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He’d dream of her. He always had. He always would.
* * *
The sound of his footsteps faded as Rex snuggled into her lap. She’d thought Dane had been in the dark about her affair with Arlo until that big vase of flowers had appeared on her desk. She remembered asking, “Who are these from?” She’d brushed aside the leaves. “There’s no card.”
Dane had stood before her with not so much as a smirk on his face and said, “You must have a secret admirer.”
But she’d known it was him. He’d never taken credit for any of the nice things he’d done for her. For how he’d helped her uncle. Even in giving her the promotion when she asked for it, he’d blamed himself for not having promoted her long ago.
Maybe that day, as she’d cried her eyes out in the bathroom, she hadn’t been crying so much for Arlo and the way it ended, but for the way Dane had always seen inside her, even the things she hid from him. Maybe she’d been crying out of gratitude and longing and a sense of regret. What if, the moment she’d walked into his office the morning after the golf game and seen the man of her dreams, she’d told him right then she couldn’t work for him because she wanted to be in his life as far more than an assistant?
If she’d found the courage to ask for what she wanted all those years ago, what might have been?
Chapter Twenty-One
True to his word, Dane left her alone. After sipping the last of the champagne in her glass, Cammie picked up Rex. He hadn’t moved except to lift his head when Dane left the room.
She carried the dog up the wide manor staircase to the first landing, where a portrait of some naval hero took pride of place on the wall. There the stairs separated, going up each side. She took the right-hand stairway, heading to her room. She kept clothes and other necessities at the manor and hadn’t brought much with her. At the top, her door stood open.
She had a fleeting wish that Dane would be waiting inside.
But when she stepped across the threshold, the room was empty. After she set Rex on the bed, he curled into a ball, falling asleep right away. He would stay there all night as if guarding her, where he could jump up at a moment’s notice.
In the bathroom, she wiped away her makeup and the residue of the long day.
A voice inside told her the truth. Dane always comes to me when I really need him.
When Arlo betrayed her, Dane had recognized her distress and surprised her with flowers, then the cutest puppy in the world.
Now that she thought about it, he had the office space on the Peninsula because of her. He would have been more centrally located for business if he’d been in the city. But he’d chosen that location so she wouldn’t have a long commute and could drive home quickly if her uncle needed her. Right after she’d put her uncle in memory care and sold the house, Dane had given up that office. Then he’d offered her a place in each of his homes—always a massive suite that was as big as an apartment. He’d helped her pay for her uncle’s care.
He’d done so many kind and thoughtful things for her, many of which she hadn’t even recognized. When she’d called him with the news that her uncle was near the end, he’d rushed to her side without hesitation. He’d stayed with her, held her, comforted her.
She pulled her flannel pajamas from the bureau. Even though it was early May, English nights could be cool. She climbed into bed, then tugged the covers to her chin. Wrapping her arms around the stuffed dinosaur—of course she’d brought it with her—she hugged it as if it were Dane, while Rex curled into the crook at the backs of her knees.
So many times, Dane had gone above and beyond for her. He was her best friend, always there. At the barbecue, he’d noticed she was feeling bad and followed her into the house. He’d held her so tenderly, never asking a thing from her. Her grief at the time had been all about him, about realizing what she wanted from him, about knowing what she’d never have. But he’d thought she was grieving for her uncle, and he’d held her.
He said they could make a relationship work. But they had such a good working relationship now. She lay in bed, not thinking about that night or how beautifully he’d made love to her, but about the intervening years.
And she saw everything he hadn’t said. He hadn’t said he loved her, yet she could see now he’d actually told her in a zillion different ways. Even if he didn’t realize it himself. She couldn’t live without him. She needed his big, beautiful hugs and his steady reassurance that told her how special she was to him.
