself and punish her as well. How dared he play with her emotions?
They reached the front hallway. ‘Sally, you’re a wonderful—’
‘Don’t!’ she shouted as her disappointment and anger exploded. ‘You’ve said enough.’ Fighting tears, she reached behind and slid down the zip on her dress.
‘What are you doing?’
She glared at him. ‘Giving you back the dress you paid so much precious money for.’ She pushed the straps aside and wriggled her shoulders free.
‘B-but you don’t have to.’
‘I most certainly do. And you know it!’ The dress slid downwards in a silken whisper.
Logan gaped at her. He looked as if he were about to burst a blood vessel.
Wearing nothing but her strapless bra and tiny panties, she stepped haughtily out of the golden pool of fabric, then scooped it up and thrust it into his hands. ‘Thanks a million, Mr Black. I adored wearing this.’
She opened the door for him, but Logan was too stunned to move, so she set her hands squarely in his midriff and pushed him. He got the message then and backed away with the rippling gold gown in his hands.
The last thing Sally saw was the pain and sad loss in his eyes. She had just enough time to slam the door before she burst into tears.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
UPSTAIRS in her bedroom, Sally threw herself on to the rose satin quilt and gave way to a bitter storm of weeping. She was so disillusioned, so mad with herself. She’d stupidly—stupidly—allowed herself to fall heart and soul for a man who had no capacity for returning her love.
Last night, the most beautiful night of her life, she’d given Logan everything. Everything. They’d been so close. He’d shared his lovely fantasy—Brahms, wine, the red couch—and she was sure he’d felt true emotional connection, so much more than lust.
And she’d bared her soul to him, had told him he’d healed her of her fear.
How naïve she’d been. Now she knew there were many ways to be hurt. She couldn’t bear that Logan wasn’t in love with her. But that was the truth. Logan was only interested in her skills as a receptionist and as a dancing instructor and tonight, the second most wonderful night of her life, she’d been left with nothing but humiliation and heartbreak.
When she’d finished crying about that, Sally cried for Chloe, who had wanted her to be so happy here in Sydney, and she cried for Hattie, who had warned her about her grandson, but who’d also given her reason to hope.
Vain hope.
Sally’s throat, already sore before the tears had begun, ached unbearably now. And she was cold as she lay on top of the bed in her scanty underwear, but she stayed there for ages, shivering and racked by sobbing, too utterly miserable to climb sensibly under the covers.
It was a long time before her exhaustion and the cold stilled her tears. When she sat up, her head ached horribly. She ached all over and she thought, for an awful moment, that she might throw up. Dragging Chloe’s blue kimono about her, she staggered through to the bathroom to wash her face.