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Alex was tapping the screen of his fitness watch. ‘No, I’ve just finished up.’
Emma stepped over the threshold of the room, walking towards him. Her delicate finger traced a line along his glistening pectoral. A gentle touch. He closed his eyes.
‘Emma, we have to talk,’ he said softly.
‘I know what you’re going to say, Alexander.’
The past two weeks didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t. They had simply had a good time. Emma wouldn’t let herself believe anything other than that.
She looked around at all the workout equipment. This room was better equipped than some professional gyms. ‘Why do you work yourself so hard?’
‘For control. I need it in every aspect of my life,’ he said, watching her. Her hands were still on him.
‘Is it because you want to control who enters and leaves your life? How you feel about it? How you respond to it?’
‘Emma...’
He had never said her name like that. She knew it was a warning to drop the subject. He wasn’t going to discuss his mother with her.
‘It might not be so bad to let someone into your heart,’ she said, holding his gaze. It was careful. Guarded. No emotion to be seen. No weakness for her to read.
‘I don’t have one,’ he said flatly.
It was a statement. And suddenly there was a buzzing in her ears from the rage she felt for a woman she had never met. Emma didn’t push. She didn’t have a right to. But she hated that shut-off expression on his face.
Her hands travelled around his neck and into his hair, tugging his face down to hers. The moment their lips connected she felt the steel-like stiffness leave his body as his tongue plundered her mouth, making her moan. And then he took her up against the mirror.
Alex couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed himself so much. Having Emma around just felt right. He’d wanted to see how she would fit into his life, and so far he was running out of reasons to push her away. Not that he wanted to. But hehadto.
Confusion wasn’t a feeling he often felt, and it was not one he was enjoying. He couldn’t forget the conversation he had with Matt, and was scared that all the time they were spending together would start meaning something more to Emma. That the fact he craved her touch meant something more.
He sat in his office, tossing a little ball in the air as he pondered through all the thoughts in his head. Sorting through work and home and Emma.
He had a ball like it in all his workspaces, but it was placed back on the desk as he figured out the solution to a work problem. Just as his fingers reached the keys of his laptop, his phone rang.
‘Alexander Hastings,’ he answered.
‘Good evening, Mr Hastings. This is Dr Bernard from the Fairmont Hospital.’
Alex’s blood ran cold. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Your father has had a heart attack.’
Alex was already on his feet, storming out through the door.
‘He is stable, but he will have to remain in our care for a few days.’
He bashed the elevator button. It was taking too long to come up. Just as he moved towards the stairs, the ding informed him that the car had arrived. He rushed in, hitting the button for the car park.
‘Okay, thank you. Keep me informed of everything. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Probably very early in the morning.’
Alex barely heard what was said after that. He shoved his phone in his pocket and threw open the car door. He hurriedly climbed in and shut it, much harder than he meant to. Much harder than he should. He ran his fingers through his hair and punched the steering wheel. He felt as if his lungs were being squeezed as he fought to keep the dread at bay.
With squealing tyres, his car left the space.
Barely an hour had passed since Alex had received the call from the doctor, but he was already at Essendon Airport, climbing aboard the Hastings International private jet with single-minded determination. He had to leave. Right now. And he kept up a mantra in his head of what he had to do. Alex could think of nothing else.
Operating on autopilot, Alex was silent. He said nothing to the pilot, or even to his cabin crew when they came through offering refreshments. Fear had a stranglehold on him. It was a vice around his lungs, squeezing the air out.
