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Then he kissed her.
No. Not accurate.
Kissed implied he gave her a peck on the cheek, like he had Grace. Or maybe that he’d pressed his lips against hers in polite exploration.
That’s not what happened. He’d taken what he wanted.
And not only had she let him, she’d been an enthusiastic participant.
But some part of the man who stood in her kitchen now still carried the pain and bitterness of her rejection eight years ago. He wanted answers.
Then he planned to leave her. After all, he had a date with Grace on Sunday.
Fitting, really.
“Why you?” The question that had been simmering in the back of her mind slipped out.
The egg she was cracking on the rim of the glass measuring cup full of buttermilk collapsed, leaking bits of albumen and shell through her fingers and down her wrists.
“Crap.” She washed the ruined mess from her hands.
Her life was a mess, too.
Ryder’s arms unfolded and dropped to his sides. “I run the executive protection division.” He gestured toward her culinary project. “I always loved your cornbread.” A hint of turbulence shadowed his eyes, then disappeared.
She knew that. She’d made it for him when they were at Oxford.
Was that why she was making it now?
“I had no idea you were part of Dìleas. Why did you come instead of sending the first guy, Caleb, when you found out it was me?” She sneaked a peek to see his reaction.
As usual, Ryder’s expression gave nothing away. “He couldn’t leave his current assignment. I was the only one available.”
Ouch.She turned her head to blink away a sudden sheen of moisture. He’d come because he had to, not because he wanted to see her after all these years.
He stepped closer, close enough that she could smell his woodsy, spicy scent.
“Was it worth it?”
Her hand froze, mid-whisk. Probably because her heart just stopped.
Did he know what she did? Had he found out somehow?
She gave him her back and folded together the dry and wet ingredients, willing her fingers to stop trembling. “My father needed me.”
“I needed you.” Maybe he could keep his feelings off his face, but a trace of bitterness leached into his words. “I would have come with you if you’d let me.”
Her head shook in instinctive denial. He’d had everything. Wealth. Privilege. Job security. A family not broken by death. The only reason she was able to agree to the Faustian bargain she’d made was because she convinced herself hedidn’tneed her. He’d loved her, yes, but he hadn’tneededher the way her family had.
She gave up Ryder for her father. Who’d still died far too young and before he could see his dream realized.
Opening the oven door, she removed the piping hot skillet, added melted butter and the cornbread batter, and returned it to the oven. “Look, maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to stay here, twenty-four–seven. After the security system upgrades your colleague installed this afternoon, this place is like Fort Knox.”
If he stayed here, one of two things was likely to happen, neither of which would end well. They’d have sex. Or she’d wind up telling him the truth about why she broke up with him.
He’d leave hating her.
She’d been willing to live without him when she thought he’d be happier in the long run. But knowing he hated her, regretted the time they’d had together, wished he’d never seen her again? She wasn’t sure she could live with that.