“I’m sorry. I’m sure you wouldn’t. I just had to be clear. It’s a very closely guarded secret. If it became public knowledge before I’m a hundred percent back to normal, the Caine Tech shareholders could panic. We’re in the middle of some very intricate negotiations to purchase two other companies right now and I don’t want to unnecessarily complicate matters.”
Again, that compassion squeezed her chest. The poor man. She couldn’t imagine the sort of pressure on him, where he had to be so guarded about his personal life.
On the other hand, she was keeping secrets from him about her own history and about Trent’s death, so perhaps she wasn’t in a position to judge.
“I won’t say a word,” she promised.
He sipped at his water and gazed at the flickering fire. The gas fireplaces were far more convenient than those that burned wood for fuel and were cozy enough to warm a room, but something was definitely lost without the crackle and hiss and the aroma of burning fruitwood.
“I also must insist you not mention anything about my brain tumor to my family members while they’re here.”
It was a good thing she was firmly sitting down or she would have stumbled, with her typical style and grace. “What? You mean your family doesn’t even know?”
He gave a shrug that wasn’t really an answer at all.
She stared at him, appalled. “Let me get this straight. You seriously had major surgery—someone drilled a hole in your skull and stuck a knife into your brain, for heaven’s sake—and you didn’t bother to mention this little fact to your family?”
“Technically, they removed a piece of skull and used a laser, then put the skull back. But yeah. My family doesn’t know.”
“I don’t understand. I had the impression from the way you spoke of them that you’re all quite close.”
“We are.”
“And you didn’t think they might want to know that you had a brain tumor removed?”
She couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around it—and her brain was completely intact, thank you very much. From all he had told her, his family was filled with wonderful people who gathered around each other in times of need. He had talked about his brother the wounded soldier and his other brother who had lost his wife with deep love and compassion—and yet when he needed that same hand of support, he had shut them all out.
“What good would it have done to worry everyone? Doctors first found the tumor the week before my pop’s wedding. They weren’t sure then whether it was benign or malignant. I couldn’t ruin things for him with that kind of news. And then we decided to go for the surgery while Pop was on his honeymoon. Again, I certainly wasn’t going to call him on his cruise and tell him to rush back to sit at my bedside when it was completely unnecessary.”
“Okay, I suppose I can give you that one. But what about the rest of them? Good grief, you have enough siblings for a basketball team with a couple of alternates! You don’t think a single one of them would have come to help you out?”
He winced a little at her raised voice—apparently his headache wasn’t completely gone. She was sorry for that but not sorry for her sentiment.
“It was my call and I made it. My family can be overwhelming and I didn’t want everyone fussing around me. A few trusted members of my household and corporate staff knew and that was plenty.”
She frowned, sensing something else at play here. He had purposely isolated himself from his family. Why? He obviously loved them. She would have thought he would automatically turn to them during what could have been a life-threatening health condition.
None of it was her business, she reminded herself.
“You can disagree with my decision,” he went on, his voice stiff. “But if you are unable or unwilling to promise you can keep this information to yourself while my family is here, I am very much afraid I can’t honor our employment agreement.”
She gaped at him. “Let me get this straight. You’re basically threatening to fire me before the paperwork even goes through if I so much as think about telling your family about the major brain surgery you neglected to mention to them.”
“That’s about the size of it, yeah.”
Oh, good grief. She threw up her hands. “Fine. Mum’s the word, then. I already told you I wouldn’t tell anyone. If that includes your family, so be it. Am I allowed to tell you I think you’re completely wrong? You obviously care a great deal about your family or you wouldn’t be going to so much trouble to have them all here for Christmas. I fail to see the point of even pretending to have a loving relationship if you shut them out when you need them most.”
“Duly noted. Now can we talk about something else?”
She should make some excuse and go back to bed but their disagreement seemed to have had an energizing effect. She didn’t feel tired at all, though she would undoubtedly pay the price in the morning.
“Sure. How is your headache now?”
“Better. Thanks. In case you wondered, coddling me isn’t in your job description.”
She was quite certain nagging him about his family wasn’t in there, either. “Consider it a bonus. I like to give my employers extra bang for their buck,” she said.
“Do you?” he murmured.
She could detect absolutely no innuendo in his voice but for some ridiculous reason, she could feel her face heat, anyway. She was suddenly aware again of the intimacy of the situation, the two of them virtually alone except for her sleeping child, in a darkened house, in front of a cozy fireplace.
“And you can see how well that’s been working out for me.” She tried for glibness.
“Temporary setback. You’ll get back on track.”
His confidence in her warmed her more than the gas fireplace.
The lines of strain seemed to have eased around his mouth, she saw with relief. Now he just looked lean and dark and compelling, especially with his hair a little messy and evening facial hair shadowing his features. Maybe it was the surroundings or the memory of him out with his horses but he didn’t look like the perfectly groomed executive right now, more like a sexy, slightly disreputable outlaw.
“Tell me how you became a hotel manager.”
“Assistant manager,” she corrected. “I was working my way up to manager, remember? Unfortunately, my one big shot at glory is now a pile of ash and rubble down by the lake.”
He smiled a little, as she intended. “Assistant manager, then. Why hotel management in the first place?”
She settled deeper in the comfortable chair, her mind retracing the steps that had led her to this moment. “I told you my mother died when I was in high school, right?”
He nodded. “How did it happen?”
“She worked the front desk at a small seaside motel owned by her good friend, just for a little spending money. It was only about a mile from our house and in good weather she liked to ride her bicycle to work. One night she never came home. My dad went out looking for her and finally found her mangled bike and my mom about thirty feet away. Hit-and-run driver. The police never found him. They said she died instantly.”
He flexed a hand as if he wanted to reach for her. “I’m so sorry.”
The pain of that original loss had never quite left her. Her life up to that point had focused on clothes and makeup and boys and studying hard enough to earn a scholarship, since her dad repeatedly lectured her they couldn’t afford tuition otherwise.
Her mom had been a constant source of encouragement, her biggest cheerleader. She had been funny and warm, someone everyone in