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“Maybe I can help out a little,” he said, getting to his feet with some difficulty. He used a cane now, she saw, leaning his weight heavily on it. “He’s waiting. Do you want to see him?”
There was no need to ask who was waiting. Her heart leaped, and her pulse began racing. “Yes,” she said without hesitation.
He smiled. “I’m glad. I didn’t know if you understood how difficult things were for him.”
“I didn’t at first,” she said honestly. “I was so shocked to realize . . . but then I began to think.”
He laboriously made his way around the desk, and patted her shoulder. “Have a good life, Liliane.”
“I will, thank you . . . Mr. Rogers.”
Frank Vinay smiled, and left the office. Ten seconds later, the door opened again and Lucas Swain stood there, as good-looking as always, but now he wasn’t laughing. The expression in his blue eyes was almost . . . scared.
“Lily,” he began. “I—”
“I know,” she interrupted, and with a laugh launched herself at him. His reflexes were excellent; he opened his arms and caught her.
