Threads of Hope: Quilts of Love Series by Christa Allan Page A

could evade him, even if he had already moved next to her. “Not now. I want to bid before the auction is over.”
    He stepped in front of her. “Please, this won’t take long. I promise.”
    Not only did Nina not stop herself from rolling her eyes, she hoped her exaggerated display clearly conveyed her exasperation. They stepped to the side, away from the entrance to the room.
    “Are you okay?” He stared at the lump on her forehead.
    “Fine. I’m fine.”
    “Listen, I’m truly sorry—”
    Nina held her hand up in front of his face. “Stop.” She gripped her clutch with both hands. “Don’t bother apologizing because, really, why should you now? You didn’t all those years ago when you humiliated me. Why do you think it would matter to me now? At least, I know to not expect anything different from you.”
    Shoving his hands in his pockets, Greg stared at the floor. When he looked at Nina again, his face was taut. “I’m sure I deserve that. Tonight’s not the time, but I can explain—”
    “There’s no explanation that can salvage the humiliation I felt all those years ago and what I felt tonight.” Her head throbbed, but so did the buried resentment inside of her. After so much time being held hostage in her heart, the words she wanted to say finally freed themselves. “You’re right. Tonight’s not the time. But there may never be another time for me to say I prayed that pain would bury itself in you like it did in me. After all, what would someone with money and popularity and success ever need to suffer through?” She noticedheads turning in their direction, and lowered her voice. “I used to feel guilty about that prayer, but after tonight, maybe not.”
    Something shifted in Greg then, and Nina sensed she’d driven the stake into his heart just like she’d intended. She could see his pride turn to ashes just as surely as if she’d set the fire. A momentary recoil, and he said, in a voice so severe she almost didn’t recognize it as his, “You can stop praying now. Your wish has already been granted. And because of it, if not for God, I might not be here tonight to make you so miserable.” He checked his cell phone that had pinged several times while he spoke. “I hope your night is better.” He nodded and walked away.
    His response was a hurricane force wind instead of the breeze she expected. And, had she not already been leaning against the wall, it might have brought her to the ground. Nina watched him, cell phone pressed to his ear, stride toward the stage as Elise announced that the auction had ended.

    Brady waved at the valet when Nina met him again. “How did the bidding go?” His hand resting on her shoulder, he moved her toward the exit.
    “Bidding?”
The quilt. You left to bid on the quilt
. “I don’t know . . . I . . . I missed it.”
    Outside, the night air pushed against them like a damp sponge. Brady led her to a pearl white Mercedes so polished it could have been lifted from a velvet case. The valet opened the door, and Nina eased onto the soft leather seat and welcomed the cool air coming from the vents.
    Brady adjusted his seat belt and, as the car pulled away from the hotel, he said, “So, what happened that you weren’t able to bid?”
    Nina stared out the window, still sifting through her emotional conversation with Greg. “One of the volunteers stopped to talk to me, and I didn’t make it back,” she said. That was all he needed to know, and it was enough of the truth to not make her uncomfortable manufacturing a story. Besides, it was his stories she was most interested in hearing. “Tell me about New York. It has to be more exciting than discussing quilts.”
    He turned down the volume on the Adele CD and drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel. “Maybe not more exciting.” Brady stopped at the red light and looked at Nina. “I’m not as certain about moving as I was when Elise asked me to go. Especially because of Daisy.”
    Daisy? New