She closed her eyes, willing the tears away. You’re stronger than this. It’s not the same. You can stop before you get in too deep. Walk away. That chapter was gone. She’d turned the page.
She picked up her nightgown and crept out of Aiden’s room. What happened in Miami stayed in Miami. That was the only way this was going to work.
* * *
Aiden woke to an empty bed. He even rolled to his side to touch the spot where he was certain Sarah had been last night. The sheets were cold, as if she’d never been there. He propped himself up on one elbow and raked his fingers through his hair, scanning the room for evidence he wasn’t dreaming. But last night had happened. He and Sarah had made love. More than once. It wasn’t his mind weaving a fantasy. It had been real.
He sat up to see if his clothes were where he’d left them. They weren’t. They were draped over the arm of a chair. Most notably, her nightgown was missing from the floor. Huh. He’d made graceful exits from trysts. It’d never happened to him, but Sarah had a habit of keeping him on his toes. Luckily, there were only so many places she could be. He pulled on a clean pair of boxer briefs and began his search. He didn’t need to go far.
“Morning.” She spoke from behind the newspaper, seated at the dining table, a cup of coffee next to her. “I hope it’s okay I ordered breakfast. I was starving and I figured we should get on with our day.”
He rubbed his eyes and wandered over to her, struggling to make sense of this version of Sarah. This wasn’t at all how he’d expected their morning would go. “You’re already dressed and everything.”
She didn’t look up, eyes trained on the paper. “Packed and ready to go.”
Sure enough, her suitcase was parked next to the front door. “You realize we can leave whenever we want, right? The jet will be waiting whenever we get to the airport. There was no need to rush.” I was hoping for some morning sex to start my day.
“We have a lot to do today. I already spoke to Katie in Sylvia’s office. We have a call this afternoon at four. I also called the nanny agency and told them we need more candidates to interview today. It’s Thursday, Aiden. There’s only so much time until I go home.”
Well then. Aiden was used to being the distant one the morning after, the one who made it clear all roads ended here. He respected the tack Sarah took, even if it didn’t add up. He’d been sure she was the girl who liked morning cuddles and romantic remembrances of the night before. Apparently not.
There was only one conclusion—her business was her top priority. He’d be a hypocrite to let that bother him. She’d had her big break and it was of her making. She’d be a fool to lose focus, even if they’d shared what he believed to be a special night.
It still didn’t sit well with him, although he couldn’t discern why. What was this uneasy feeling in his stomach? The one that made him want to take her hand and say sweet things. What was the feeling that made him hope she’d say sexy things in return, flutter her lashes and deliver a proposition he couldn’t refuse with her unforgettable lips? Should we go back to bed?
He pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Caffeine might help him find clarity.
Sarah finally made eye contact. “No shirt at the breakfast table?”
Was he in some alternate universe? “You were fine with me not wearing a shirt last night.”
She cleared her throat and folded up the newspaper, casting it aside. “That was last night. Today is today.”
“Okay, well. I don’t feel like getting up and getting a shirt. So you’ll have to put up with my chest. Hopefully you can control yourself.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll manage.”
This was so stupid. He didn’t put up with crap like this. “Did I miss a memo or something? Did we not enjoy ourselves last night? Did I do or say something wrong?”
She downed the last of her orange juice and folded her napkin. “Of course we enjoyed ourselves. It was nice.”
Nice?
“But it’s time for me to get back to work.” With that, she got up from the table.
Aiden grasped her arm. “Okay. I get it.” Touching her was a bad idea. He was overcome with that unfamiliar feeling again. It made him want to say things he’d normally never say. Can we talk? What are you thinking? What was wrong with him? Too much sun? “You’re right. We need to get back to New York to take care of the nanny situation.”
“The clock is ticking.”
“It is.” He let go of her arm, now struck with the feeling that not touching her was the bad idea. He needed to get his head on straight. He was not himself this morning. “Give me a few minutes to scarf down some breakfast and read the sports page, then I’ll hop in the shower and we can be out the door.”