He grinned as he bent to give her a brief peck on the cheek. “I’ll look forward to it. What are your plans for the weekend?”

Her smile faded. “You won’t like them, I’m sure.”

Ian sighed. “Flying halfway across the country to spend a few hours with him, are you?”

Rebecca had the good graces to look penitent. “Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. “Though only as far as Arizona. Rand is speaking at a conference there, and staying overnight. And since he’s coming alone – well, it’s an opportunity to spend a night with him.”

He shook his head. “I won’t comment on something I don’t really understand, Rebecca. Especially since you’re a grown woman, even older than I am, and you don’t need advice from me on how to run your life. I’m guessing you receive plenty of that from your sisters and best friend.”

She gave a half-smile. “I think by now they’ve all given up on me, Ian. They know nothing and nobody is going to stop me from going to him whenever it’s possible. So, no. Nothing you do or don’t say is going to make a bit of difference. But thank you for caring.”

“I’m always available if you ever want to talk about it.”

Rebecca shook her dark head. “Talking doesn’t do a bit of good, believe me.” She paused with her hand on the door before gazing up at him quizzically. “I’m curious, though. If you were in my situation with – well, let’s just call her your mystery woman since you’ve never actually told me her name – what would you have done?”

Ian frowned. “Frankly, I would never have allowed a situation like this to develop in the first place. I would never have been willing to share her with another man, or to carry on a forbidden affair with her. I’m too selfish, for one thing, and too proud.”

She sighed. “And too moral as well. I’d better go up before you start becoming a good influence on me and I cancel my flight to Phoenix. I’ll be in touch, Ian.”

He watched as she entered the lobby and greeted the night doorman with a bright smile. The older, white-haired man seemed extremely fond of the pretty, personable Rebecca and made quite a show of escorting her towards the elevators. Assured that she was in good hands, Ian slid back inside the Town Car for the drive home.

Ironically, well before he had ever met Rebecca, he had briefly considered purchasing a condo in this very building. When he had first moved to San Francisco, the realtor he’d engaged had shown him a wide variety of properties, from condos and townhomes to single family houses of varying sizes. But the idea of living in what he deemed an oversized apartment hadn’t appealed to him in the least, perhaps because he’d spent so much time staying in company hotels over the years. The owners suites at each hotel were extremely large, often with two master suites, a living room, formal dining room, office, and full kitchen. The suite at the San Francisco hotel, for example, was more than twice the size of Rebecca’s condo. In London, he’d lived in a spacious, three story townhouse, but had wanted something quite different here in San Francisco.

The red brick, Georgian style mansion that was now his home had called to him from the moment he’d stepped inside. It was a huge place, much, much bigger than he needed, but none of that had mattered to Ian. The place had simply felt like home to him, reminiscent in some ways of his parents’ residence in Kent. And despite its size and grandeur, the house had felt warm and welcoming to him, with character and charm in every room.

He largely ignored how lonely the big house was, including this evening as he let himself in the front door. In his mind, he envisioned a residence filled with happy voices and laughter, imagined how the emptiness would quickly disappear with the presence of a wife and several young children running about the place. Despite his formal, rather austere mannerisms, Ian had always wanted a family of his own, at least a couple of children, and a partner he could share his life with. He thought about Rebecca’s comment earlier this evening – that it certainly wasn’t too late for him to still have that family he quietly longed for.

What Rebecca didn’t know was that unless that family was with Tessa, the hope of ever having it was as unrealistic as shooting the moon.

Chapter Seventeen

January

Tessa sighed as she gazed out the front doors of the office building, and resolutely belted her insubstantial raincoat a little tighter about her waist. It was raining a whole lot harder than it had been at lunch time, when she’d dashed out for a quick fifteen minute break. The wind was howling fiercely as well, which meant using her cheap umbrella would be pretty much useless. But there was really no hope for it, she told herself in resignation. The longer she continued to seek shelter here in the warm, well-lit lobby the higher the chance she’d miss the next bus and be forced to wait outside in the elements that much longer.

It had been a lousy day all around, she realized as she braced herself to face the pounding rain and blustery wind. A lousy month if she was being completely honest. She’d seen very little of Peter for the past few months, his assignments in the Far East seeming to take up more and more of his time these days. They had spent Thanksgiving together, having been invited to dinner at the home of one of his co-workers, and then Peter had flown out two days later for a nearly month-long trip to Japan and Taiwan.

She had skipped the office holiday party since he’d been away, and she hadn’t wanted to go alone. Tessa had never particularly enjoyed Christmas growing up, mostly because the holidays had always seemed to bring out the worst in Gillian. She knew that her mother’s own upbringing had been an especially unhappy one, and had always assumed that Gillian associated times like Thanksgiving and Christmas with some of her worst childhood memories.

But when she and Peter had married and eventually moved into their own place, Tessa had resolved to start over and do her very best to make Christmas a happy time for the two of them. She’d bought inexpensive decorations, baked cookies, played holiday music, and even hung stockings – though they had never lived anywhere with a fireplace or mantle. On Christmas Day she had cooked an extra special meal, and she and Peter had exchanged small gifts with each other. It hadn’t been anything like the merry festivities she’d seen in movies and on TV shows, but it was a start towards normalcy for both of them.

Except that this year Peter had been gone for almost the entire month of December, returning a scant three days before Christmas, and Tessa had done all of the decorating, baking, and shopping by herself. And Peter hadn’t been in much of a mood to appreciate any of it, given that he’d returned home with a bad case of bronchitis and spent most of the day in bed.