Chapter Five

Tsunami

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“H EY.” HE ROSE FROM his place and closed the distance between them. His hand slid to her shoulder as she buried her face in her hands, mortified at her behavior.

Kyle was the first interesting guy she’d met since Graham, yet she’d allowed herself to have a meltdown in front of him. What was she thinking?

Shame mushroomed in her chest as she accepted the full weight of her predicament. That night had been her one shot at a moment of happiness—a beacon of light in her world of shadow—and she’d managed to blow it.

“Let’s go somewhere a little quieter.” Kyle tugged her from her chair and guided her away from the table.

She grasped for her small purse and clung to him, hiding her face in the sleeve of his jacket. The scent of his cologne engulfed her, temporarily helping her to forget her misery. Caught between her disgraced embarrassment at her outlandish performance and her genuine panic for what would come next, though, the reprieve didn’t last long. Her landlord had already told her he’d given up on her. From tomorrow, she had nowhere to live.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He steered her away from the throng, his arm sliding to her middle.

Amy noticed the noise of other patrons diminishing as the journey continued.

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

Talking was the farthest thing from her mind as he steered her on, but she was grateful to be away from the prying eyes of other guests. Who knew what they must be thinking of her. What kind of woman burst into tears over pre-dinner drinks?

“Here.” He pushed open a large oak door to reveal a spacious room beyond it. Glancing up from the damp patch she’d made on his sleeve, she realized they’d traveled down a candle-lit corridor to the new location.

“I’m sorry.” The words rushed from her mouth. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She despised her duplicity the moment it left her lips, knowing she was better than the lie suggested.

“Sit down.” His voice was soothing as he led her into the new room and encouraged her toward a leather couch.

Her gaze fixed on the burgundy hue of the seat, the weight of her mortification ensuring she never met his eyes.

Pressing her ankles together, she wrapped her arms around herself as he strode away. With his back turned, she risked a peek around the room, taking in crimson carpets and oversized oak bookcases laden with what looked like old, leather-bound reads. Kyle paused at the enormous mahogany table in the center of the space, the sound of water drawing her attention there.

“You need a drink.” He spun, holding the glass of water out for her, and fleetingly, her focus flew to the half-filled jug and glasses left there. “I’d offer you something stronger, but I don’t think that will help.”

He towered beside her as she took the glass and tentatively took a sip. The water was cold and refreshing, helping to clear the cloudy outlook that even the small amount of champagne had provoked.

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded tiny as he took his place on the sofa beside her. “I’m sorry I’ve embarrassed you.”

Why else would he have taken her away from the main restaurant? He’d probably never met such a neurotic woman. Hell, one inference that she might need to be taken care of and the levy had broken inside her. Her head fell at the explanation, her cheeks burning as she tried to ignore the weight of his stare.

“You didn’t embarrass me.” His voice was unnervingly calm. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” It was the thinnest lie yet.

“Please, don’t do that.” He sighed, the noise tugging at her heartstrings.

After everything he’d done to make her happy—helping at the grocery store, buying the bread, and offering to bring her there to the restaurant—she’d managed to disappoint him. The thought sliced at her trepidation, reinforcing what she already knew—however hard she tried, she always let people down.

“Do what?” She swallowed, lifting her head as she sipped the water. Still, she refused to meet his eyes, but she wanted to make amends. She didn’t want the entire night to be a washout of her own devices.

“Lie to me.” One of his expensive shoes tapped against the thick pile carpet. “You did so before when you told me you didn’t know what was wrong, and you’re doing it again.”

“Oh.” She gripped the glass tumbler. How could he have known that was a lie?

“Tell me the truth, Amy.” His voice was soft yet insistent. “I know we don’t know one another, but it’s obvious something’s wrong, so tell me... what’s upsetting you?”

Her sense of shame was crippling. How could she tell a man with such vast wealth that she didn’t even have enough money to make the minimum repayments on her array of loans and bills that month? It was none of his business, but she realized bursting into tears in advance of appetizers warranted some kind of explanation.

“You wouldn’t understand.” She stared at the water in her glass, hardly recognizing her hoarse voice.

“Wouldn’t I?” He straightened beside her. “What makes you think that?”

Pressing her wet lashes together, she pulled in a breath. “Because it’s about money.” And you have a ton of it.

“Money.” His voice was even, giving nothing away. “Didn’t Graham leave you with any savings?”

Savings? She might have laughed at his naivety had her humiliation not halted the gesture.

“No,” she croaked. “No savings. No pension. Nothing.”

He inhaled, the tiny noise deafening in the silence of the gigantic room, and she instantly regretted the admission.

“But that’s my problem.” She wiped her eyes, thankful she didn’t have enough money for make-up. “I shouldn’t have allowed it to ruin dinner. I’m sorry.” She hoped to anything holy, that he was still willing to feed her. Amy was starving, and there was nothing left in her cupboards.

“Do you have enough for your rent?” His hand fell by his side and grazed the edge of her thigh. She watched the caress for a moment, numbed by his question.

The truth was she didn’t have enough for a burger, let alone the rent, but she didn’t know if she could really spill her heart to a man who demanded she address him by his formal title. She’d barely expressed her desperation to the few friends she had left, skimming over the details when she’d pleaded for a place to crash, let alone open up to a man she didn’t even know.

“No.” She forced the word out, watching his hand at her leg. In that instant, she acknowledged there was power in her confession, as though keeping the guilt and disgrace all bottled up for so long had only compounded the problem. As her answer echoed around them, she was suddenly fueled by the need to tell him everything. “Not the rent, nor Graham’s funeral plan, nor my son’s school fees... nothing !”

She spat out the final word, fresh emotion gathering in her throat and engulfing her as she folded over the glass. Thick, ugly tears followed, the sort that assured her no one who witnessed them would ever want to see her again.

He waited for the initial wave to crash over her, remaining silent. By the time she looked up for air, he foisted a clean handkerchief in her direction.

“Thank you.” She dabbed her eyes, imagining how red and puffy they would be.

Any chance of ever getting to know Mr. Kyle better had officially gone out of the window, though, naturally, the aroma of the fabric only reminded her of what she was missing—a sophisticated man of means who could have been a good companion, let alone a lover.

She’d have liked that. She wagered he had one hell of a body hiding beneath his suit, and that was the type of distraction she craved.

“Amy.” His hand shifted to squeeze her knee. “Finish your water.”

My water? Her gaze slid toward him, though still she refused to permit him to see her in such a state of disarray. Why was he worrying about that?

“You’ll end up with a headache,” he urged.

“That’s not really my most pressing problem, Mr. Kyle.” She’d intended her sardonic tone to be light-hearted, but apparently, aiming for humor was a stretch too far in her current predicament.

“Please.” The hand on her knee rose to guide the water to her mouth. “I meant what I said about taking care of you.”

Dumbly, she complied, not resisting as he tipped the remaining contents of the glass past her lips.

“Thank you.” He took the glass from her shaky hand, placing it down by his feet. “Now, about the money. Tell me how much you need.”

How much she needed?

Her brow furrowed, and for the first time since she’d dissolved on the restaurant floor, she forgot how she must have looked and turned to face him.

“Why?”

“Because I want to help you.” His smile was sympathetic enough, but there was something about the glint in his deep blue eyes that elevated her pulse even faster.

“Why would you do that?” It was the second time she’d asked the question that night, but still she wasn’t clear on the answer. Was Kyle really just a ‘good guy’ trying to do the right thing, or was there an ulterior motive she was yet to uncover? “I’m not a charity, Mr. Kyle and despite my financial situation, I’ve always worked hard for what I’ve had.”

“I in no way intended to imply you were a charity.” That same hand neared to stroke her hair from her face.

The gesture should have been aggravating—an encroachment of her personal space—but for some reason, she allowed it, watching its approach and oddly grateful for the outcome. Hot and flushed, her face was no doubt hideous enough without having half of her hair stuck to it.

“I’m not talking about giving you money, Amy.”

“Oh.” What was that? A pang of disappointment in her voice? She bit down on the noise. The last thing she should be was disappointed. Hadn’t she just been offended by even the idea of him gifting her the money? “Then, why ask? Why say you could help?”

“Because I can help.” He made everything sound so simple, as if the world was full of rich philanthropists just running around bailing out average people. “I want to make you an offer, Amy.”

“What kind of offer?” She stared into those deep pools of his eyes, wondering what on Earth a woman like her could offer a man like William Kyle. As though hypnotized by his gaze, she waited, leaning closer when he finally relented with an answer.

“I have a position which I think will suit you perfectly.”