Because frankly, it had partly been her fault. Not the cheating or the breakup obviously, but staying in the relationship as long as she had. Being on Fisher’s arm for countless hospital functions and fund-raising events had lodged the correct responses to every question in her brain until her originality had faded along with any genuine feeling she had for him. She’d made excuses for their missing connection, telling herself that once he established his career, they would spend more time together.
She hadn’t wanted to fail.
Had she actually thought marriage would fix what was broken? Story suspected that a tiny part of her, one she didn’t want to identify, simply hadn’t wanted to end up alone like her mother. As much as she loved and respected Lynette, she relied too much on Story to cure her loneliness. Her lack of companionship. What Story didn’t take into account? Simply being in a relationship didn’t necessarily equate to happiness.
Suspecting Lynette was currently operating under the strain of guilt since she’d adored Fisher and had encouraged Story to accept his proposal, she’d e-mailed back to reassure her mother that she would be fine, not to worry, and she loved her. Hopefully it would hold her for an hour or two while she visited with Jack.
Pushing through the revolving glass door of the hospital, ice-cold air-conditioning rushed over her bare arms and she immediately regretted not bringing a sweater. Families and medical personnel buzzed through the lobby. Skirting her way through the fray, she saw the crowd of people waiting at the elevator bank and sighed. By the time she got upstairs, Jack’s coffee would be freezing. Deciding the exercise couldn’t hurt, she bypassed the elevator bank in favor of the stairs.
She’d almost reached the eighth floor when a door leading into the stairwell opened and closed above her, followed by descending footsteps heading in her direction. Swallowing nervously, she considered exiting the stairwell. Besides her and the unknown stranger, no one else was making use of the quiet stairway. With a glance to her left, she began walking in the direction of the seventh-floor exit when the stranger came into view.
“Story?”
“Daniel.” Relief swamped her, followed quickly by heightened awareness. Dressed in a navy-blue suit and crisp, white shirt, he looked heart-stoppingly handsome this morning, she noticed with a flash of annoyance. Some men looked uncomfortable in a suit, but Daniel wore it like a second skin. An image of weeping nurses tossing their panties at him as he walked the halls swam through her mind.
He glanced behind Story, then locked hard eyes back on her. “You shouldn’t be walking in here by yourself.”
“And good morning to you, too.” She shrugged, hands full with paper coffee cups. “There was a line at the elevator bank.”
“Next time, wait. It’s not safe.” He ran an impatient hand through his hair. “And while we’re on the subject, I hope you’re not planning any nights out by yourself. New York is a far cry from San Diego.”
Her positive attitude plummeted. Upon arriving in New York, she’d decided to stop letting other people make her decisions, and taking orders didn’t fit into her agenda. “If I do decide to go out by myself at night, what are you going to do about it? Put an APB out on me?” She did her best imitation of a man. “Yeah, officers, be on the lookout for a fully grown adult female out past eight o’clock. She’s gone rogue.”
His lips twitched. “Is that supposed to be an imitation of me? It needs work.”
Raising a delicate eyebrow, Story sipped her coffee.
Daniel sighed. “Look, I just talked to Jack. He doesn’t want you out late at night…unless I’m with you. You’re in a strange city and he wants you safe. So do I.”
Climbing the stairs to bypass him, she let her irritation show. “Oh, really? Who’s going to keep me safe from you? I think he’d change his mind if he knew you’d ordered me to lift my skirt within an hour of meeting me.”
He sucked in a breath as she passed. “Jesus, please don’t bring up yesterday. I’m trying my best to forget.”
Story flinched as though he’d slapped her.
Daniel paled, ascending the stairs to catch up with her. “Oh, baby. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Knowing her cheeks were bright red with embarrassment, she ducked her head and increased her pace, intent on getting out of the stairwell and away from Daniel as soon as possible. Before she reached the door, he caught her arm, halting her movement.
“Sunshine.” He turned Story to face him, lifting her chin and waiting for her to look him in the eye. “I loved everything about yesterday. How can you doubt that?”
She gave a tiny shake of her head. “You don’t have to explain. It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me,” he growled. “I’m not going to let you walk away thinking I didn’t love every second I spent touching you. Kissing your pretty mouth.”
His closeness registered along with the rawness of his words. “So why do you want to forget it?”
Dammit, she shouldn’t be asking that. It made her sound desperate. Wasn’t she, though? Desperate for him? Every cell in her body jumped to life under his simple touch. Apparently her response to him yesterday hadn’t been her imagination. Still, she knew his type. She’d resolved to stay away. Yet here she stood, asking for answers. Goading him.
Prying his gaze away from her mouth, Daniel reluctantly dropped his hand and stepped back, away from her. She felt the loss like a physical blow. Struggling not to reach out and pull him back against her, she waited.
He paced the landing, shadows moving across his face, cast by the dull light. “What happened yesterday…I can’t let it happen again. You’re Jack’s daughter and it’s not right. I owe him too much to put the moves on his daughter while he’s sick in the hospital.”
Casting her eyes to the ceiling, she laughed without humor. “And I’m not old enough to make my own decisions, right? Just like everything else. How have I survived the last twenty-five years without people organizing my life for me?” She turned on a heel to leave, but once again he stopped her with a hand on the door. “Move, Daniel. This coffee is getting cold.”
Daniel took the coffee cups from her hands and set them on the steps. “I don’t give a damn about the coffee. We’re going to talk about this.”
She threw her now-free hands up. “What’s to talk about? You’ve already made the decision for me. No more hanky-panky. It doesn’t require a formal meeting.”
His face came within inches of hers. “It does if I say it does. You need to know my reasons.”
“Why is this such a big deal to you?” She said through clenched teeth. “Can’t you just go upstairs and find a nurse to take my place? Maybe even an oncologist with a bob. Easy peasy.”
“You think this is easy for me?” He sounded angry. “Knowing what I know about you?”
“What are you talking about? You don’t know anything about me.”
Her back came up against the door. Bracing his hands above her head, he leaned down and spoke harshly against her ear. “Don’t I, gorgeous? I know you like a lot of tongue when you kiss. I know you hold your breath just before you come. I know your beautiful ass fits into my hands perfectly. I can still feel it there.”