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She held her hands firmly before her, refusing to show her anxiety to this man.
“Hendrix,” she said on a sigh, her eyes unable to move from his face. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“Of course.” He held his hand out, and Chloe could only stare at it. She realized, belatedly, that he was asking for her coat. She un-cinched it at the waist and handed it to him. She wore a simple grey cashmere sweater beneath.
He concentrated on not staring, and not drooling. He placed the coat on the hook behind his office door and turned to face her, trying with all his might to appear professional and friendly, rather than devoted and lecherous. “Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? Breakfast?”
She shook her head. Her eyes were enormous in her face.
“How’s Ellie?” He asked, indicating with remarkable calm that she should take a seat in one of the chairs in his office. She walked gracefully across the room and sat, cross-legged. He poured himself a coffee then settled opposite her.
“She’s fine. Talking non stop these days,” Chloe smiled proudly.
“And you?” His eyes were devouring her face, greedily soaking in every detail.
She nodded jerkily; a response he couldn’t quite fathom.
“I see you’ve gone back to your maiden name.”
A smile ghosted across her face. “Yes. Ellie, too.”
How had he ever allowed himself to go through with his plan? The insanity of grief had been profound; but that was no excuse.
As they stared at each other, the gulf of what they felt moved between them. The silence was charged with an electricity of need, want, hurt and confusion. And hope. At least, from Hendrix’s part. He was trying – desperately – to keep a grip on it. But how could he not have hope?
Here she was. Chloe. The reality of his dreams, sitting across from him.
“What can I do for you?” He prompted, careful to keep his voice neutral.
She toyed with her fingers in her lap. Her laugh was unsteady. “Straight to it, huh?” She couldn’t quite meet his eyes.
The suspense was eating through his stomach lining. “Another divorce?” He joked. “Legal advice?”
She shook her head. “No. Neither.”
He settled back in his seat. Though he took care to appear completely at ease, he was anything but. He knew he had to let her speak, in her own time.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” she said finally, the words dragged from her body as though she were stumbling over hot coals. She dropped her gaze to her lap again.
“Have you?” His murmur was encouraging.
“And your sister,” she said quietly. She closed her eyes and breathed in resolutely. “The thing is, I was so very angry at you that day. I didn’t get the answers I needed. And I can’t go to William. So I wondered …”
He saw her gulp, and her pain made his heart hurt. “You want me to tell you what I know about them?”
She nodded. “Did your sister know about me?” Her eyes were blue ice chips in her face.
He ran a hand over his beard. He’d given up shaving weeks ago, and black hair covered his square jaw. “You mean, did she knowingly enter into a relationship with a guy who was married?” He frowned. “I’ve asked myself the same thing. I can’t be certain. If she did, she never told me. And Eleanor wasn’t someone who would play second fiddle. So I’m forced to conclude that she was as much in the dark as you.”
Chloe exhaled slowly. “I’m so glad. I didn’t like the thought of her doing that to me.” Her expression clouded over. “I came to like your sister. Before. When we were… before that day.” Her cheeks coloured with a hint of pink. “You talk about her with such an easy affection, and the fact she shared Ellie’s name … I didn’t want to think …”
“Is that why you’re here?” The disappointment was sharp, but he consoled himself instantly. Because she was still there, in his office.
“No.” She frowned, and crossed her legs the other way. “Did you feel better?”
“Better?” He queried, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his thighs.
“After you had thrown our relationship at William. Did you
