"Listen to me," he repeated. "It wasn't your fault."
"I guess it just feels that way."
And it was hard not to believe that their problems weren't because of her, too. If she were only a little more sophisticated, maybe they could have kept going. Enjoyed an exciting affair like a couple of grown-ups. Parted later, down the road, with affection.
She made herself get going and Gray followed her inside the hospital. After kissing her grandmother on her cheek, Joy and Gray walked out together. He led the way over to a nondescript rental sedan.
As they pulled away from the complex, she said, "You know, it just dawned on me. I don't know if I thanked you for what you did last night. You saved Grand-Em's life. At the risk of your own."
He shrugged. "There was no way I was going to let your grandmother die while you watched. Not when there was some way I could get to her."
They were silent until they reached the ferry that would take them back to New York State.
"I thought you had to return to the city," she said as they drove onto the boat's flat deck.
"I do. I'm heading down as soon as I drop you off at my house."
"Oh." She knitted her fingers together in her lap. "It was generous of you to let my family stay with you last night. I promise we'll find somewhere else to live as soon as we can."
"The hell you will. And don't start. I've already had this argument with your sister. She didn't win it and neither will you. The house is empty and Libby loves taking care of people. You and your family will stay for however long it takes. Through the spring. I don't care."
As the ferry trudged across Lake Champlain, Joy looked out the car window at the water. The waves were dark and choppy, reflecting the fast-moving clouds overhead.
"Gray?" She glanced across at him. He was staring out the front windshield, at the opposite shore. His brows were together, his eyes unblinking.
"Yeah?"
"Am I ever going to see you again?" The question was out before she could stop it.
"Do you honestly want to?" he said softly.
Good question, she thought. And probably one she shouldn't answer, at least not out loud. Because what had really changed between them?
She opened her mouth anyway. "After I saw you go into that fire last night, and the second explosion hit, I was convinced you were dead. I couldn't breathe I hurt so much."
When he didn't answer, when his expression didn't change, she turned away.
There was a long pause and then she heard him shifting in his seat. "Here. Take this."
She looked back over to him. He was holding out a thin card. "What is it?"
"The key to my suite at the Waldorf. I talked with Cassandra this morning. She's leaving for a couple of weeks so you won't be able to stay with her when you come down to the city. I want you to use my place. I'm going to be in Washington for most of the next month."
It was a logistical response, addressing nothing of what she'd been getting at, so she could only assume things really were over.
"That's very kind of you," she said stiffly, thinking there was no way in hell she was going to take him up on the offer. "But I can find-"
"You will stay with me when you're in the city. It's safer."
She frowned at his dictatorial tone. "Gray, I'm not your responsibility."
"I want to take care of you."
"Why? I'm operating under the assumption that we ended things last night."
He ignored the statement. "Two weeks from today I'm throwing a party in your honor at the Congress Club. Cass is contacting the fashion editors of Women's Wear Daily, Vogue and the Times. They'll all be coming. And she's going to try and get back to the city in time for it, as well."
Joy stared at him, dumbfounded. "Why are you-"
"I suggest you bring a number of your sketches so they can be posted in frames around the reception area. You will also address the crowd, so start thinking about your remarks. No more than six to eight minutes and I'll look them over for you before the event, if you like."
"Answer me, Gray," she said sharply. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I want to help you."
"Why?"
"After the event, when you're written up in the three publications, you'll get a big response. You're going to need to hire an assistant and get a New York phone number, but the folks in my office will help set those up."
She shook her head. "I can't let you do this. I won't let you."
"I already have. All you need to do is show up."
"Which I'm not going to do." God, she was never going to understand the man. There was nothing between them, and he was planning all this for her?
"Don't be silly, Joy. Of course you'll be there."
"No. I. Won't."
In the long silence that followed, she thought perhaps that was the end of the conversation. But then he reached across the seat and took her hand.
"Do you know what kept me up last night?" His words seemed slow, rusty. As if he were forcing them. "After the flames were out, some of the firemen were walking around with flashlights. One of them stood in front of what was left of that stove and said he was surprised that no one was killed. I, uh, I pictured you, reheating that stew you were having, stirring a spoon in a pan. And I imagined what would have happened if I hadn't showed up. If we hadn't been talking in the study when the thing … "
His hand squeezed hers so hard she nearly cried out. But then he loosened his fingers and stroked her wrist.
"Look, I'm lousy at relationships, Joy, but I know all about positioning people for success. At least I can do right for you in one way." When she stayed silent, he rubbed his thumb over her palm. "Okay?"
"No, it really isn't. I feel like we're back where we were, skating around each other, not really committed to anything. Tied together, but not really."
"Then just take me out of it and think in terms of your designs. You loved working with Cass, didn't you? And the result was fantastic. She said she was beating compliments off all night long at the Hall Gala. Now, you've got some other clients. You play this right and you could make a living doing what you love. This reception will help you get there."
She forced herself to get past her frustration. He was right in one respect. She did love working with the clients and making the gowns. And this kind of opportunity for a young designer starting out on her own was like winning the lottery.
But how could she let him do this?
"Joy?"
God, the girl in her wanted to turn him down because the whole thing was linked to Gray when she really wasn't. But the woman in her pointed out she'd be nuts to pass on the exposure.
"I just wish I understood you better," she said softly.
But then she thought, No, that's wrong. She understood him perfectly well. What she wished was that he could commit to her and to hell with her career plans.
"I want to do one thing right with you," he said. "Just one thing, I want to do right. I'd consider it a … favor, if you'd let me do this."
The rest of the trip back to his house was a quiet one. After he pulled up to the back door, he led her inside.
"I'll bet you want a shower and a lie-down," he said. "Let me show you where you'll sleep."
She followed him upstairs and down a corridor that ran to the lake side of the house. At the end, he opened a door into a room that was done in black, cream and gold.
"You'll be staying in my room."
Her eyes immediately went to the bed.
"Don't worry, Libby changed the sheets."
When she heard the door shut, she turned around, thinking he'd left her.
But no. He was still in the room.
"Bath's through there," he said, nodding to a corner.
She looked over. "So it is."
There was a long silence. She frowned, thinking he had an odd expression on his face, one she couldn't quite read. He was staring at her, his big body very still.
"Forgive me," he said in a low voice.
"For what?"
"This."
He crossed the distance between them in two strides, took her face into his hands, and kissed her as though he really meant it.
Hard. Demanding. Deep.
After she got over the shock, she fell against his body, grabbing his back. Too soon, he was breaking the kiss and putting his head down on her shoulder.
"Joy … " He took a deep breath. "It kills me to think of you with another man, but I'm not going to curtail your life. I hope you see whoever you want to up here. Just know that I'll be thinking of you. Wanting you. And I hope when you're down in the city, we can … be together."
"Together how?"
He lifted his head and kissed her, burying his hands in her hair. The force of his passion burned through her clothes, her skin, her heart.
"I keep thinking I'll be able to let you go," he murmured. "But I can't seem to do it."
Well, at least that was something she could understand. For all the reasons she needed to cut him loose, the idea of never seeing him again gave her the cold cringes.
But she just couldn't comprehend how he thought she'd be with anyone else.
"What's it going to take," she whispered, "for you to trust me?"
Gray shook his head. "I don't have to trust you."
"You're wrong about that."
"No, I'm not. I want you. That's enough."
After he left, she sat down on the bed, thinking she'd phrased it wrong. She needed to feel trusted if they were going to be together.