An Act of Persuasion

chapterR TWO



Twelve weeks ago

ANNA STOPPED WHEN she entered Ben’s office and saw that he was dozing behind his desk. His color wasn’t good and the lines around his mouth had grown deeper. She could only hope his decline wasn’t a result of what they did on the couch a few days ago. She hated to think that maybe she had robbed him of the last ounce of energy he had left in his body.

She shook off the ridiculous idea and thought about how incredibly odd these past few days had been between them. She was still caring for him, cooking for him, handling his business for him. And he was still letting her. All without saying a word about...that night.

At first she had this crazy idea that maybe they didn’t have to talk about it. Maybe things had changed, and they could accept that change without having to rehash the obvious. They were lovers now. End of story. Anna was sure Ben would appreciate the least messy approach to making that transition.

Except she didn’t feel like his lover. She felt like...a ghost. An apparition without any real substance walking around his home.

Unless they were arguing—something they rarely did, but they seemed to be on the verge of it now. Because she was certain that, beyond what had happened between them that night, something else had shifted. She sensed he was hiding something from her and as much as she pressed him on it, he wouldn’t budge. There were moments when she feared that the doctors had told him something about his condition. A prognosis so horrible he wouldn’t share it with her.

That, too, seemed ridiculous. If his condition was worsening, the medical team would be giving him more aggressive treatment. It wasn’t as though Ben would simply surrender. No, he’d fight his enemy—in this case his body—to the bitter end before ever conceding defeat.

Ben Tyler would live. It was the only outcome she could, or would, accept.

And since he was going to live, and since they hadn’t done a very good job of simply making the switch from coworkers to lovers, it meant they would have to talk.

Anna had promised herself that she would wait until he initiated the subject. Since he had made the first move, it was his responsibility to step up and explain himself. All she needed to spark that conversation was a reference, a vague mention of what they did on that couch not five feet away from her, and it would open the discussion.

She was about ready to break that promise.

Three days and nothing.

The entire incident could have been a dream she had, if she hadn’t woken the next day with a faint soreness between her legs letting her know that what had happened had been entirely real.

She allowed him every excuse in the book. He was sick and didn’t have the energy to focus on how their relationship might have changed. Until his prognosis improved, he couldn’t commit to anything in the future. Her personal favorite explanation for his avoidance was that he was shy about admitting how he felt about her because before that night he’d never given her any indication he was attracted to her.

No, any sexual or romantic thoughts, she had been sure—almost sure—were entirely one-sided. Her side.

Looking at him now, thin and exhausted, the portrait of a man who appeared to be wasting away, it was hard to imagine the man as he had been when she first fell in love with him.

Ben Tyler then equaled power. Ben Tyler now equaled frailty.

The crazy thing was she didn’t feel any differently about him. And he certainly hadn’t been frail when he thrust himself deep inside her. So why didn’t he want to talk about it? She understood most guys didn’t like to do postmortems the day after, but this was slightly different.

What happened had been incredibly unexpected.

They hadn’t flirted. They hadn’t teased each other with sexual innuendos. There hadn’t been any buildup of tension that had finally demanded release. She had loved him from afar, keeping her feelings completely to herself thinking he would find them inappropriate, and he...

He what? Had done the same? Had been feeling an attraction to her all this time? If so, the man was the best actor she’d ever known.

Or maybe it was the circumstance of his condition that finally brought home to him the realization that life was fleeting. A person needed to act on what he felt because he might not get a second chance. Maybe Ben had let his instincts take over his ruthless control.

Or maybe Ben had just wanted to get laid.

Either way, together they had made a big fat elephant and sat it in the middle of the room with them. It was getting to the point where not addressing that elephant was making it uncomfortable to be around each other.

The phone rang and it startled her out of her thoughts. It also woke Ben, which annoyed her. She’d told him on more than one occasion to turn the ringer off on his office phone while he was napping.

Except the great and almighty Ben Tyler didn’t acknowledge that he took naps. Rushing forward she attempted to snatch the phone off the hook, but he beat her to it.

“Ben Tyler,” he answered.

She noticed he didn’t look at her while he talked and it occurred to her that he hadn’t looked at her, really looked at her, in the past three days. Her strategy of not talking about that night hadn’t worked, and her strategy of letting him initiate the conversation was obviously not working, either. It was definitely time to forget about playing games. The elephant would not go away on its own.

“Yes. I understand. Yes, I’ll be there first thing tomorrow. Thank you.” He hung up the phone. “Yes?”

“Who was that?”

“The doctor’s office. Confirming an appointment. I need to be at the hospital by 7:00 a.m. Can you take me?”

“Of course,” she answered instantly. Then it occurred to her—something wasn’t adding up. The canceled appointment of a few days ago he wouldn’t discuss, the sudden hospital trip tomorrow. “Why do you need to be at the hospital tomorrow?”

“Anna, I’m sorry. I’m really tired. Can we talk about this later?”

It was her cue to leave. What person wouldn’t? The man was sick, he needed rest. Leaving now would give him what he needed.

Only leaving now would make her crazy. For the past few months—hell, since the day she started working for him six years ago—she’d put his needs first. It made sense, he was the boss. Only he wasn’t the boss anymore. Now, whether he was going to admit it or not, he was her lover. Kind of.

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows. Recognition of the fact that she’d never said no to him before.

“I want to know why I’m taking you to the hospital. In fact, I would like to know why you haven’t mentioned anything about what’s happening next regarding your treatment. It’s not like this is news you have to hide from me, Ben. I get it. The chemo isn’t working like you or the doctors hoped. Okay. We knew this might happen. There are other steps. Many other steps to go before this is over. I thought the plan was to go for the consultation regarding those next steps, but suddenly you’re expected at the hospital in the morning.”

“My doctor and I are making decisions regarding my future health that I would prefer to remain private between me and her. Is that really too much to ask?”

Anna could feel her anger bubble over. She’d been walking around his house like a shaken-up can of soda with the lid firmly in place for too long. She couldn’t contain it any longer.

“Yes. It is too much to ask when three days ago I was on my knees in front of you.”

He flinched, then paused as if collecting himself before he spoke. Or maybe he was trying to recall the speech he’d already had prepared.

“Anna, about that night...”

“I don’t want to talk about that night.” She could feel the panic creeping in and she had to force herself to calm down. “I want to know why I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Look, if it’s too much of an inconvenience—”

“Don’t play the guilt card with me. You know I would take you anywhere. Just tell me the truth. What. Is. Happening. Tomorrow.”

He brought his hands together on the desk and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve decided to move forward with the stem cell transplant.”

“You can’t. You don’t have a direct biological match and so far nothing has hit in the donor pool. You know this.”

“They’re going to use embryonic cells. The research—”

“Don’t talk to me about research. I know the research. What the hell do you think I’ve been doing these past months? Every medical journal, article, anything I could find regarding the cure for this disease I’ve studied. What you’re doing is taking a major risk when you don’t have to.”

“It’s my life. It’s my risk to take. I’m done playing with this disease.”

That was the thing about emotional pain. It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t stinging. It wasn’t even dull. It just moved all over the body like one big blow that you didn’t see coming until you felt it everywhere.

“So that’s it. You weren’t going to tell me.”

“I was going to tell you in the morning. Frankly, I didn’t want to have the argument we’re having now. I knew you wouldn’t be happy. But really this isn’t your concern.”

“What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean it’s none of my concern?”

His words actually made it worse. He knew what he was doing to her, but he chose to do it anyway. What he was doing...this treatment could kill him. Faster than the leukemia. She was standing in this room with this man who she’d worshiped for six years, and in months, possibly even weeks, he could leave her. Forever.

His life. His risk. What about her life?

“And you made this decision when?” Then she held up a finger to stop him. “Wait, let me guess. Three days ago.”

“Anna—”

“No, I don’t want to hear your excuse.”

“I’m not making any excuses. What I did was...unforgiveable. I let myself...lose control and for that I’m sorry. But what happened wasn’t completely one-sided.”

Of course it wasn’t. Yes, she had willingly participated. Hell, she’d practically jumped him when she realized what he was thinking. Six years she’d waited for Ben to make a move, give her some sign that what they had between them was more than business. When he’d looked at her that night and she’d seen the desire in his eyes it was as though her whole body imploded with one simple, single answer: yes.

Only what she thought was a realization of his feelings for her was simply an opportunity for one final bang. He’d used her, and she didn’t know if she could stomach that.

“I was nothing more than a convenience for you,” she muttered.

“No, that isn’t true. It wasn’t like I made this decision and then decided to...to—”

“Screw me?”

Again, he flinched, but she was tired of walking on eggshells around him, tired of taking all her cues from him about what they could and could not talk about.

They had sex. And within that act there had been intimacy. He couldn’t lie about that. He couldn’t say it was a mistake he made. What she’d seen in his eyes when he came into her...that was real.

“Look, Anna, I’m sorry for what I did. It just happened. But it doesn’t change anything between us.”

It just happened. The most significant moment of her life to date and he’d dismissed it as an impulse.

“I am sorry you’re upset. I’m sorry my actions have made you feel this way.”

Messy and emotional. Everything Ben Tyler rejected in his life, she knew. It pissed her off all over again, especially since she couldn’t control it. Blindly, she reached out to the shelves that covered most of the walls of his office. A snow globe she’d bought him on a vacation to Vegas was within range. He’d laughed when she had given it to him, telling her it was the tackiest thing he’d ever seen. But he kept it in his office, where he could see it every day.

She threw it as hard as she could and listened as it shattered against the bookshelves on the other side of the room.

“That was childish,” he said calmly.

Anna crossed her arms over her chest knowing she needed to get away. First, she needed to leave the room before the tears came. That would be step one. The second step would be infinitely harder. But as she looked at him, his face now expressionless, she knew she couldn’t stay with him. Not like this. It didn’t matter what happened anymore. It didn’t matter that she knew now how he truly felt.

The truth was the treatment he chose for himself might kill him. Was she supposed to stay and watch that?

Was she supposed to sit like a good girl while she was abandoned? Again.

No. She wouldn’t do it.

She needed to leave him before her heart bled out into her chest after being crushed so thoroughly. And she died alongside him. That’s the thought she had to cling to.

She wasn’t leaving Ben, she was saving herself.

“Fine,” she said, calling on every ounce of strength she had to do what needed to be done. “It just happened. You need to be dropped off at the hospital. I understand perfectly. I’ll make sure the glass gets cleaned up. Stay away from it in the meantime.”

“Anna—”

“No,” she said, holding her hand up. “I control what we get to talk about from now on and I don’t want to discuss this any longer.”

He didn’t like that, she could see it in his expression.

He sneered then, not content to let her have the last say on the matter. “I was only going to say...you throw like a girl.”

“Screw you,” she fired back. “Oh, wait. I already did.”