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“Thank God my father was busy.”
She giggled. She couldn’t help it. It was, she thought, terrible that Brent and his father didn’t get along – but it certainly wasn’t Brent’s fault. His father was a jerk and a bully, and he didn’t really deserve a son as wonderful as Brent, nor yet a granddaughter as amazing as Cara. He was really quite lucky Brent let him be in their lives at all, considering his terrible attitude.
“He and Cara will have a nice evening together,” she said. And it was true. Cara had a way of melting even Donald’s ice-encrusted old heart. Around her, he was almost human.
Almost.
Brent grinned and pulled her nearer. “And you and I will have a nice evening together,” he said, brushing a kiss over her hair.
She leaned into him, breathing in his clove and cinnamon scent, enjoying the warmth and the strength of him. It was nice that they could find evenings like this to share together, every so often. Between Brent’s overfull work schedule, and the fact that they had to hide their relationship from virtually everyone in their lives, it didn’t happen often. But when it did, it made for a very special night.
She only wished she felt better. She’d been fine at SeaWorld, but for some reason, the motion of the limo had been making her feel nauseated, ever since they’d gotten into the car. The Rolls was as smooth and luxurious as ever… but today her stomach didn’t like it.
Must be that hot dog I ate for lunch, she thought. She let her head rest against his shoulder and breathed deeply, doing her best to settle her uneasy insides. And make sure they stayed inside, where they belonged.
Once they got to his penthouse, and out of the gently swaying vehicle, she felt better. It was, she thought, fortunate for them both that Brent had his own place, a home he could retreat to when being around his father became too much for him.
Or when he wanted to… “entertain”.
His penthouse was located in the tallest building of the Waterfront district, situated forty-two stories above San Diego, blessed with a spectacular view of the bay. She’d been here a few times now, and she’d never failed to admire the jaw-dropping views. The two of them rode up the private elevator, hand in hand, and then Brent poured them both a glass of Chardonnay, and they stepped out onto the balcony. The sun was sinking low in the sky, and the late afternoon sunlight gilded the bay with gold.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly.
He smiled down at her. “Everything’s beautiful when I’m with you, Jessica.”
Something in his eyes and his voice made her uncomfortable. They’d tried to keep things light over the course of their affair, but more and more often, she thought she heard a serious note in his voice when he spoke of being with her, and it made her nervous. It wasn’t that he was too old – he was, in her opinion, the sexiest man she’d ever known – but she was well aware that the world would probably think that.
And her father would, too. He might admire Brent, think of him as a good man, and consider him a close friend, but for his precious baby girl, he’d never consider a man his age to be an acceptable choice. He’d either murder Brent or have an aneurysm with rage and expire on the spot.
Not to mention Donald and Cara, both of whom would probably be greatly upset by their relationship, if for totally different reasons. She couldn’t ever bring herself to hurt Cara, who’d come to mean so much to her in so short a time. And as for Donald – well, she didn’t care what he thought, but she definitely worried about what an enraged Donald might do to Brent. She couldn’t bear the thought of Brent losing his inheritance, the house he’d grown up in, and all the opportunities wealth and status granted him, just because of her.
No, she thought, for perhaps the hundredth time. She couldn’t let this become serious. She just couldn’t.
Even so, she couldn’t pull away, either. His big hand wrapped around hers, and she tightened her fingers around his like she’d never let him go. The two of them stood there for a long while, watching the sun as it slowly sank toward the shining bay.
At last, the butler discreetly tapped on the glass door, notifying them that dinner was ready. Brent escorted her inside with great ceremony – pulling out a chair and seating her at the small table in the dining area, which overlooked the bay as well. The first course of their dinner was placed before them – miso soup, followed by salad and salmon with spring vegetables. By the time dessert was served – chocolate mousse in crystal glasses – she was starting to feel full.
And, to be perfectly honest, a little ill.
Definitely shouldn’t have had that hot dog, she thought and pushed the Baccarat glass away with regret.
