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Her breath caught on a hitch. “Is that a promise?”
“Yes,” he said, lifting her into his arms and heading in the direction of the bedroom.Morning came all too soon. Kat had packed her bags and collected her papers and research. No matter how hard, she wanted to be there to say goodbye when Lann left. A part of her hoped he felt something for her, that he would change his mind and ask her for more.
But when facing him in the entrance at seven, she knew that wasn’t going to happen. He had a disturbed look about him. His eyes were cold, like when he shut himself off from the world, and his smile was automatic, like the first time they’d met in his office.
Her heart shriveled as a realization hit her. He’d already said his goodbye in the neglected churchyard garden. She ached at the thought when their lovemaking that morning had been so passionate. He’d taken her into his arms at four in the morning and loved her tenderly for a whole two hours. His touch had been gentle, and the words he’d whispered full of poetry. When he’d let her go, it was only because he would’ve otherwise been late for his flight.
Now he simply stood there staring at her with his hands in the pockets of his summer coat. Alfonso had informed him that his luggage had been taken to the car and that his driver was waiting. The moment had arrived, yet neither of them moved.
She felt it building, a breakdown that was inevitable, but she wasn’t going to cry now. For that luxury, she’d afford herself privacy. She wouldn’t show him how much it hurt. Knowing she couldn’t hold the tears off much longer, she forced her lips into a smile. A bit of the ice in his comportment cracked. He opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace, hugging him tightly. Still, he didn’t speak.
From somewhere by the door, Alfonso cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Sir. You’ll be late.”
Lann tensed. She could feel his hesitation as he pulled her even tighter against him, just for a second, before pushing her away.
“Bon voyage, Lann Dréan,” she said, proud of herself for her unfaltering voice.
“You can still use the library anytime. You don’t have to wait for Thursdays.” His voice lowered. “You’ll always be welcome.”
“Thank you.” If he didn’t go now, she was going to lose it in front of him and everyone.
He brushed a thumb over her knuckles. “My security has cleared the paparazzi. It’s safe to go outside, but wait for my driver. He’ll take you home.”
She shook her head. “I want to take the metro. I’d appreciate it if he could just drop my things off at home.”
Lann frowned, but he nodded.
“Here.” She held the box she clutched in her hand to him.
A question flashed in his eyes as he took it, and then his frown deepened as he looked down at the velvet box. Even if they both knew what it was, he opened it anyway. He stared at the bracelet and the ring for a moment before lifting his gaze to hers slowly. “I wanted you to have these.”
“I can’t take the bracelet, Lann. It belonged to your mother. As for the ring … I won’t need it any longer.”
“If you can’t keep the bracelet, at least keep the ring.” His tone was deep with meaning. “It’ll make me feel better.”
It wouldn’t make her feel better. She didn’t want anything that would remind her of him. It was easier like that.
“My other gifts, please tell me you’ve kept them,” he said.
She’d left the precious book he’d slipped into her dresser drawer with Martina in the library, and the hairclip was still in her room. It belonged there, with her heart.
“Take care,” she said.
She waited, but he didn’t say when he’d be back. He didn’t offer her his number in New York. He didn’t ask if he could call her.
Alfonso opened the door. “Sir.”
The single word was a silent instruction, strange coming from a butler but not when the butler was Alfonso.
Lann’s golden gaze travelled over her one last time, and then he turned and left.
He left.
She was left alone in the entrance, standing to the side and hugging herself. Through the open door, she saw Alfonso holding the back door of the Jaguar for Lann. Lann folded his tall frame double and slid inside. The windows were tinted, so she couldn’t see his face. She’d probably never see him again. Her breath got stuck in her throat. It ached and throbbed. God, nothing had ever hurt so much.
As the wheels started rolling, the car moving through the exit and down the road, loneliness grew around her, stretching. Suddenly, the monastery was quiet. There was no one at the reception desk since it was Sunday. It was silent, like the first time the door had closed on the students and Marianne Sullivan, trapping Kat inside. She’d never be able to come back here, would never be able to face the interior, the garden, and the library again.
