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“I’m gonna have to skip lunch.” I tried to sound sincerely regretful. I rubbed my temples and blinked against the harsh florescent lights in the entryway to the radio station’s headquarters in downtown Manhattan. “I need to rest before the show.”
“Are you feeling sick again?” Kate turned me to face her, peering into my eyes. My heart hurt more than I’d ever thought possible, but that wasn’t what she meant, so I shook my head.
“I’m fine, or at least I will be by show time. I’m just tired. I need one of those pre-show naps you’re always telling me to take.”
“I am a fan of those.” She chuckled merrily, and I tried to match her smile as she pulled out her phone while motioning Duncan over. Now that was exactly what I’d been counting on. “I’m arranging for a car now. I’ll have Duncan take you back to your suite.”
As efficient as ever, she had us loaded into a luxury sedan and on our way in short order. Duncan didn’t talk to me in the car, busying himself with his phone, squinting and making thoughtful noises like he was working hard. Obviously, I wasn’t the only good actor in this thing.
But I simply bided my time, waiting until he was unlocking the door to my suite to groan low and stretch. And predictably, Duncan finally looked my way as he finished his security sweep.
“You okay? Kate said you’re not feeling well.”
“Just tired.” I met his level gaze, not letting him wiggle out of this conversation. “I haven’t been sleeping well. You?”
He made a pained noise, eyes squishing shut before he exhaled. “I’ve been sleeping worth shit.”
“Well, at least that makes two of us. Misery does love company.” I offered him the thinnest of smiles.
“Why are you miserable?” Frowning, he paced along the huge window in the living area of the high-rise hotel suite. As usual, Kate had found stellar accommodations, but I couldn’t spare the surroundings more than a passing glance. Duncan occupied all of my attention. “You’re a hero, and Kate says your sales are way up. Shouldn’t you be celebrating? Positive publicity and all that?”
“You think I care about sales?” I asked as his pacing brought him closer to me. Stopping on his heel, he gave me a searching look.
“No. But you do have your adoring public. That should make you happy.”
“But I don’t have you,” I said baldly. If I was going to crack through the ice separating us, honesty would be key.
“Oh.” Duncan slumped, and when I reached for him, he let me pull him close, my hands on his sides. A tremble raced through him. “You miss me?”
“Like I’d miss my favorite piano if Mom ever got rid of it.” And that might be underselling it. He’d been standing feet away much of the last two days, yet I missed him like oxygen.
I finally earned a small smile from him. “I might miss you as much as that pie in Chicago.”
“That was good pie,” I said solemnly as I stroked his stubbly jaw, other hand continuing to hold him close.
“Damn, I hate this.” Leaning into my touch, he brought his forehead to rest against my face. Now I was the one to shudder. I’d missed him so much. “You were right. It’s misery.”
“And I hate you mad at me.” More of that honesty I owed him. Maybe now he’d be ready to hear my apology. “I know I should have told you the press was onto the story, but I didn’t want to ruin our last few days together.”
“I know.” Groaning, he wrapped his arms around me. “And I was mainly mad at myself. For letting things get so out of hand.”
“You don’t get to beat yourself up for this,” I said sternly. “There are two of us. We both got in over our heads, but at the same time, I don’t regret a moment I’ve spent with you, Duncan.”
“Same.” His voice was gruff as he clung even tighter to me. “I should, but I don’t. I can’t.”
And then he turned his face so he could kiss me, a slow, tender exploration while his hands roved all over my back. Wordlessly, we kissed and kissed until, by some unspoken agreement, we stumbled toward the bedroom. In between kisses, I ran a finger along his shirt collar.
“Please.” Just that word from him, and I was as rock hard as I’d ever been. I unbuttoned his dress shirt gradually, stopping to drop kisses all along his neck as I freed each inch of warm skin. He did the same, pulling off my T-shirt with tender hands. Trading more kisses, we undressed each other slowly.
I wasn’t an idiot. I knew exactly what he was doing with each lingering kiss and reverent touch. He was saying goodbye. To him, this was the last time. And maybe he wasn’t wrong, but my brain kept stubbornly insisting there had to be a way this worked out.
