Midnight Betrayal (Midnight #3)(68)

Conor pulled her into a hug.

Woof.

Kirra was standing at the door.

Conor took a sip of water. “I’ll be right back.”

He pulled on clothes and grabbed the leash from the closet. He clipped on her leash and headed outside.

“That was bad timing,” he said to the dog. “She was talking to me. Really talking. I was getting somewhere. So let’s make this quick, OK?” He tugged Kirra toward the grass. “I have plans.”

The dog cooperated, and he was back in the apartment in ten minutes without incident. Maybe he’d overreacted. He opened the closet to hang up the leash. A blue Tiffany bag fell from the shelf and landed at his feet. A card and a small box labeled TIFFANY & CO. slid across the tile. He picked them up.

“Are you back?” Louisa stood at the end of the hall, her eyes riveted on the gift in his hand.

“I’m sorry. I knocked these out of the closet.” He held out the bag. “Do you want me to put it back?”

She backed up a step, the warmth in her eyes dimming. With trepidation, he opened the box. It was a pendant. A gold sailboat gleamed on a thin, elegant chain. He opened the envelope and read the note.

   Dear Louisa,

   A small token to show how much I miss you. I hope you’ll reconsider your recent move and come home. You are the only one for me. I need you. I’ve always needed you. Please forgive me.

   Yours always,

   Blaine

“Who’s Blaine?” Conor asked, but he knew. From the devastation on Louisa’s face, Blaine was guilty of something. Conor dropped the bag on the hall table and crossed the tiles to her. She hadn’t moved. He lifted his hands and gently took her by the shoulders. “Talk to me.”

She shook her head, her face paling, anger brightening her eyes.

“It can’t be that bad.” He pulled her stiff body to his chest and kissed the top of her head, but her body still felt wooden.

He lifted her to sit on a kitchen stool. “Please, talk to me. Who is Blaine?”

She looked away. “Blaine is my aunt’s godson, the child of her childhood friend who died young. After my mother died and Aunt Margaret came to live with us, Blaine visited her. He showed up at family parties. That sort of thing. He’s six years older than me.”

“Were you friends?”

A small shudder passed through her frame. “No. But I had a crush on him when I was a teen.”

Conor stroked her arm. She inhaled, and he knew the story was coming.

“On my sixteenth birthday, my aunt threw a huge party. Of course, Blaine was there. It was noisy and crowded with people I didn’t know. Most of the guests were Aunt Margaret’s friends. My father had missed his flight home from Munich, and I was heartbroken. He’d been touring Europe, lecturing, and I hadn’t seen him for several months. Blaine found me hiding in the library, crying. He grabbed a bottle of champagne and talked me into going down to the boathouse with him. My aunt was very strict, and I’d seen my father’s drinking problem up close. I’d never had more than a sip of alcohol before. But I was so angry and hurt, I thought maybe I’d just follow in his footsteps.” She paused, her eyelids falling to half-mast, disgust flattening her lips.

“It’s OK,” Conor encouraged. “You’ll feel better if you get it out.”

But she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “The next thing I knew, it was morning and we were both naked. I didn’t remember anything. I’d never had sex, but it was obvious that’s what had happened.”

Picturing a young and vulnerable Louisa, Conor clenched a fist and rapped it against his thigh. “What did Blaine say?”

“He was enthusiastic about doing it again.” Two bright spots of color rose into her cheeks.

“How old was Blaine at the time?”

“Twenty-two.”

Twenty-two-year-old boys generally knew how to drink. Conor had seen more than one guy try to get a girl wasted to get into her bed. “I assume he’d had alcohol before?”

“He was in a fraternity. Alcohol consumption seemed to be his major at the time.”

“Not you, though.” No, Louisa had good girl written all over her.

A sad smile twisted her lips. “I didn’t have much of a social life. Like Zoe, I was years younger than my classmates. At sixteen, I’d just received my bachelor’s degree, but I’d never been to a college party. Frankly, I was a pathetically obedient teen. The total trying-to-win-Daddy’s-approval-by-being-perfect cliché. If I disappointed my aunt in any way, the first thing she did was call my father to tell him.”

Conor’s heart pinged. Louisa identified with her lonely young intern. Both had been preyed upon, but Zoe had likely ended up dead.

“Honey, Blaine took advantage of you. You can’t beat yourself up for the rest of your life about it,” Conor said. “How much did you drink?”

“A glass? I don’t remember.”

Conor froze. “You drank one glass of champagne and blacked out?”

“Yes. That’s why I don’t drink. Obviously, I have an adverse reaction to alcohol.”

He straightened her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Louisa, no one passes out from one glass of champagne.”

“What are you saying?”