“I understand that, Gage,” she said sadly. “And what you want doesn’t mean a damned thing to him, either. Which makes you far more alike than you realize.”

That, at least, seemed to sink home. Some of the determined fire faded from his eyes.

“You really mean that?” he asked, his jaw jutting forward. “You can just walk away thinking I’m as unbending as my old man and I’ll only get tired of you anyway?”

It would be different if he loved her. But he’d never said anything to give her that impression, and she refused to put her heart on the line for him a second time. Whatever feelings she’d developed for him again would remain her secret.

Her private heartbreak.

Gage reached for her, but she backed up a step, afraid that the attraction would make her lose sight of reason. Again.

“Why would I believe otherwise?” She stepped into the office outside her bedroom, ready to change out of her party clothes and forget this night ever happened. “I’m going to pack now, Gage. I’ll get a flight back home as soon as I can.”

His nod was jerky. Abrupt. And it was the only hint that he might be hurting, too.

“I need to put in an appearance at the party,” he said finally. “If you leave before I return, would you consider taking a look at the room renovation before you go?”

She couldn’t imagine why he would ask her such a thing. Why he would care about her opinion?

“I’d prefer not to run the risk of stumbling into your father.” She had no desire to cross swords with Nigel Striker. Especially when Gage could obtain design advice from dozens of other people. “Good night, Gage.”

Closing the door between them, Elena told herself it would be the last time she’d ever have to face that level of pain. And she prayed that was true, because one drop more and she would be destroyed. This was almost too much to bear. She’d encouraged him to maintain his ties with his family, but in doing so, she’d cost herself the closest relationship she’d ever had with someone. Because no matter that she’d married Tomas at a sad point in her life, Gage Striker had always held her heart.

Thirteen

Where the hell are you?

Gage read one text while five more rolled in, his phone blowing up with notifications from his friends as the evening wore on. He’d changed into his tux for Miles’s party, but hadn’t called for his car in case there was a chance he could figure out a way to keep Elena from leaving.

Anger at his father still clouded his head. How could he show up here—tonight—and ruin any chance he might have had with Elena? Again.