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But why? Why would he? I don’t know him.
A line forms between his brows as he watches me. He steps around the table, striding toward me. As he moves closer the air tugs and pulls between us.
He holds out his hand.
I stare at it. At his hand held out to me.
I’m jarred into action. “Nice to meet you, Mr. McCormick,” I say, placing my hand in his.
His hand is warm and his clasp firm. Sparks light and travel up my arm, all the way to my heart.
His brow wrinkles at my formal words and the impersonal grip of my hand.
“You don’t know me?” he asks.
His voice is rolling, with a lilting accent that reminds me of sunny afternoons listening to waves rolling over a sandy beach.
I pull my hand free. Step back. “No, of course not. We’ve never met.”
He blinks then. One blink. And all the coursing waves, the heat, the scorch and want in his gaze is pulled back, reeled in, and put away.
I’m struck by the loss of it.
“You admire the watch my sister designed,” Daniel says, unaware of the world spinning and the sparks flying.
“Yes,” I say, my throat dry and my voice raw. “It’s here.”
I hold out my wrist to show Aaron the watch. He studies it for a moment, his head tilted down, heat pouring off him and pooling in my belly.
He nods then, his hands clasped behind his back. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“You didn’t name it for anyone?” he asks, studying me, his expression carefully neutral.
“No. No one. I’m sorry for the mistake. But”—I shrug, smiling at him even though it hurts—“at least you’re here and now Daniel will have fun kitting out your crew.”
“Ah.” Aaron nods. “Right. Well.” He glances at Daniel, smiles. “My kids are at the bookstore near our hotel. I should be off.” He turns back to me. “It was nice meeting you.”
I nod. “Yes. You too.”
Daniel takes his hand then, giving a firm shake. “Thanks for stopping by. Do you need a driver to take you to ...?”
“Carouge,” he says. “Amy, my daughter, found a bookshop she loves.”
He smiles then and I’m tugged toward him at the tight beating in my chest.
“I’ll call a driver for you,” Daniel says.
“No need—I have a car.” Aaron strides back to the table, grabbing a leather bag and a gray wool coat.
He pauses and looks to me, and I know he’s about to say goodbye. There’s a terrible emptiness in my chest at the thought of it, so I hurriedly say, “Let me walk you out.”
His brown eyes search mine and then he nods.
He’s quiet as we walk down the halls toward the front entrance. As we leave the back halls the wood transitions to marble, and the white walls gain rich wood paneling.
I move close to Aaron as we squeeze past a group of people chatting. And once we’re past I stay close. My hand brushes against his; our arms touch. I can feel the whisper of the wool coat he’s wearing and the heat of him.
