Page 49 of Vincent
"Where's he?"
"On his way to his club." Reaching for a napkin, Jacklyn wiped the powdered sugar off her fingers. "What a bloody mess."
"You're telling me." Althea had spent last night tossing and turning on the bed and at one point, she had contemplated just marching herself over to his place and demanding aconfrontation. But she had to give him time. She had dumped something huge on him, and he needed time to process. "I have to give him time and hope it's not too late."
*****
The Elite Club rested comfortably on top of a slight incline, sparkling and white like a bride decked out in all her fineries. The huge sprawling building was surrounded by lush green lawns with trees waving in the stiff fall breeze. Flowers bloomed in profusion and the pools glistened in the afternoon sun. Despite the coldness of the weather, there were members and their guests whacking at balls or braving the elements by taking advantage of the pools.
The outdoor bars, which had been added recently, were doing thriving business. Vincent had blocked out his misery effectively by concentrating on contracts he had taken with him on the trip. Instead of driving himself, he had opted to use one of the drivers.
He was here and he was going to throw himself into the various activities the place had to offer. There was going to be a masked ball, and he knew that several members had flown in for the specific purpose of spending the holiday weekend.
He was shown to his suite of rooms where a refreshment of cheese, crackers and fruits rested on the table next to thewindow. A window that opened onto a balcony with the view of the basketball court and the lush green vegetation. There were bike and hiking trails to the left and a sauna that showed signs of activity.
He would take a moment to himself and then go down to play a game of poker or have lunch. His stomach was reminding him that apart from two cups of coffee, he had not had anything else. He wasn't hungry. In fact, he was so angry, he could barely stand it.
Stepping out onto the balcony, he ignored the wind whipping his coat around him and just stood there staring at the spectacular scene blindly. He missed her, he thought achingly. It was like he had lost a limb, a major artery. But he would get over her, he would do his best to tear her from his heart. He stopped and staggered back.
"Oh Christ!" he groaned. Heart? Where the hell did that come from? Refusing to explore that devastating piece of information, he went back in and closed the sliding doors.
*****
"You're not eating," her brother pointed out. "I went to the trouble of ordering this excellent Thanksgiving package fromone of the finest restaurants in town and you're wasting the food."
"That's an insult to my cooking skills. I could have made the meal."
"I happen to be a loving brother who wanted to give his very hardworking sister a break." He hadn't said anything when she called to ask if the invitation to Thanksgiving dinner was still open. And from the look on her lovely face, he knew it was bad. Just as he had predicted, the bastard had hurt her.
"Thanks." She gave him a wan smile.
"How about another glass of wine?" he suggested and she shook her head.
"One is my limit."
"You happen to love wine and it's your favorite Cabernet. Unless-" He went still as he stared at her. "Oh Christ! Please tell me what I'm thinking is not true. That I'm mistaken."
"I don't know what you're thinking." She fussed with the fancy napkins he had put out for supper, rearranging them in precise points.
"I'm thinking that you were foolish enough to get pregnant for a man who now wants nothing to do with you. Tell me I'm wrong."
She did not meet his gaze but continued to play with the napkins. "Then I would be lying."
Andrew let out a harsh sigh. "Does he know?"
She shook her head. "He doesn't want another child."
"He told you that."
"More or less. I can bring up this baby by myself."
"Think, Thea." His hands snaked out to capture hers and halted her movements. "Vincent McDermot is a major player. He's a freaking multi-billionaire. How do you expect to hide this from him?"
"What do you expect me to do?" she cried. "He's hurting and he does not want to go through another agonizing pregnancy. The last one he went through, he lost the woman he loved."
"Then he should have bloody well thought of that while he was screwing you. A man like that knows how important it is to use protection. And you! What the hell were you thinking?"
"I wasn't," she admitted softly.
