He dismissed her with a look, his lips pressed together in a straight line. “I told you, I don’t need your sympathy, so take your declarations of love and get out. I’ve got work to do.” He stepped away from her and sat down in his chair, shutting her out.

She should have expected his reaction, especially given his mood. Nevertheless, she felt bruised, wounded. Dazed, she moved from the desk and, with heavy feet, walked out of the room.

She stood at the end of the hallway, her fingers rubbing her still-tender lips, unsure what to do next. Should she pack up and leave? Everything in her wanted to stay, despite Trevor’s harsh treatment of her just now. She knew he was hurting—probably even more than she was—knew it in her gut. Everyone in his life had left him. Was she going to do the same? That’s why he pushed people away, so they would leave on his terms and not blindside him, like his parents had done time and time again.

She left the office and went to Mags’s room, where she found her fluttering like a moth around a light, darting between the closet and the bed with armfuls of clothes. “Oh, Allie dear, I’ve shopped so much, I think I need a new suitcase.”

Allie turned to Frances. The normally cheerful, talkative maid was quiet and her forehead wrinkled into a V shape. “Good morning.”

“Frances, do you think I could have a word with Mags?”

“Yes, of course.” She laid a dress on the bed and squeezed Allie’s shoulder as she walked by.

Allie waited until the other woman left then she watched Mags, who was still in perpetual motion. “Mags, where’s Nigel?”

Mags held up two dresses, one blue, one green. “Gone, dear. Which do you think I should wear on the plane?”

“Neither.”

“Well, I can’t very well go naked, now can I? Although, with those perverts at security, I might as well be.”

“Where did he go?”

She dropped both dresses on the bed and flitted to the dresser. “I need to send my jewels back by courier. I don’t like to travel with them. Go call Frances, dear.”

“No.”

Mags did glance up at her then. “Sorry?”

Allie shoved all the dresses to one side and sat down on the blue silk bedcover, curling one leg under her. “So that’s it? You’re just going to leave him again?”

“Well…” Mags swallowed, her eyes shifting to the floor. “Nigel and I are over, Allie. I’m sure Trevor wants me out of his hair.”

“So all that talk about staying in Vegas to make amends, all that was just bullshit?”

Mags tilted her head and gave Allie a disapproving glance.

“You’re leaving him again.”

With a sigh, Mags gathered up the dresses and moved them to a chair. Half of them slid to the floor, but she didn’t bend to pick them up. She sank down on the bed next to Allie. “He doesn’t want me here, darling. He told me so this morning.”

“He’s been telling you to leave for weeks, Mags. And you’ve decided to listen to him now?”

“Well…” She waved her hands helplessly.

“You’re afraid he’s going to give you a hard time for breaking the engagement?”

“My son hates me, Allison. It’s time I faced that. Why keep butting my head against a wall, darling? It’s painful, and it dulls the senses.”

Allie took one of Mags’s hands in both of hers. “He doesn’t hate you. But if you keep abandoning him, he will. And yes, he’s going to give you hell, I mean, have you met Trevor?”

Sniffing, Mags gave a little laugh.

“He needs you in his life. He’s always needed you. Maybe this time, you can be there for him.”

“I don’t know.” Mags’s gaze drifted toward the door.

“Where’s Nigel?”

She glanced back at Allie. “He’s staying at the Bellagio.”

Allie left the room. She made her way out of the house and toward the garage, where Simmons polished the side mirror on the limo.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked.

“No, I’m good. Just going for a ride.”

Chapter 21

Trevor ran a hand over his face. Allie said she loved him. Poor girl didn’t understand that he never expected a happily ever after—for his parents or himself. Mags and Nigel were like two children playacting. As soon as things got boring, they moved on to other playmates.

He’d said some very hateful things to Allie, caused her pain again, and he hated that, hated seeing that wounded look in her eyes. But he stood by it all. Love was a fantasy, a dressed-up word for passion.

Maybe it was simply time to end it. He rejected the idea immediately. No, he wasn’t through with Allison Campbell. And as long as she understood that whatever they had was temporary, they would be fine.

Of course he was fond of her. And yes, he loved being inside her, tasting her, touching her. Her response to him was like a drug, left him craving more. He liked the way she bit her lip to study the chessboard while she contemplated her next move. The way she smelled and the way she laughed and the way she cared about her family. But that wasn’t love. Far from it. That was appreciation for another person. To muck it up with talk of love was beyond ridiculous. And she needed to understand that.

He stood from behind the desk and stretched his arms over his head. He needed more coffee. Actually, he needed a swim. It would clear his head and maybe he could think of a way to clear the sadness from Allie’s eyes.

He checked his computer one last time and made his way up the stairs. Once he hit the landing, Mags walked toward him. “I thought you’d left with the other one.” He brushed by her and walked in the opposite direction toward his room.

Mags trotted along behind him. “I want to talk to you.”

“No time,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. “I’m busy today. If you need a ride to the airport, have Simmons take you.” Walking into his room, he shut the door in Mags’s face.

He shed his jacket, tie, and shirt, and had just started working the button on his trousers when the door opened and Mags strolled in. “Excuse me, Mother, I’m in the middle of something.”

She waved a hand in his direction. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, darling.” She walked to a chair next to the fireplace and sat, crossing one leg over the other.

With a sigh of resignation, Trevor rebuttoned his trousers and grabbed his shirt from the floor, slipping his arms into it. “What is it you want?”

“Shall we eat in the garden tonight?”

“I thought you were moving out?”

“No, dearest, I’ve decided to stay.”

Gritting his teeth, he clenched his fists. “For how long?”

“Well, that rather depends on you.” She rose from the chair and stepped toward him, patting his cheek. “Until you forgive me.”

His face became immobile. “No worries then. I forgave you years ago. Feel free to leave anytime.”

Mags smiled. “I’m not going anywhere, darling. You may as well get used to it.” She left the room in a cloud of sweet perfume. Goddamn Allison. This little ploy had do-gooder stamped all over it.

***

Allie knocked on the door of the suite. Nigel answered wearing a thick terry robe with the hotel initials embroidered on the chest. His eyes were bloodshot, and he hadn’t combed his wavy hair. “Allison, my dear, now is not a good time.”

She edged past him. “Yeah, yeah.” She glanced around the living room. “You don’t have a woman in here, do you?”

“Only you. Did Mags send you?” He waved her inside.

“Um, Nige, why don’t you get dressed?”

He looked down at his bathrobe and grinned. “Don’t want a repeat performance, eh?”

No, she really didn’t. One glance at little Nigel and she was still scarred. “Go pants up.”

With a sigh, he stepped around a large entertainment unit that stood in the center of the room. He came back a moment later in old jeans and a golf shirt. “So, if Mags didn’t send you…”

“I want to talk about Trevor.”

“Ah. We should head down to one of the restaurants. I need a drink for this discussion.” He snagged his room card off the side table, slipped it in his pocket, and opened the door. “After you, love.”