She hadn’t been sleeping well lately and hoped tonight would be different. She was so tired now, she thought she might just fall asleep the second her head hit the pillow, but to be sure, she would go down to the kitchen and brew a cup of chamomile tea. Not bothering to put on her slippers, she picked up her silk robe and padded out into the hallway. She was tying the sash on her robe and didn’t notice the box of books she’d left sitting on the landing until she tripped into it, lost her balance, and went flying down the stairs. The box careened down the steps with her, and she landed on her backside with books all around her. It was the last straw in a miserable day. She leaned into the banister and burst into tears. She could have broken her neck, and no one would have known until they found her decomposing body days later. Oh Lord, what a depressing thought. She was so caught up in her misery she didn’t hear the pounding on the door.
Aiden had just climbed the steps to her front door when he heard a commotion and a loud thud coming from inside. He called her name, but there wasn’t any response. About to break in, he realized he hadn’t tried the doorknob. He’d assumed it was locked, but it wasn’t. He rushed inside and was met with the sight of Cordie sobbing as she pushed books off her and tried to get up from the floor.
“Are you hurt?” His worry made him sound angry.
She wasn’t in the mood to be sociable. “Go away.”
“Are you hurt?” He repeated the question, though now his voice was calmer.
“No.”
He rubbed the back of his neck while he studied her. He wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t like Cordelia to be difficult. She always had it together. But not tonight. He picked up the books and stacked them in the box in the corner of the foyer; then he turned back to her. She was still crying. He wanted to tell her to stop.
“Why are you crying?”
Her first inclination was to glare at him, but she was too weary to give it her best effort. She grabbed the banister and, wincing, pulled herself up.
He moved forward and, before she realized his intent, lifted her into his arms and carried her upstairs.
“Did you know your front door was unlocked? Anyone could have come in. You live alone, Cordelia. You should make certain your doors are always locked and your alarm is always on,” he scolded as they ascended the steps.
“I don’t have an alarm.”
“You’re getting one,” he snapped.
Aiden’s mind raced with all the terrible things that could have happened to her, and he was furious about her cavalier attitude toward her safety. There was only one bedroom door open and he headed there. He could have put her down, but he didn’t. She weighed next to nothing in his arms. He sat on the side of the bed with her in his lap, his arms wrapped around her as he waited for her tears to stop flowing. Her head was down on his shoulder, and she was so soft cuddled against him. He had the sudden urge to get the hell away from her. He was reacting to her in a way he didn’t like.
She finally stopped crying and leaned back so she could look into his eyes. “Why are you here?”
“I got stuck . . .” He stopped before he hurt her feelings with the truth. “Regan was worried about you. You weren’t answering your phone,” he explained. “She knew I was out, so she called my cell and asked me to stop by and check on you, and it’s a damned good thing I did.”
“Why? As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.” She sniffed.
Aiden said, “You were sprawled at the bottom of your steps.”
“I was sitting, not sprawling,” she corrected.
“Wearing this flimsy see-through nightgown.”
“You can’t possibly see through this material.” She looked down and saw that her robe was open, exposing a fair amount of her breasts because of the gown’s low neckline. “Oh,” she said as she quickly pulled the robe closed. She glanced up and met Aiden’s eyes. He was looking at her in a way he’d never done before, as though he was seeing her for the very first time as a woman. A warm, tingling sensation coursed through her body.
“Let go of me and go home. I’m fine, I promise. Tell Regan I’ll call her tomorrow, and thank you, Aiden, for taking time to check on me.”
Her arms were still around his neck. She leaned up and kissed him on his cheek, then started to move away, but he didn’t loosen his hold. He continued to stare into her eyes as though he was searching for something inside her.
The strangest thing happened then. Maybe it was just curiosity to find out what it would feel like, or maybe it was just plain lust on her part. She kissed him again, this time on the lips. He didn’t pull away. He nudged her chin down and gently kissed her back. Then, taking her face in his hands, he deepened the kiss, passion igniting when his tongue swept inside her mouth. He was so incredibly hot and demanding, overwhelming her. He made love to her with his mouth while he caressed her. His hand cupped her breast and he groaned.
Aiden was lost in the moment. It was only when he felt her tremble that he came to his senses. He pulled back, forcing her to let go of him, then lifted her off his lap and dropped her onto the bed.
Cordie was so flustered she didn’t know what to say or do. She could see he was upset. He walked to the door, turned back to her, and said, “I’ll lock up. You get some sleep.”
And he was gone.
She sat there a long while trying to make sense of what had just happened. She’d ruined everything. She was embarrassed and mortified. What must he think of her? She’d all but attacked the man. How could she ever face him again? Maybe she was overreacting. It had just been a few kisses—long, intense, unbelievably arousing kisses that all but turned her inside out—but they meant nothing.
After she calmed down she came up with a plan should she run into him anytime soon. She would behave like an adult. Yes, they had shared an intimate moment, but it was still possible to go back to the way things used to be. He would ignore her, and she would do her best to ignore him.
Monday Cordie was back at work. She was busy, but Aiden kept popping into her thoughts. As the days progressed, it became easier to push him to the back of her mind. Each night she went through one of the boxes her father had packed when he’d sold his house. She assumed it would be easy to find more information about her mother, thinking that there had to be some papers or photos stashed away in one of the boxes. But she was wrong about that.
The last three weeks of school were hectic, and the search to learn more about Natalie was put on hold. She made a copy of the horrid letter and took it with her when she met her friends for dinner at the Hamilton Hotel. She had tried to get them to eat somewhere else because she didn’t want to chance running into Aiden, who lived in the penthouse at the top of the hotel. He traveled so much he was rarely there, but still, she didn’t want to risk it.
Then, during a phone conversation with Sophie, after Cordie had suggested two different restaurants, Sophie mentioned that Jack and Alec were going to be at the hotel playing poker with a couple of the Vice detectives from the Chicago Police Department.
“It’s their monthly poker game,” she said. “Jack thinks he has a chance of winning a hand or two since Aiden is still in San Francisco. Whenever Aiden plays, he wins.”
Cordie relaxed. She was worried she wouldn’t be able to control her reaction to him, and she had decided the only way she could move on with her life was to stay as far away from him as possible. She was more determined than ever not to turn into her father and waste her life hoping for the impossible.
After a stressful day rushing from one meeting to another, then enduring a frustrating session with the principal of St. Matthew’s, Cordie was ready for a glass of wine.
Regan had reserved one of the smaller private dining rooms at the Hamilton so they wouldn’t be disturbed. The room was just off the bar, and with the doors closed it was nearly soundproof, a perfect place to share secrets and gossip. They could laugh as loud as
they wanted and not worry about bothering other diners. On the other side of the bar, tucked into an alcove, was the door to another dining room, one the men used for poker games. It was isolated from the rest of the hotel but close enough to the bar to get beer and anything else they wanted.
Cordie was supposed to meet her friends at seven thirty, and she hadn’t had time to go home and change her clothes. Dressed in a cream-colored pencil skirt, a deep-blue silk blouse, and nude high heels, she had looked very businesslike all day in her meetings, but she would have preferred to be wearing something more comfortable when she was with her friends. Her hair was driving her crazy hanging in her face, so she put it up in a ponytail. The long mass swung back and forth as she rushed through the shiny brass revolving doors into the Hamilton.
Cordie loved the hotel. There was a quiet elegance about the place. It had a contemporary feel with the shiny marble floors and granite pillars, yet the furnishings were old-world. The soothing colors and the comfortable seating areas made guests want to linger. She knew the Hamilton like the back of her hand; she had visited it at least once a week when Regan lived there before she got married.
Cordie realized she was practically running across the lobby and forced herself to slow down. A man dressed in a business suit and tie tried to engage her in conversation as she entered the bar. She smiled at him and shook her head to his invitation to buy her a drink. She walked past him and opened the door to the dining room but was blocked from going any farther. Aiden was standing just inside the doorway talking to Alec and Jack. He grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her from rolling over him.
She wasn’t happy to see him and said the first thought that came into her mind. “Why aren’t you in San Francisco?” Her tone was accusatory, which she realized wouldn’t make a lick of sense to him. Before he could ask her what was wrong with her, she blurted, “Are you playing poker tonight?”
“Yes, I thought I would.” Aiden smiled then because he heard Jack groan. Glancing at him, he said, “Relax, MacAlister. You might win a hand. You never know. Miracles do happen.”
Cordie was distracted by his wonderful smile. It was so sexy. He was such a beautiful man. His eyes turned warm and tender when he was happy. Smiling was a rarity to him, though. He was usually very serious about everything, especially when he was working on his next hotel deal. There was no question Aiden was a workaholic, yet somehow he made a bit of time for rugby, poker, and women . . . skinny blond women.
That reminder helped her get her head back together. Aiden still had hold of her. Wanting to distance herself from him, she gently pushed his hands away, took a step back, and then walked around him to get to the table. She noticed Alec was watching her, his expression puzzled.
“What has you frowning, Alec?” she asked.
“Not frowning,” he countered. “Just observing.”
Regan pulled out a chair for her. “Sit. We have lots to talk about.”
Sophie sat across from Cordie at the small round table. “It’s all good news,” she said. “Except for Jack.” She looked up at her husband and smiled. “He hates Chicago winters.”
“And?” Cordie prodded.
“We’re staying in Chicago. That’s where the Bureau wants him. He and Alec were both promoted and will continue to work together.”
“Here in Chicago,” Regan supplied. “They’re both assigned here indefinitely. No more back-and-forth to Boston for Alec and me.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Cordie said. “But what about your town house in Boston?”
“Actually, Alec’s brother Nick still owns it,” Regan said. “Alec didn’t do the paperwork. Neither one of us has had time, and Nick wasn’t in any hurry. He’s going to put it on the market next month.”
“I love that town house,” Cordie said. She had stayed there a couple of times with Regan when Alec was out on assignment. The town house had been completely remodeled and was located in a coveted neighborhood. She loved Boston, too, almost as much as she loved her hometown.
“For a while we thought Alec’s brother Michael might buy it, but he decided not to. I’m not sure why.”
“He’s based in San Diego,” Alec said. “And these days he rarely gets back to Boston. The town house would sit empty for months at a time.”
“But when he leaves the Navy SEALs . . . ,” Regan began.
“I don’t think he plans to leave anytime soon, sweetheart,” Alec said.
“Cordelia?” Aiden called her name, then walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.
“Yes?”
“How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
He tugged on her ponytail. She reached up to swat his hand away.
“Do you need anything?” he asked.
She shook her head. His hands were still on her shoulders, but his attention had moved on. “Are we going to play poker or not?” After asking the question, he squeezed Cordie’s shoulders, then turned and walked out of the room. His attitude toward her was so casual; apparently he’d forgotten all about kissing her. She wished she could do the same.
“I’m playing,” Jack said. He rounded the table and bent down to kiss Sophie. Alec also kissed his wife, then whispered something that made her laugh.
Cordie watched the two couples, and for the first time since both of her friends had married, she felt like a fifth wheel. What had happened to her self-confidence? It seemed to have vanished. Since her father’s death she’d been on autopilot, but now the numbness was wearing off and she was beginning to feel again. There was so much to process and try to understand. Terrified that she was heading down the same desolate road her father had chosen, she was questioning everything about her life and the choices she had made. She didn’t know where she belonged anymore. Her life seemed so empty now. Was she just feeling sorry for herself? Maybe, she decided. She’d admit she was a bit depressed, but who wouldn’t be after reading those heartbreaking letters her father had written to her mother begging her to come back to him?
A waiter appeared to take their drink orders. Cordie had thought she would drink wine, and a lot of it, but now that she was with her friends and starting to relax, she decided she wanted iced tea. Sophie and Regan ordered the same thing.
“We’re such sophisticated drinkers,” Regan said with a laugh. “We should have ordered champagne to celebrate the fact that we’re all going to stay in Chicago. For a while there I thought Jack and Sophie were going to be transferred to Phoenix, and Alec and I were going to be transferred to Boston permanently, but it all worked out. All of us will be together in the city we love. Even Aiden and Spencer will be home more often.”
“Aiden and Spencer?” Cordie asked.
“Spencer told me, once Aiden gets the hotel in Florida up and running, he plans to cut way back on travel. In the past year he’s flown all over the world, to Hong Kong, Paris, London, Melbourne, and Sydney, and all over the United States. I hope he’ll slow down, but I won’t believe it until I see it. He practically lives on the Gulfstream.”
“The Gulfstream is a beautiful jet,” Cordie said. “The bedroom’s nicer than mine.”
“Is Aiden still staying on the top floor of the hotel when he’s in town?” Sophie asked. “If he’s around more, maybe he’ll buy a place of his own.”
“It’s doubtful,” Regan answered. “The penthouse seems to work for him. Aiden really hates clutter, and the penthouse is sleek, clutter-free.”
“It’s beautiful but sterile,” Sophie said. “Very impersonal.”
“I can understand the appeal. I live in a clutter-free environment,” Cordie said.
Regan and Sophie laughed. “Maybe in your dreams,” Regan said. “You’re always surrounded by clutter.”
“Not at work,” Cordie insisted. “Chemistry is a precise science, and if I weren’t organized in the lab, it would be a
disaster. It’s just that, when I’m home, I want to relax. Besides, the clutter is mostly books,” she said.
“And scarves and shoes and keys and—” Sophie added.
Cordie interrupted. “It isn’t that bad,” she said. “And we weren’t talking about me. You were catching us up on your brothers. What’s going on with Spencer? Is he going to stay in Chicago?”
“For now,” Regan answered.
“And Walker?” Sophie asked. “I know he’s still racing cars all over Europe, but when he retires, will he come back to Chicago?”
“That’s a whole other story,” Regan said. “And not a happy one.”
“What’s going on?” Cordie asked.
“According to Spencer, our brother Walker still hasn’t grown up. I agree with him,” she said. “Walker is seven years older than I am, but he still acts like an impulsive teenager. There are two lawsuits against him, both involving women he jilted. The women’s lawyers are trying to get their greedy fingers on the hotels. It won’t happen,” she rushed to add. “Still, it’s a worry Aiden doesn’t need. He just settled another suit for Walker, and we had to pay quite a lot of money. Even though it was ruled an accident, Walker was responsible. There weren’t any life-threatening injuries, but it’s only a matter of time before something catastrophic happens. I wish Walker would figure out his life.”
“I wish I could figure out mine.” Cordie didn’t realize she’d said the thought out loud until Sophie asked her to explain what she meant. She was saved from having to answer when the waiter interrupted to take their dinner orders. Because they had dined at the hotel so many times, they didn’t have to look at the menu. Sophie and Regan ordered a Caesar salad with chicken, and Cordie was in the mood for salmon.
She waited until the waiter left the room and then said, “Natalie Kane, my mother—though calling her ‘mother’ gives me the willies—left my father a farewell letter.” Her voice was filled with sadness as she added, “He kept it all these years. He wrote several letters to her, too, but they were all returned unopened. Those letters were in the lockbox along with the marriage certificate and divorce decree.”
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