Jilly had hated the house as much as he’d loved it. It had been the first casualty of their marriage.
“Mrs. Busby told me about it—she said it had been built by one of the pioneers of the city. She misses it.”
“I never knew that.”
“She told me about the gardens—about the ferns you planted behind the house. She said it was like a secret world—she thought that Jennie would’ve loved playing in there, that it was the kind of place where a child could imagine fairies and elves.”
“Goblins, too.” Nick couldn’t suppress the tide of nostalgia that the memory of the house brought.
“Don’t you miss it?”
Candace’s question brought him back to the present. He dismissed the momentary sense of loss, and his customary mantle of control dropped into place. He lived in the present, not the past. What happened now he could control. The past had already happened; nothing could change it.
“No.” To soften the brusque reply, he shrugged and said, “It was time to move on.”
Candace glanced up at the white structure behind them. “You moved on to something a lot more modern. This house is a completely different proposition.”
“It’s a good investment—it’s everything the market wants. Great architectural style. Location.” He gestured to the sea shimmering in the setting sun. “The value has more than doubled.”
There was no point saying it had been Jilly’s house, not his. It had never felt like home.
Candace brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You want me to believe that you sold the Victorian house to upgrade to something that needed less restoration and was a better monetary investment?”
He met her gaze levelly. “What other reason could there be?”
She made an impatient sound in her throat. “Mrs. Busby thought you lived here because Jilly loved it.”
After a pause, Nick said, “Sounds like Mrs. Busby and you had a real heart-to-heart chat.”
Leaning forward, Candace touched his arm. Lightning forked along his skin. “She wasn’t gossiping,” she said earnestly. “She’s very fond of you.”
“That surprised you?”
She looked startled by his question. Finally, she said, “Truthfully?”
“By all means be truthful.”
Nick braced himself, and hoped she wouldn’t be too truthful.
“Yes, it did surprise me. You come across as being very distant and remote. Not the kind of man who would be easy to work for. Yet she’s adamant that you’re the best employer she’s ever had—even though she seems to have found Jilly…” Candace hesitated “…trying sometimes. Not that she said it in so many words. It was more in what she didn’t say—and how much she raved about you.”
“Mrs. Busby deserves a raise—for loyalty at the very least. Because Jilly could be trying.” And demanding. And insecure. And like the house she adored, with its plethora of glass and mirrors that needed constant shining, she’d been high-maintenance.
“Do you miss her terribly?”
Nick didn’t hesitate. “No.”
Candace’s eyes widened and her mouth formed an O.
“Did you want me to lie to you?”
“My impression was that you were everything she’d ever wanted.”
Nick looked away. He fumbled and drew the gold wedding band off his finger. “It’s long past time to take this off. What Jilly and I had could hardly be called a marriage.”
The sound of Candace’s sharply drawn breath filled the sudden silence.
“Nick—”
He didn’t look at her. “Jilly is dead. I don’t want to conduct a postmortem over a marriage that never even got off the ground.”
Her hand stroked along his arm. “I never meant to—”
Man, she was killing him. The worst of it was she had no clue. Finally, he looked at her. “I should never have married Jilly.”
Her eyes were so soft he could’ve sworn she understood what he felt. The confusion. The guilt. The frustration at the lost years.
The yearning for a woman like her.
Her hand released him, and he felt the loss. Picking up her wineglass, Candace took a deep sip.
Nick knew how she felt. Except she had no idea how bad he had it—the whole damn bottle of wine wouldn’t ease the desire that heated him, it would only inflame it. And Nick had no intention of losing sight of the most important aspect of his existence—his control.
However much he wanted Candace.
He knew the time had come to retreat. Before he lost his head and did something he might later regret. Rising to his feet, he said, “I have a long day tomorrow. I think I’ll turn in.”