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As for Heath, seeing her up close like this, smelling her sweet perfume and gazing on her lovely face … he knew that he was going to react the exact same way he had in Chicago if she smiled at him.
She was as breathtaking as he remembered in her fitted skinny jeans and smart navy blue blazer. The thin sweater she wore underneath was the same color as the dress she had worn in Chicago.
Her fashionable stacked sandals gave her another inch, and he thought that she might just make it to his chin. His eyes took in every inch of her form, and he committed her image to memory in case she kicked him out of her life and he never saw her again.
His eyes locked on hers even as her hand came up to cover her open mouth. He heard her take a breath that seemed to originate from the very deepest part of her core.
The door stood open, and they could have reached out and touched one another, but it was as if there was an ocean between them. Neither of them said anything.
He had come all that way. He had searched for her for so long. Heath needed her to speak first.
Finally, it was as if she gave in to his silent demand. “Heath.”
His name on her lips was music to his ears. Her voice was a golden melody of a favorite song that had played in his head for the better part of a year.
“Sylvie. Sylvie Jones,” he said.
He had done nothing but say her name, and she flinched slightly.
She nodded. “How did you find me?”
“You didn’t make it easy.”
“No, I guess not.”
“We have some unfinished business, you and I.”
He let the words hang in the air between them. An odd sense of vulnerability swept through him. Had he completely misjudged what he thought had transpired between them?
He had chased this woman halfway across the country, a woman he had a one-night stand with a year ago. If he had told anyone who knew him what he was doing, they would probably have said he was certifiably insane.
Heath Collins was the one who was pursued, never the pursuer. But then again, Sylvie didn’t know who he was, did she? He’d never told her his last name, not that he recalled anyway.
“I just assumed you would never want to see me again considering our business transaction was over. Remember?” she asked, speaking smoother now. “It was just one night, and we talked about boundaries. You didn’t owe me anything else.”
It was impossible for him to tell if she regretted their night together or not. Sylvie appeared to have mastered the art of the poker face.
He had been clear in the hotel room the morning after, that he wanted to see her again. It didn’t make any sense why she was so against the idea until he learned that she had lied to him about who she was.
“The transaction we discussed was with the escort service. A service that, as it turns out, you weren’t an employee of after all,” he said.
Sylvie glanced down at her feet. “You made an assumption that night at the bar, and I didn’t correct you.”
“Why?” It was one of the many questions that had plagued Heath since he had found out that she had lied to him.
She kicked a toe at the floor. “I was having a crummy night on top of a rotten weekend, and I was in the middle of drowning my sorrows when you approached me. I didn’t see the harm in a little flirting. Then you said that you wanted to take me out for dinner and dancing, and I thought it would be fun, even if you thought I was someone else. I guess I just wanted an adventure, something good to remember from my trip.”
“And was it good?” He held his breath again as he waited for her answer.
A ghost of a smile crossed her face. “There were moments. I forgot how you were always begging for compliments.”
Was that flirting? He could work with that.
“How did you find me?” Sylvie asked again.
“I came across your picture on the Internet. You took second place in an online recipe contest.”
She groaned. “I swear to God, that recipe will be the … er … never mind.”
“You didn’t want to be found.”
“Honestly? I don’t know what I wanted, then or now. You’ve taken me by surprise.”
Heath searched for a way to put her at ease. “Cooking wasn’t on your list of hobbies when we played the game.”
Sylvie nodded and smiled. And with that smile, Heath knew he was lost.
There it was, the same intense attraction he’d experienced when he first set eyes on her. He decided he would gladly give up every dime of his fortune if she’d smile at him like that every day for the rest of … he pulled up short, realizing he was getting carried away.
“I believe I said something about eating being a hobby of mine, though. A man’s gotta eat.” Heath said patting his stomach.
Sylvie cut a glance behind her at the stroller before looking back at him. He sensed that the ground he’d just won in this invisible battle was about to be lost.
“I’ve come all this way. Can I come in?”
He had done his research on Sylvie before visiting Zeke’s Bend. He knew that she owned the building. Her shop was in the front, and her apartment was in the back.
Getting her to talk to him seemed like the best place to start. He wanted to know her side of what had happened in Chicago.
He also wanted to know exactly what the situation was with the three-month-old babies that were currently sleeping soundly behind her.
Sylvie caught the direction of his glance and moved to block his view of the stroller. It was almost as if she thought he was going to do something to them, which was absurd. Did she really think that she had to protect them from him?
He had so many questions. She just needed to let him in.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Heath. I don’t even know you. Not really.”
“You know me well. I might even say, intimately.” It might have been a bit unfair to remind her that they had slept together, but they had seen each other naked for Christ’s sake. She definitely knew him, and she knew him in ways no other woman ever had.
Sylvie took a step backward. Away from him. He was losing her.
He stuck out his hand. “I’m Heath. Heath Cartwright. There. Now we know each other.”
He didn’t give her his real name, and he didn’t lie without good reason. He’d given it much thought since he’d found his mystery woman, and had decided to go with a fake last name.
Women were always chasing him because of his money. He didn’t think that Sylvie was a gold digger type, but until he got to the bottom of what had happened in Chicago and what the story was with the babies, he needed to be cautious.
Sylvie stared at his offered hand as if she didn’t know what to do with the gesture. After a moment, she carefully put her hand into his, and the electric tingle he remembered rushed through him. By the way her eyes widened, he knew that she felt it, too.
The attraction between them was still there, and it hadn’t lessened. Not one bit.
“Well, Mr. Cartwright, it’s nice to officially meet you, and I appreciate you stopping by,” she said, sounding brisk and business-like. “But I’ve worked all day and it’s late. I have things that I need to attend to. I’m sure you understand.”
He couldn’t bear the idea of losing her again, but, at least, this time, he knew where to find her. He had to find some way to get her to talk to him. Showing up on her doorstep unexpectedly might not have been the best move. He needed to give her a bit of time to adjust.
“I’m in town for a few days,” he said. “I was driving through on my way to a meeting in the area and thought I’d stop by since Zeke’s Bend was on my way. How about coffee or lunch tomorrow? I’d love to have a chance to reconnect.”
After seeing her again, that “reconnect” innuendo was the understatement of the year.
“Why?” Sylvie’s eyes widened again, and she looked so confused. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her silly.
He wanted to tell her that he had nev
