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Except there’d been such blatant honesty in her indignant expression, and in his gut, he knew that she wouldn’t lie about something so fundamental. What could be gained from it?
He watched her disappear around the corner and then began to follow, at a walk. He watched, from a distance, to make sure she was home safely, and then he went to his car. And waited. He thought, too, about what to do, what he wanted, and how to achieve it. And he didn’t notice, until the middle of the night, that not a single light had been turned on when she’d got home. It brought the hint of a frown to his features, but it was just another question he’d get answers to eventually.
If he hadn’t arrived at Larry’s, would something have happened with that guy? Despite her protestations, might she have gone home with him?
The twisting in his gut filled him with one undeniable certainty. She was his, and he would not share her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I presume you still like coffee?”
Sarah stared at Syed with a look of complete confusion. “I didn’t dream it? You really came to the bar last night?”
“You didn’t dream it.” He held a takeaway cup out to her, and she eyed it dubiously, then shifted her attention to his face. Syed Al’Eba, who looked impossibly gorgeous, even with his clothes rumpled and a dark five o’clock shadow across his chiselled jaw.
“What are you doing here?”
His expression was pure business. “We need to talk.”
Sarah shook her head slowly from side to side. “Five years ago we needed to talk. Now, you need to accept this this is over and leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that.” He pushed the coffee closer and its tantalising aroma drifted towards her.
“I thought you wanted to get me out of your system or whatever.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. What I want is you. All of you.”
She froze, staring at him long and hard. “What?”
“Marry me.”
The words were like daggers slowly spearing towards her at velocity; she couldn’t dodge them. They dug into her, sharp and biting. She looked at him as though he’d lost all of his senses. “Huh?”
Taking advantage of her obvious shock, he stepped around her and strode into her house. “Marry me,” he repeated, handing the coffee to her once more.
She took it on autopilot.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I understood. Did you say…”
“I want you to marry me.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Marry you?”
“Yes. Today. Marry me.”
“Oh. My. God. You are actually crazy,” she ground out, her eyes flicking to his with disbelief. “I haven’t seen you in five years! I have a daughter. You hurt me! Don’t you get it? Not just five years ago, but the other night. You … I wouldn’t marry you for … for anything.”
“Even for a million dollars?”
She froze, spinning around to face him, her expression like thunder. The sheer idea of that kind of money was impossible to comprehend, but marriage to Syed? No. She couldn’t do it. “How dare you?”
He held a hand up to silence her. “For your daughter,” he said so softly that she had to move closer to hear. “A million dollars in a trust fund for her future.”
She stared at him, pain lashing her. “And in exchange I marry you?”
“It is not payment,” he ground out. “I want to help her. I want to help you. And I want to marry you.”
Sarah’s legs felt like jelly. Lexi’s face puffed into her mind and she groaned inwardly. But her rejection was vehement. “No.”
