Trouble (33 page)

Didn't take long, did it?

Just as she'd feared, Mike had blown her life to smithereens, and all it had taken was a few careless words. She'd loved him and given him everything—
everything
—and what was he doing? Enjoying time with a beautiful woman while it lasted.

Well, at least she'd found out now, before she'd invested any more time and energy in him. Before she'd spent another unspeakably tender night in his arms.

Yes, she needed to look on the bright side.

She'd been a fool last night, but she wouldn't be a fool tonight.

“I need to do some thinking, I guess,” Sean said. “About school. About my life.”

Dara blinked up at him, rewinding his words. “Do you really want to be a lawyer, Sean?”

He hesitated. “That's what I need to think about, isn't it?”

“You'll get it figured out. I know you will.”

He smiled. “What would I do without you?”

She shrugged.

“Oh, and I'm finished with the con law notes I borrowed. I forgot them in my car. Do you want to come down and get them?”

Yeah. Like she cared about some notes at a time like this.

“Sure,” she said anyway. “Let me get my keys.”

Mike
h
ummed as he pulled into Dara's parking lot after work that night, at peace with himself and the world. Lunch with Mama had been followed by a calming brain wave from on high that had put things in perspective for him: he and Dara could do what they'd been doing, which was take things one day at a time. No one had pointed a gun to his head and forced him to make a final decision about his future with Dara before nightfall, so why bother freaking out about it?

The future would reveal itself in good time. If that meant marriage—and he was thinking it probably did; he was approximately 90 percent sure about that now, to be honest—then they'd get married when the time was right.

Until then, he and Dara were in a good place.

The best possible place, in fact, he thought, remembering snippets of last night with a shit-eating grin.

He'd even killed two birds with one stone by getting her a Christmas present that enabled them to spend some time together over her break, when she'd go home to see her parents in Chicago. That way they wouldn't have to go weeks without seeing each other, an idea as appealing as a public prostate exam.

Yeah, he thought, still grinning, life was pretty freaking good—
hang on
.

Hang on. He squinted into the darkness, muscles tensing as he drove by. Was that Sean's car under the lights over there? And was that Dara standing by Sean's car, hugging Sean?

Typical. A twinge of annoyance killed the last of his grin.

By the time he'd finished parking, Sean was gone, thank God. Which gave him a little time to cool off. He really needed to notch down the jealousy thing, especially after last night.

Dara was his now. She wasn't going to run off with Sean.

Taking the stairs to Dara's apartment three at a time, he knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again, harder.

The door swung open.

“How's my angel?” he asked, his heart soaring as he reached out to hug and kiss her like he always did.

But Dara flinched away from him.

What the—?

Bewildered, he took a good look at her face and didn't like what he saw. The sparkle was gone from her eyes, making her look sad and flat, as though someone had died.

“What's wrong?” he asked, shutting the door with growing alarm.

She walked to the dimly lit living room, where the blinds were uncharacteristically still open even though it was past sunset. Only the light from the foyer table kept the room from complete darkness. Hadn't she noticed? He closed the blinds, then switched on the floor lamp next to the sofa.

That was better.

He moved toward her again, wanting to make sure she was okay, but she stiffened before he got within four feet of her.

He stopped dead. “Dara. You're scaring me.”

She opened her mouth. Shut her mouth. Took a deep breath. Opened her mouth again.

“I forgot my keys,” she said finally.

“Okay …” he said, more puzzled than before, wondering how she'd gotten home and into her apartment with no keys. “Do you need some help or—”

“So I went back to get them. To my office.”

“Okay …”

“And I overheard … you talking to your mother.”

Mike stared at her, his mind racing. It took a long minute for the words to sink in, although he knew immediately he'd done something terribly wrong. He struggled to remember exactly what he and Mama had said.

They'd talked a little about Sean, right, and she'd claimed he was in love with Dara and asked if he didn't want to marry her, he'd dodged the question, and …
Ah, shit
.

Shit. Shit. Fuck
.

“Dara—”

She backed away as if he'd approached her with a red-hot poker, her wide, miserable eyes riveted on his face, her voice oddly soothing.

“It's okay. You don't have to explain.”

“Of course, I have to explain. I know how it must have sounded, but—”

“It's not your fault,” she said reasonably, making him wonder why she wasn't furious with him. Where was the woman who'd never hesitated to read him the riot act when she thought he deserved it? “You never made me any promises and I guess I … I just assumed things that weren't really there.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid
, Mike thought, infuriated at himself. Why had he spouted that bullshit?

He hesitated as he gathered his words, knowing he'd never argued a more important case, not even the times his clients' appeals had gone to the Ohio Supreme Court.

“Dara, I do care about you. You know that. You
know
that.”

He touched her arm—maybe if he touched her he could start to bridge the gap between them—but she twisted out of reach and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Don't make it worse by saying things you don't mean.”

He held his hands out, palms up. “I do mean it! I mean … I'm sorry I said something so stupid, but
think
. Think about all the time we've spent together. You can't doubt how I feel about you.”

For the first time, her eyes wavered, but then her chin firmed and she scowled. “You called me your intern.”

Frustrated, Mike struggled to keep up with the flow of her thoughts.
“What?”

“When you introduced me to your mother, you called me your
intern
,” she said impatiently.

“You are my intern!”

Her lips twisted into a sneer. “The day after we made love for the first time, you told your mother I was your
intern
. Not your girlfriend or even your special friend.
Intern
.”

She spat the word out as if he'd called her a cannibal or pedophile.

“Dara, I hadn't had the chance to tell my mother about you yet. I needed to explain to her about you and me, and Sean—”

“You did explain,” she said on a humorless laugh. “I heard you loud and clear. You told her I was the beautiful woman you were enjoying.”

“Dara—”

A hand came up, silencing him.

“Maybe you do care for me, but not the way I thought you did. Not enough.”

The fear began then, shutting down all logical thought. Deep in the pit of his belly, a tiny spark of fear appeared, quickly burst into flame and left a blackened swath of desolation in its wake. All of his skills were failing him. He'd argued before judges, juries and courts of appeal, and more often than not he brought them around to his way of thinking.

But this time, in the conversation that was, he suddenly realized, the most important of his life, he wasn't getting through.

Dread washed over him, saturating his body.

“What are you saying?”

She blinked, her mouth turning down at the edges. “I'm saying sex isn't a casual thing to me, and I can't … I can't handle sleeping with someone who's just in it to have a little fun while it lasts.”

Mike went absolutely still, waiting for the ax to fall, incapable of speech.

Her chin quivered until she pressed her lips together. “I'm saying good-bye.”

“Good-bye,” he echoed softly.

She nodded miserably, watching him.

I need you, Dara. Don't you ever leave me. You promise me?

I promise
.

Good-bye
.

Mike reeled, trying to make sense of the snake's nest his life had become in the last two minutes.

Last night they'd made love, and he'd been part of her and said how much he needed her, and she'd cried in his arms and sworn she'd never leave him.

And today—less than twenty-four hours later—she was breaking her promise.

He faltered, trapped inside a red haze of alarm tinged with anger.

“You're breaking up with me … over a misunderstanding?” he managed to ask, his voice deathly quiet.

“There's no misunderstanding.”

Suddenly, her calmness enraged him more than anything else. What kind of woman would break her promise and do this to him—rip his guts out and stomp them into the ground—without listening to reason? Without even giving him a chance to explain?

“There
is
a misunderstanding!” he shouted. “You think I don't care about you, and I'm telling you I do!”

“Not enough.”

Tell her you love her
.

He lunged forward, grabbing her upper arms. Leaning down until they were nose to nose, he tried to stare her down, but she lowered her eyes and turned her head away.

“
Enough?
What's
enough
?”

She tried to shove him away. “Please let me go,” she said calmly, as if trying to talk a jumper down from a ledge. “You won't change my mind.”

His mind veered to Dara and Sean hugging in the parking lot a few minutes ago. Ugly thoughts crowded his brain and he latched on to one without thinking.

“What's this got to do with Sean?”

“Sean?”
She gaped at him. “What're you talking about?”

Of course she didn't know he'd seen them in the parking lot. Would she lie about it?

“I saw you with Sean outside,” he yelled, tightening his grip. “I saw you all hugged up to him! Did you think I didn't know?”

Tears shimmered in her eyes and her voice rose. “What are you talking about?”

“Maybe you've decided you want the other brother after all.” He turned her loose, unwilling to touch the body Sean had just touched. “Is that it? You thought maybe you'd compare us, see which one you like better? Is that it?”

“Get out! Don't you dare talk to me like that! You get out of my apartment!”

Planting her hands on his chest, she shoved hard, but he didn't budge.

“I'm not going anywhere until you tell me the truth!”

Crying now, she swiped angrily at her tears. “This is about you not caring about—”

Something inside him came unglued. How dare she tell him he didn't care for her! How dare she tell him how he felt! How dare she refuse to listen to reason! How dare she break her promise!

“Stop the bullshit, Dara!” He clenched and unclenched his hands and somehow resisted the urge to smash his fist through her wall. “I don't know how many different ways I can prove that I do care about you! I waited to have sex with you! I spent every waking moment with you! For God's sake, I gave you a key to my house—”

“Because it was convenient this morning,” she said, suddenly calm again.

“I gave you the key to my house!” he roared, thinking of Lisa and countless other women who would have killed for such access.

Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, she walked to the hall table, picked something up, and came back again. Then she held out her hand and there was his key, shining on her steady palm.

“I don't want it.”

“I gave it to you—”

“I don't want it.”

“I gave it to you!” He snatched the key and threw it as hard as he could across the room. It hit the wall to one side of the TV with a hard clink, then fell to the carpet along with a plum-sized chunk of paint and drywall. Before he could stop himself, he reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out the envelope with her Christmas present. It was an airline ticket, which he'd foolishly had his travel agent tie with a red satin ribbon.