BeMine
___________________________
LondonBillionairesBook1-BonusEpilogue(Novella)
(AuroraandNathan)
AlyssiaLeon
SAGEWOODPUBLISHING
GetnotifiedofnewbooksbyAlyssiaLeon
❦
BEMINE
Copyright©2016byAlyssiaLeon
www.alyssialeon.com
PUBLISHEDINTHEUNITEDKINGDOM
SagewoodPublishingLtd
eISBN:978-1-911519-00-3
PrintISBN:978-1-911519-04-1
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Allrightsreserved.
Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,storedinaretrievalsystem,ortransmitted,inany
formorbyanymeans,withoutthepriorpermissioninwritingoftheauthor,exceptfortheuseof
briefquotationsinabookreviewaspermittedbycopyrightlaw.
Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Thenames,characters,placesandincidentsareproductsofthe
writer’simaginationorhavebeenusedfictitiouslyandarenottobeconstruedasreal.Any
resemblancetopersons,livingordead,actualevents,localesororganizationsispurely
coincidental.
AboutThisBook
BeMineagainthisValentine’sDay.
Afterfouryearsofmarriage,lifeshouldbeblissforAuroraandNathan.But
today,theirfifthValentine’sDaytogether,insteadofloveandlaughterintheair,
thereisfightingandheartbreak.
EverythingcomestoaheadduringanunavoidabletriptoMilan,thefashion
capitalofItaly.WilltodaybetheendoftheroadforAuroraandNathan?Orcan
themagicofValentine’sinMilanhelpsavetheirmarriageandtheirlove?
Thisbonusepilogueisafifteen-thousand-wordnovellaandfollowstheevents
ofthemainstoryin‘BeMine’.
Ifyouhaven’talreadyread‘BeMine’,pleasecheckitout.It’sthestoryofhow
AuroraandNathanoriginallyfellinlove.It’safull-lengthcontemporaryromance
novel.Andit’sFREE.
Clickheretoget‘BeMine’
Happyreading.
Alyssia
TableofContents
Beginning
AboutThisBook
01.WeNeedaBreak
02.Don'tGo
03.DressesandDreams
04.HappyValentine's,Mummy!
05.DesigneroftheYear
06.LoudisIn
07.TaketheOffer
08.UniqueStories
09.FollowthatCar
10.CannotHelp
11.Valentine'sTryst
12.DistractingHer
13.PerfectLife
Author'sNote
NextBook
ApplebySeries
MoreBooks
FREEBook
AboutTheAuthor
JOINMYNEWSLETTER
Clicktheimageaboveorvisitalyssialeon.comtogetthesetwobooksFREE.
1
‘Weneedabreak.’
Aurareadhiswordsagainonherphonescreen.
Theystaredbackather.Soplain.Sotothepoint.SoNathan.
Shescrolleddowntothemessagesshe’dshotoffafterwards.
‘Whatdoyoumean?’
‘Abreakfromwhat?’
‘Nathan?’
‘Nathan!’
Noanswer.
He’dgone.Switchedoffhisphoneandgone.
Droppinghermobilephoneonthehotelbed,shepulledupthesidezipofher
blush-reddress.Thesoftclothclungtoherslimcurvesandendedjustaboveher
knees.Sheadjustedtheshoulderstraps.Everydressshecreatedforherself,she
reallycreatedforNathan’seyesfirst.Shelovedseeinghissilver-greyeyeslightup
withasexygleamandhislipsquirkintoanappreciativesmileashemadehertwirl
forhim.Andthenlaterwhenhestrippedthedressoffher…
Breathcatchingatthememory,shesmoothedherhandsdowntheredfabric
wrappingherhips.Tonightshouldhavebeenspecial.Shealwaysworeredtonight,
eversincethefirstValentine’sNightshe’dsharedwithNathanfouryearsago.But
tonighthewasn’theretoseeherinhersexycreation.
Heshouldhavebeenhere.
Thepainofmissinghimsqueezedherchest.
Tonightwassuchanimportantnightforher.He’devenrearrangedhiswork
scheduletobebyherside.Butthenthey’dhadthatstupidargumentyesterday,
and…
Auracurledhernailsintoherpalm.
Sheshouldn’thavetoldhimshedidn’tneedhim.
Butshehadn’tmeantit!Heshouldknowshehadn’tmeantit!
Coldnightairblewinthroughtheopenbalconydoorsandstirredthefinehairs
onherbarearms.Shewenttoclosethedoorsbutstoppedatthesightoutside.The
pinkduskhaddarkenedtodeeppurple,andMilancitycentrelaybelowherlikea
carpetofgoldenlights.Thearcheddoorwaysofthebarsandrestaurantsglowed
theirwelcometoeveningrevellers.Andheart-shapedredlightshungabovethe
roads.Italy’scityoffashionwasreadytocelebrateValentine’sNightinstyle.
SheglancedintothedistancewherepasttheredrooftopstheDuomo’scarved
spiresroseintothenightsky.Amongtheglassskyscrapers,Milan’sancient
cathedralstoodlikeaproudkingwatchingoverhisbelovedcity.
Itwasstrange.Insuchabeautifulcitysheshouldhavefeltmore.Thenoiseof
trafficandpeoplereachedhereventhishighuponthehotelbalcony,butshestill
stoodaloneinabubbleofemptiness.Everytimeshe’dcometoMilanbefore,
Nathanhadbeenwithher.Nowtonight,itwasjusther.
Auraclosedthebalconydoorsandfrowneddownattheornategoldhandles.
Shecouldn’tspendtheentirenightmissingNathan.He’dchosennottobehere.
Andshehadafunctiontoattend.Shehadtogetonwithit,hadtobeprofessional.
Andgoingtothedressingtable,shepickedupherlipstickandappliedthelast
touchofmakeup.
There.Perfect.
Herface-framingblackcurlsshoneinthesuite’swhitelight,andalightdusting
ofgoldpowderhadbroughtoutthebrightgreenofhereyes.
Therewouldbephotographersatthefunctiontonight.Butinthisdress,and
lookinglikethis,shewasreadyforanything.Allshewasmissingwerehershoes.
Shelookedaroundforthematchingredheelsshe’dchosenfortonightand
spottedthembeneathanemptysidetable.Lonelinesswrenchedhergutsagain,and
sheretrievedhershoes,allthewhileavoidinglookingatthebaretabletop.
Normallyshewouldhavehadavaseoverflowingwithredrosesontopofit.
NathanhadnevermissedhisValentine’sDaytraditionofgettingherthebiggest
bunchofredroseshecouldfind.ButthisyeartherewerenorosesandnoNathan.
Withanangrypressofherlips,shetooktheshoesbacktothebedandsat
downtoslipthemon.WasitreallyherfaultshehadtogotoNewYorktonight?
AndthenforNathantogosilentonher…
Shepickedupherphoneagain.Onemoretry.Hecouldn’tstaysilentallnight,
couldhe?
‘Nathantalktome.’
‘Please.’
Stillnothing.
ForGod’ssake!Hecouldbesodamnstubborn.Andsheglaredatthephone
tryingtosomehowchannelallherangerandfrustrationthroughittohim.
He’dreturnedhomelastnighttofindherpacking.Butifshe’dknownthen
howthingswoulddescendintoafull-scalewarbetweenthem,she’dhavekepther
mouthshut.
She’dbeenbytheirbed,foldingthereddressintohertravelcasewhenhe’d
snuckupfrombehindandcaughtheraroundthewaist.
“What’sallthis?”Hisbreathteasedhercurls.
Auragaspedandswivelledinhisembrace.“God,Nathan!Youscaredme.”
Hissilvereyestwinkled.“Wereyouexpectingsomeoneelse?Thoughitbetter
notbeanotherguy,becausethenI’dhavetohunthimdownwhenI’dratherspend
thenightinmywife’sarms.”
“Nootherguy,MrJealous.”Sheraisedherhandandlovinglystrokedthe
strongangleofhischeekandtheroughstubbleofhisjaw.Atiredsheencovered
hisusuallysharpeyes.Itwasrarethatheworkeduntilteninthenightliketoday.
“Longdayatwork?”sheasked.
Heshrugged.“Theusual.”Andtighteninghisarmsaroundher,hepulledher
tohim.“Hadtodebatewithacoupleofinvestorsthough,andtheyweretough
bastardstogetridoff.”Hedippedhisheadandbrushedhislipsoverhers.“I
thoughtI’dnevergethometoyou.”Andhecapturedhermouthinahungrykiss.
Aurawrappedherarmsaroundhisneckandreturnedhiskisswithfiery
passion.Shepressedintohissolidwarmth,breathedinhisbelovedscentofmusk
andsandalwood,andlostherself.
Withalowgroan,Nathanbrokethekiss.“Baby,you’llhavetogivememuch
morethanthat,”hemurmuredagainstherlips.Andsweepingheroffherfeet,he
depositedheronthebedbesideherhalf-packedcase.
“Nathan!”shegasped.“Letmefinishpackingfirst,orI’llneverbedone.”
Hefrownedathercase.“You’respendingonedayinMilantomorrow.Why
thehelldoyouneedsomanyclothes?”Andstraightening,heshuckedoffhisgrey
suitjacketandstartedunbuttoninghisblueshirt.
Aura’sbreathhitchedwithanticipation.“Well…”shesaid,hergazelingering
onthedipsandplanesofhismuscularchestandstomachbeingrevealed.
“TomorrowisValentine’sDay…”Evenafterfouryearsofmarriage,hestillmade
herheartflutterlikeamadthing.Andrightnow,afterbeingwithouthimfora
wholeweek,allshecoulddowasdevourwithwideeyeseveryhotmuscledinchof
hisbroad-shoulderedsix-foot-plusbody.
Hecamebacktothebedwearingjusthistrousersandasexysmile,and
crowdedherbackagainstthepillows.
Herbluesilkbaby-dollanduntiedroberodeupherthighsleavingherlace
pantiesopentohissight.
Hestrokedupherbarelegs.“TomorrowmaybeValentine’s…”hemurmured,
hisgazehotonherskin.“Butyouonlyneedonedress.Youwon’tbewearing
anythingafteryourawardsceremony.”Andhefeatheredakissonherlips.
Hiswarmhandonherthighsentsparksshiveringacrossherskin.Aura’seyes
flutteredshut,andshebracedherhandsonhisshoulders.Hemovedcloser,his
musclesbunchingbeneathhertouch.Andhissearchingfingersskimmedthecurve
ofherthighandteasedthelaceedgeofherpanties.
Hereyessnappedopen.“Nathan…”Hisnameescapedheronasmallmoan.
“What,baby?”Hisbreathfannedhertremblinglips.“Thisisjustatrailerfor
tomorrow.”Andhedippedhisfingersbeneaththeedgeofherpantiesandbrushed
herclit.
Auragaspedandshudderedbeneathhim.
“You’llbetoobusyforclothestomorrow,”hesaidwithasmirkasheteased
hersensitivenub.
“But…butit’snotjustMilan,”sheprotestedfaintly.“IhavetoflytoNew
Yorkstraightafter.”
“NewYork?”Hepulledbackwithafrown.“You’regoingtoNewYork?”
Passionevaporatedinablink.
2
Aurasatup.“It’slastminute.Iknow.ButMarkRochascalledmethisevening,and
hewantstomeetme.”
Nathan’sfrownshottothunder.“WhothehellisMarkRochas?”
“TheRochasGroup?MarkandCelaRochas?Thehusbandandwifedesign
duowhohavetheentireNewYorkfashionindustryeatingoutoftheirhands?”
Hegotoffthebed.“Whydoeshewanttomeetyou?”
“Nathan,really?”Aurastaredathimindisbelief.“Isupposemewinning‘Best
DesigneroftheYear’isn’tsupposedtoleadtoanythingbigger?”
“Youwinanaward.Youpickupyourtrophy.That’swhywe’regoingtoMilan
tomorrow,isn’tit?WheredoesMarkbloodyRochascomeintoit?”
“IfIwanttoexpandmybusinessintothestates,Ihavetoworkwiththebest
peoplethere.Andforgoodness’sake,itdoesn’tgetmuchbetterthanadirect
invitationfromtheRochasGroup.”
Nathanscrubbedhishandthroughhisdarkhairandwenttoglareoutthe
penthousewindowatLondon’snightskyline.“Youwanttoexpand…”Helooked
backather.“It’salittlefast.”
“I’vedonethecatwalkandseasonshowsforfouryearsnow.”Auraswungher
legsoverthesideofthebed.“Thisistherighttime.Everyoneintheindustry
knowsme.”
“ButyoujustgotbackfromaweekinParis.”
“Iknow.It’sbusy.Thespringshowsarejuststarting.”
Hiseyesnarrowed.“Thensummer.Thenautumn.Thenwinter.Yearafter
year.”
Aurafrowned.“Ithoughtyouwantedmetomakeitbig?”
“Iwantyoutohavethecareerthatmakesyouhappy.”Hestudiedher,his
browsknitted.“HowlongisthisNewYorktrip?”
TomorrowwasFriday,Valentine’sDay,andshe’dbeonaplaneouttoNew
Yorksoonafterherawardsceremony.“It’saweekendtrip.ButImayhavetostay
oninNewYorkafewextradays.”
Amusclejumpedinhisjaw,andhisgazeflickedtoheropencase.“Justhow
importantisthistoyou?”
“IneedthisifI’mtotakemybrandtothenextlevel.”
“AndifIsayyourfamilyneedsyoumore?”
“Nathan…it’sjustafewdays.”
“It’salwaysjustafewdays,Aura!You’rebackhomefromParisafteraweek
away.I’mwonderingwhyyouevenbothered.Whydidn’tyoujustgostraightto
Milan?”
“PariswassomethingIhadtodo,justlikeMilanandNewYork.Butthat
doesn’tmeanIdon’twanttocomebackhometoyou.”
“Buteverythingandeveryonecomessecondtoyourdesignlabel.”
Shejumpedtoherfeet.“Howcanyousaythat?Idon’thaveachoice.New
Yorkisimportant.I’dneveraskyoutoputsomethingimportantinyourbusiness
asideforme.”
“Youdon’thavetoask,”hesaidquietly.
Shestaredathim.“Soyouwantmetosay‘no’toanyopportunitythatcomes
myway?”
“I’veneversaidthat.Untilnow,yourcareerandhappinesshavealwayscome
first.”
Herangersimmereddown.Hewasright.He’dalwaysbeenherbiggest
cheerleader,herstrongestsupport.Shesteppedcloserandreachingout,strokedhis
jaw.“Iknow,”shesaidsadly.“You’reeverythingtome.Andifyoureallydon’t
wantmetogotoNewYork…”
Nathanshookhishead.“It’snotmydecisiontomake.”Catchingherhand,he
heldittrappedagainsthisskin.“Doyouwanttogo?”
Aurahesitated.“It’snotthatIwanttogo,”sheadmitted.“Ihaveto.It’swhat
myworkinvolves.”
“There’snevera‘haveto’.Youalwayshaveachoice.”
Hewantedhertochoosetostay.Butthenshe’dlosethisonce-in-a-lifetime
chancetoworkwiththebestdesignersinNewYork.Say‘no’andthey’dnevercall
again.Egoswerethinnerthaneggshellsinherbusiness.Nathanhadnoideawhat
hewasaskinghertogiveup.
Shepulledherhandfromhis.“Youdon’tunderstand.Ican’tjust—”
“Iunderstand.”Histonecut.“Ijustwantedtoknowwhereyourprioritieslay.
Andit’snotwithyourfamily.”Andgrabbinghisshirt,hepullediton.
Auraglaredashediduphisbuttons.“You’ddothesame,”shesaid.“Youeven
camehomelatetonight.Doesn’teverythingcomesecondtoyourwork?”
“Youdon’tcomesecond.AndIdidn’tneedtocomehomeatalltonight.”He
tuckedhisshirtintohistrousers.“AndIdidn’tneedtorearrangeeverythingjustto
beinMilanwithyoutomorrow.”
“SonowI’msupposedtofeelguiltybecauseyouagreedtocometoMilanwith
me.”
Nathanpickeduphisjacket.“Youwantedmethere,didn’tyou?”
“Actually,no.”Auracrossedherarmswithadefiantglare.“IfitmeansI’m
responsiblefortheinconvenienceofyouhavingtorescheduleyourwork,thenno,
Idon’tneedyouinMilan.”
Thecornersofhislipstippeddown,andshruggingonhisjacket,hestrode
fromthebedroom.
ThefullimpactofherwordshitAura.Sheracedafterhim.“Nathan,wait.”
Buthishandwasalreadyonthefrontdoorhandle.Heturnedtoher.“I’ve
neveraskedyoutocompromise.I’vebeenhappytodosoforbothofusuntilnow.”
Heopenedthedoor.“Butitlookslikeyoudon’tneedmeanyway…”Andheleft.
3
Auradroppedthephoneonthebedandglancedaroundtheemptybedroom.But
thehotelsuite’sbaroquebeautywithitsgold-trimmedfurnitureandhand-painted
wallpapercouldn’tdistractherfromherloneliness.
Theirfirstmajorfightinfouryears.Yes,Nathancouldbestubborn,andthere
hadbeenmorethanonetimeshe’dtriedshoutingsenseintohim.Butthoseverbal
sparringmatcheshadalwaysinevitablyendedwiththemineachother’sarms.He’d
neverwalkedoutonherbefore.He’dneverrefusedtospeaktoherlikethisbefore.
Sheclosedhereyes.Sheshouldn’thavesaidshedidn’tneedhim.Shedidneed
him.Sheneededhimsomuch.
WhatwouldNathanbedoingnow?Sheopenedhereyesandregardedthe
silentphone.Wouldhebethinkingabouther?Probablynot.Hehadn’tcalledher
backafterall.
Andgettingupfromthebed,shewenttoleanagainstthewindowframe.The
Duomostaredbackatherfromadistance.
Wasitreallyherfault?Howhadthingschangedsomuchbetweenthemthese
pastfouryears?
MemoriesofLangleybroughtafaintsmiletoherlips.She’dbeenhappyinher
littlesewingroom,inherlittlehouse,inherlittletown.Andthedressesshe’dsewn
there,oneatatime,eachonewithitsstorysewnintoitsstitches.Thosedresseshad
beenoneofakind,justlikethereddresssheworetoday.
Shetouchedthesoftwoolcrepe,andthefineclothslippedbetweenher
fingers.ThosedaysinLangley,adresshadbeenmorethanjustacovering.Ithad
beenastoryofhope.Astoryofwhothewomanwas,herdesires,andhowshe
hopedtobeseen.
Butafashionbrandisn’tmadeinasingleroominalittletownlikeLangley.
Herfingersfellawayfromherreddress.Fameandrecognitiondidn’tcome
chasing.Youhadtochasethem.Thatwasthechoiceshe’dmade.
Thoughthesefouryears,thehighershe’dclimbedthefurthershe’dstepped
fromthedayswhenonedressstoodforthedreamsofonewoman.Nowonedress
wasjustapatterntobeproducedinthehundredsandshippedoutwithhername
attached.
Aurarestedherheadagainstthecoldwindowglassandstudiedthegoldencity.
Thegirlshe’dbeeninLangleywouldlikelylookathernowandstareindisbeliefat
howfarshe’dcome,andathowmuchshe’daccomplished.Butshecouldn’thave
doneitwithoutNathan.Andshecouldn’thavedoneitwithoutputtingherfamily
asideattimes.Latelythough,familyhadtakenabackseatmoreandmoreoften.
MaybethegirlinLangleywouldlookatherwithpity.
Shepulledbackfromthewindowwithafrown.
Itwasn’therfault.Shehadnochoice.Ifshestoppedpushingnow,yearsof
hardworkwouldhavebeenfornothing.Shewouldbeafailure.Thenwhatwould
becomeofherdreams?
Leavingthebedroomwindow,shewentintothelivingareawhereherlaptop
stoodopenonthewritingdesk.Todayhadbeenbusy.She’darrivedinMilaninthe
morningandthengonestraighttomeetingsattwodifferentdesignhouses.It
wouldhavebeenperfectifNathanhadbeenwaitinghereforherafterwards.Andit
wouldhavebeenheaventoknowherValentine’sNightwouldbespentinhisarms
andherweekendwithherfamily.Butdreamingwouldn’tmakethingsright.Sheset
herjawindetermination.Invitationsinthisbusinesswerenevertobeturneddown.
Shehadtodowhatshehadtodo.
Sheglancedatthegoldscrollworkclockonthewall.Almosttime.They’dbe
waitingforhervideocall.
Andsittingdowninfrontofthelaptop,shesignedintothechatappand
waited.
Hergazefellontheglossymagazinebesidethecomputer.Thismonth’scover
wasallher—DesigneroftheYear.Thelengthyinterviewinsidecalledheran
inspirationtoallyoungupcomingdesigners.Auragaveawryshakeofherhead.
Someinspirationshewas,sittingherequestioningherchoicesandworryingabout
herfuture.
Thelaptoppingedandthechatscreenopenedfull.
4
“Mummy!”Aidangrinned,hissilvereyesglowingbeneathhistousledblackcurls.
Heartburstingwithjoy,Auralaughedatherthreeyearold.“Hello,darling.
Where’syoursister?”
“Mummy!Mummy!”Alexasqueaked.Herlittleheadwithitssoftblackcurls
bobbedinandoutofthevideoframeasshejostledforspacewithherolder
brother.
“Let’splaceithere.Thenyou’llbeabletosee,”Aura’smothersaid,adjusting
thecomputersoallthreeofthemcameintotheframe.
“Hi,Mum.”Aurasmiledather.
“HappyValentine’s!”Alexayelledwithahugegrin,thensheclappedherhands
overhermouthandgiggled.
“Aw,thankyou,sweetheart,”Aurasaid.“AndhappyValentine’stoyoutoo.”
“Lisataughtherthat,”Mumsaid.
“AuntyLisagaveuscakestoo.”Aidangrabbedapinkandredboxfrombeside
himonthesofaandheldituptothescreen.Fourhugeswirly-icedcupcakessat
insidewithtwoconspicuousgapswhereafifthandasixthweremissing.
“Theylookyummy,”Aurasaid.
Billmusthavemadethem.HebakedthecakesandpastriesLisaandhesoldin
theirtrendyLondoncafe.Itwasabusinessofloveforthemboth.They’dstartedit
twoyearsagowithNathan’shelp,anditwasnowflourishingbasedonits
reputationforthefinestcakesandcoffees.
“AuntyLisasaidweshouldsaveoneforyou.”Aidanpokedlonginglyatthe
colourfulicingoneachofthefourcakes.
Auralaughed.“That’ssweetofAuntyLisa,butsomehowIdon’tthinkthat’ll
happen.”
“Ohdear,they’vehadmorethanenoughcakeforoneday.”Mumgentlytook
theboxfromAidan.“Let’ssavetherestfortomorrow,love.OtherwiseIdon’t
knowhowI’llgetyoubothtobedonasugaroverload.”
“Ihopetheyhaven’tbeenahandful,mum?”Auraasked.
Mumtuckedherblondehairbehindherearandsmiled.“Notatall.Theywere
playingwiththekidsatLisa’shousemostoftheday,soGeorgeandIwentoutfor
dinner,thenwecollectedthemfromLisa’safterwards.”
“Mummy,wegotballoons,”Aidancrowedhappily.
“Redandpink,”Alexachirped,herdove-greyeyesglowing.
“That’swonderful,”Aurasaid.“ShowmewhenIgethome.”
“Areyoucominghometonight?”Aidan’seyeswidenedwithhope.
Aurashookherhead.“Nottonight,darling.Mummy’sworkingtonight.”His
facefell.“ButyoucanstayatGrandma’s,”Aurasaidbrightly.“Andpromiseme
you’llbothbereallygoodandgotosleepquickly.AndI’llseeyou…soverysoon.”
Shewantedtosay‘tomorrow’,butthatwouldn’thappen,notwithhertriptoNew
York.
Aidannoddedsadly,andAlexagaveherahopefulsmile.
Auracurledherfingersintoherpalms.Ifonlyshecouldreachthroughthe
screenandgatherthembothtoherandneverletgo.She’dheldthemtoobriefly
lastnight,andthenshe’dhadtoleavethembehindtocometoMilan.Andnowshe
wasleavingherbabiesonceagainwithnoideahowmanydayswouldseparate
them.Howmanymorenightsbeforeshecouldholdthem,smelltheirsweetbaby
scent,andkissthemgoodnight?
MumgatheredAidanandAlexatoherinaquickhug.“There’snoneedforthe
longfaces.WishMummygoodnightandthenrunofftobed.You’llseeherand
Daddytomorrow.”
Auradidn’thavethehearttocorrecther.
Bothchildrencheeredup,andpressingkissestothecomputerscreenforher,
hurriedofftobed.
Theydisappeared,andAuraswallowedbacksuddentears.
“They’vemissedyousomuch,”Mumsaid.“It’llbegoodforthefourofyouto
havethisweekendtogether.”
“Mum,I’mnotcominghomethisweekend.”
“But…whynot,love?”
“I’mflyingouttoNewYorktonight.”
Mumsatback,lostforwordsforamoment.“AndNathan?”sheasked
eventually.
“I’mtravellingalone,”Aurasaid,andjustsayingthatbroughtawaveof
lonelinesswashingoverher.
“ButNathanhadarranged…”
Aurasatforward.“What?Whatdidhearrange?”
“He’dplannedasurpriseweekendaway.He’dclearedhisdiaryforit.”
“I…Ididn’tknow.”
Mumshookherhead.“Nowonderhe’sworkinglatetonight.Ithoughtit
strange.HewassupposedtobeinMilanwithyou.”
“Nathan’sworkingtonight?”Auraasked,latchingontoanyinformationabout
him.
“Hasn’thespokentoyou?”
Auraglancedaway.
“Aura,”Mumsaid.“Iwon’tpokemynosebetweenthetwoofyou.Butyou
havetotellmeifyou’renotallright.”
“I’mfine,Mum.I’vebeenbusy.That’sall.”
“You’vebeenrunningraggedformonthsnow.You’rebarelyhome.Isthis
reallywhatyouwantfromyourwork?”
“It’snotsomethingIcancontrolorstop.TherearethingsIhavetodoto
surviveinthisbusiness.”
Mumfrowned.“Noneofus‘haveto’.Weallhaveachoice.”
ExactlywhatNathanhadsaid.ButitwaseasyforhimandMumtosaythat.
Theyweren’ttheonestryingtobuildacareerwherewhoyourubbedshoulderswith
wasthegoldengrailofsuccess.
“I’msuretheworldwon’tendjustbecauseyoutakeastepback,”Mum
continued.
“ThenImightaswellquit,”Aurasaidwithafierceshakeofherhead.“And
whyshouldIbethequitterwhenothersgetoutthereanddowhatneedstobe
done?”
“Butyou’renotthem,andtheirlifeisn’tyours.”
“God,youmakemesoundsoincapable.”
“Aura,that’snotwhatImeant.Iknowyou.AndIdon’tthinkworld
dominationisinyourblood.Betruetowhatmakesyouhappy.Letotherpeople
livethelivestheychoose.”
“Youdon’tunderstand,”Aurasaidquietly.“Ihavenochoice.IfIslowdown
orstepofftheshowwheel,I’llbeleftbehind.Anobody.”
“Howcanyoubenobody?Thefashionworlddidn’tmakeyouwhoyouare.It
wasyourowntalent.Youmadeitbyyourself.”
“No,Mum.”Aurashookherhead.“Notbymyself.Ihadyou,Nathan,
everyone.AndIwon’tletanyofyoudown.”
Mumtutted.“Youcouldnever.I’malreadysoproudofyou.AndI’llbeproud
ofyounomatterwhatyouchoosetodo.Ijustwantyoutobehappy.”
Auragaveherasmallsmile.“Thanks,Mum.”
“Iwon’tmakeyoulateforyourawardtonight,”Mumsaid.“Butpromiseme
you’lllookafteryourself,love.”
Withanodandagoodnight,Auraswitchedoffthevideochat.
Thelaptopscreenflickedtoblack,andtheroomdescendedintosilenceonce
more.
Funny,tonightwassupposedtobehercrowningglory,anightrecognizingher
talent.Sheshouldbeskippingherwaytotheawardsceremony.Butshecouldn’t
evenmusterthewilltostandupandtakethefirststep.Herhearthadremainedin
LondonwithNathanandtheirbabies,andhadn’treturnedtoher.
Sheclosedthelaptop,andgoingbacktothebedroom,pickedupherphone
andswipedtoNathan’stext.
‘Weneedabreak.’
Hewasworkingtonight,somaybethatwaswhyhewasn’treplyingtoher.
No,whowasshekidding?Nathanalwaysansweredhertextsnomatterwhere
hewas.
Shestudiedhiscurtwordsagain.
Whathadshedreamedherfuturewouldbelike?
Whateveritwas,Nathanhadalwaysbeenpartofit.
Shehadtotexthimonemoretime.Hehadtoreply.
Butsuddenlyanewmessagepoppeduponscreen.
AurasighedasherPA’swordsletherknowthecarwasheretotakehertothe
awardsceremony.
Shewasoutoftime.Andpickingupherpurse,sheleftthebedroom.
5
“I’vebeensoluckytomeetandworkwithsomanytalentedpeople.Iwouldn’tbe
herewithouteverythingI’velearnedfromthem.”Aurapausedinheracceptance
speechandglancedaround.
Thelavishfunctionhallwithitsmarblepillarsandglitteringchandeliers,enticed
witharichscentofrose,cinnamon,andsugar.ItcalledtomindanItalianbakery,
buttherewerenocakesnearthestage.Fashionistasanddesignersfromalloverthe
worldfilledthehallandspreadbeforeherlikeaseaofinterestedfaces.Shehad
theirattentioninthefront.Buttowardstheback,alotofair-kissingwasgoingon
andlotsofbrightsmilesasnetworkinghappenedinearnestandconnectionswere
made.
She’dkeptherspeechshort.Whatdidshehavetosaythatthesemuchmore
experiencedpeoplehadn’theardamilliontimesbefore?
DesigneroftheYear.
Who?Her?
Suddenlyitseemedajoke,andshegrippedthegoldstatuettetighter.Itwas
formedintheimageofafashionablewomanholdingaloftacrystalglobe.
Aura’sgazedroppedtothestatuette’sdarkwoodbase.
AuroraTravers.
Thatwashernameengravedingold.
Andshewastheoneuponstagetonightmakingthisacceptancespeech.She
wasthestaroftheshow.Butitsuredidn’tfeellikeit.
Sheclearedherthroat.“MostofallIwanttothankmyfamilyfortheirloveand
support,and…andmyhusbandforbeingbymysideeverystepoftheway.He
was…ismyrock.”
ButNathanwasn’tbyhersidetonight.
Shescannedthelisteningfacesagain.Butnostranger’ssmilecouldfillthe
emptinessinsideher.Nathanwouldhavestoodrightinfront,andhissmileof
encouragementwouldhavebeentheonlyonethatmattered.
“Um…”Sheglanceddownatthegoldstatuette.Thecrystalglobeglittered
beneaththehall’sbrightlights,andrainbowhuesdancedacrossitsglasssurfacelike
congratulatorywinks.
AllatoncearealitysankinforAura.She’dbeensocaughtupinher
heartbreak,she’dmissedit.
Shelookedbackatthewaitingaudience.“IneverdreamedgrowingupthatI
wouldreachthisplace.Ineverevendaredhope.ButIhopeyoungdesignerscan
lookatmetodayandknowthatnomatterwheretheythinktheyare,theycanstill
reachtheirdreams.”Shepausedwithasmallsmile.“IalsoknowI’veplentymore
learningandworktodo,and…”Sheheldupthestatuette.“Thisbeautifulaward
willbemyencouragementtostayonthatjourney.I’msograteful.”
Thehalleruptedintoapplause,andAurabreathedout.
Thiswastheaward’struemeaning.Itdidn’tsuddenlymakeherbetterthan
anyoneelse.Infact,itmeantnothingtoanyoneelse.Butitwashermarkerofhow
farshe’dcomesincethoseearlydaysinLangley.Shewasabetterdesignerthan
fouryearsago,butthatwasonlythebeginningofthejourney.
Shebenttothemicrophonetosayherfinal‘thankyou’,andafamiliarface
towardsthesideofthehallcaughthereye.
Shefroze.
Nathan?
Hewasfarfromher,andthelightwasdimmerthere,butshe’drecognizehim
anywhere.
Herheartthunderedinherchest.Hewasleaningbackagainstamarblepillar,
tallandhandsomeinhisfitteddarkeveningsuit.Peoplemilledaroundhim,oneor
twotryingtocatchhisattention.Buthislighteyeswereintentonher.Shelocked
gazeswithhim,andjoyandreliefbloomedinside.
He’dcomeforher.
“Ahem.”Theyoungpresenteronstagebesideherclearedhisthroatquietly.
Aurasnappedbacktothepresent.“Thankyou,”shesaidintothemicrophone,
nottakinghergazefromNathan.Thenshequicklysteppedoffthepodium.
“Fantasticspeech,”thepresentersaidashewalkedoffstagewithher.
“Thanks.”Auragavehimafleetingsmileandurgentlyscannedthehallagain
forNathan.
Buthewasn’tthere.
Hadhereallybeenthere?
Sheshookherhead.WasshesodesperatetoseeNathan,shewasimagining
himeverywhere?
“Aurora.”Severalpeoplecametooffertheircongratulationsasshesteppedoff
stage.Aurasmiledandthankedthem,shookhandsandkissedcheeks,allthewhile
movinginthedirectionNathanhadstood.
Herred-hairedPAcameandcaughtherinahug.“Aura,youdidgreat,”she
said,abroadsmilelightinguphercheerfulface.
Aurahuggedherback.They’dworkedtogetherthreeyearsnow,andSallyhad
madeherselfindispensable.Thingsmagicallyswitchedfromchaotictosmooth
whenevershewasaround.
“Willyoulookafterthisforme?”Auraasked,handingherthestatuette.
“Sure.”Sallytookitandlookeditoverinawe.“It’sbeautiful.”
ButAurawasalreadysearchingforaglimpseofNathanagain.“Sally,givemea
minute,okay?Ineedtofindsomeone.”AndshehurriedpastherPAtowhere
Nathanhadtobe.
6
HerheartwasbeatingafranticrhythmbythetimeshereachedthepillarNathan
hadbeenleaningagainst.Buttheonlypeopletherewerefourwomensipping
colourfulcocktails.Oneofthem,anolderladywiththinglassesatopherhawkish
nose,smiledather.
AuraatoncerecognizedMonicaDuchenne,aParisiennedesignershe’dmet
duringherweekinParis.HidingherdisappointmentatnotfindingNathan,she
smiledback.
“Aurora.”Monica’shigh-classFrenchaccentrolledhername.“Letme
introduceyoutoSelinaAubrey…”
TheyoungblondenexttoMonicasmiled.
“…Andherbusinesspartner,JanelleOlson,”Monicacontinuedwithanodfor
thecurly-hairedbrunettestandingclosetoSelina.
“AndthisisEricaBon.”Monicaindicatedthelastoftheirgroup,awispy
youngwomanwithshortplatinum-blondehair.“SheisbasedinLondonlikeyou.”
AurasmiledatErica.“I’veseenyournamesomewhererecently.”
“LondonFashionShowthisyear,”Ericasaid.“Ihavetheslotafteryou.”She
laughed.“ItmeansI’vegotmyworkcutouttomakeanimpactifyou’reupfirst.”
“You’lldofantastic,”Aurasaid.“Ilovemycollectionthisyear,butit’shonestly
notasearth-shatteringasafewoftheinterviewsaremakingitouttobe.Thoughof
course,I’dbeoverthemoonifitis.”
“Wow,you’retoohumbletobetrue,”Selinasaidwithatossofherlong
blondehair.“IfI’dwon‘DesigneroftheYear’,youcanbetI’dbecrowingfrom
everyrooftopaboutit.”
Aura’sfaceheated.“It’snotthatIdon’twanttoshoutfromtherooftops.It
justfeelsawkwardtomakeafuss.”
“Ah,thefamousEnglishreserve,”Monicasaid,smiling.
“That’susEnglish.”Ericabeamed.“Wedon’twanttomakeafuss.”
Janelleshookhercurlyhead.“Youcan’tstandback.You’vegottoshout.It’s
theonlywayyou’llbeheardinthecrowd.Thelouderthebetter.”
“Theridewillberoughifyou’retheshyandretiringtype,”Selinasaidwitha
smirk.
“Yes,loudisthenew‘in’thing,unfortunately.”Monicasighed.“Inmyyounger
days,wecouldaffordtobequieter.Butnowitisallaboutbeingoutthere.The
designerherself,shehasbecomethebrand.”
“Istrugglewiththatbigtime.”Ericaranahandthroughherplatinumhair.“It’s
probablywhyI’mstillaprawninthegame.”
“You’renottheonlyone,”Aurasaidquietly.“It’sworsewhenyouhaveto
leaveyourfamilybehindjusttogomeetthepeopleyouneedtomeet.”
Ericagrimaced.“Idon’thavechildrenyet.Butmyhusbandisdefinitely
reachingtheendofhistetheradjustingtomybrutalschedule.”
“Trynevertomarryoutsidetheindustry,”Monicasaidsagely.“Butatthevery
least,hireagoodnannyortwoforwhenthechildrencomealong.”
“ButNannyornot,younevergettoseeyourchildrengrowup,”Aura
protested.
Monicashrugged.“Itisonlywhentheyareyoungitfeelslikeasacrifice.Both
mychildrenwenttoboardingschool,andnowtheyaregrownupandhappy.Iam
herewhereIwanttobe,andithasworkedoutwellforusall.”
Aurafellsilent.ThethoughtofsendingAidanandAlexaofftoboarding
schoolmadeherstomachclench.Shecouldn’tdoitinamillionyears.Besides
which,Nathanwouldbringdowntheroofifsheevensuggestedit.
“Marriageandchildren.”Selinagaveafineshiver.“Socomplicated.I’mglad
I’mpostponingallthat.”
Janellegaveherfriendaslygrin.“Youdidn’tpostponeit.You’rejustwaiting
foracertainItalianhunktonoticeyou.”
“Who?”Ericaasked,hereyebrowsshootingupwithcuriosity.
“MassimoFiorelli,”Janellesaidsmugly.“HetookovertheFiorelliretailchaina
monthagowhenhisfatherretired.”
Erica’seyeswidened.“IknowFiorelli.TheyowntheElloraandClayton
brands,don’tthey?”
“AndPhoenixJewellery,”Auraadded.
“Fiorelliishuge,”Monicasaid.“Theyareeverywhere.”
“AndMassimoisquiteacatch.”Janelle’seyestwinkledatSelina.“Atleastthe
drovesofwomenswarminghimallthetimeseemtothinkso.”
SelinashotAuraanarrow-eyedlook.“You’llseehimtomorrow.”
“Iwill?”Auraasked.
Selinanodded.“Iheardyou’remeetingMarkandCelaRochas.Massimoisa
partnerintheRochasGroup,sohe’llbethere.”Hervoicetwangedwithenvy.
“Ineverknew,”Aurasaid.
NotthatitwouldmakeanydifferenceifthisMassimoFiorelliwasatthe
meetinginNewYorktomorrowornot.Hewasjustanotherpotentialbusiness
partnerinthesprinttomakeitbig.
“He’lllikeyou.”Janellegaveheranappraisinglook.“He’sItalian,andyouhave
anItalianlookwithyourdarkhair.And‘Englishreserve’mightbeaninteresting
changeforhim.”
Aurashookherhead.“I’mhappilymarried.”
Butthe‘happily’partwasdebatablerightnow,andherheartsankagainatthe
thoughtofNathan.Sheglancedatthemarblepillar.Ifhe’dbeenheretonight,she
wouldn’thavewastedaminutemoreatthisfunction.She’dhavespedbacktothe
hotelroomwithhim,wantingnothingmorethantobeinhisarms.
Selinasnorted.“Oh,please.Sincewhenwas‘beingmarried’aproblemto
hookingup?Haven’tyouseenthenot-so-secretcouplesaroundhere?Beingmarried
toothershasn’tslowedthemany.”ShegaveAuraathoughtfulonce-over.“Yeah,
Massimowilllikeyou.”
“Don’tsweatit.”JanellegaveSelinaafriendlynudge.“He’sheretoday.So
catchhimearlybeforealltheotherhopefuls,andwithsomeValentine’smagicon
yourside,youneverknow.”
Selinablushedandlookedaroundeagerly.“Ididn’tknowMassimowashere.”
“Lookfortheexcitedcrowdofwomen,”Monicasaidwithasmile.
Ericarolledhereyes.“I’mgladI’mmarriednow.AtleastIescapeallthis
chasingabout.Hubby’smeetingmeinfifteenminutes,andthenit’sValentine’s
Nightforus.”ShegrinnedatAura.“Betyournightissortedtoo,huh?”
“Actually,IthinkIsawmyhusbandaroundheresomewhere,”Aurasaid.“I’d
bettergofindhim.”Andwithafarewellsmileforthewomen,sheleftthem.
Thathadbeenalie.
Auramadeherwaytothefrontofthehallpastatableofcolourfulfruitsalads
thatlookedtobeburstingwithflavours.
She’dseensomeone,buthaditbeenNathan?Mumhadsaidhewasworking
tonight.Sohewouldn’tbeinMilananyway.
Butshestillslowedherpaceandglancedaround,hopingforaglimpse,
something.
Nothing.
Awaitercarryingatrayofwine-filledglassesapproachedher.“Drink,signora?”
“No,thankyou,”shesaidquietlyandturnedtoheadforthehallentrance.She
hadthreehoursbeforeherflighttoNewYork,andwaitingthattimeoutinthe
peaceofherhotelroomseemedpreferabletostayingoninthiscrowd.
Withatipofhishead,thewaiterlefther,andAuracastonelastlookaround
thepackedhall.
Herheartjumpedtoherthroat.
Nathanstoodseveralmetresaway.
7
Hehadhisbacktoherandwassurroundedbyagroupofpeople.Hewasspeaking
animatedlytothoseclosesttohim.Buttherewasnomistakinghisblackhair,his
broadshouldersinhisdarkeveningsuit,histallathleticphysique.
Nathan.
Auracouldonlystandandstare.He’dbeenhere…allthistime.Andhehadn’t
oncecomeandspokentoher.
Sadnessnumbedher.
HadtheirrelationshipdisintegratedsomuchthatNathanwouldgiveherthe
coldshoulderevenonthisspecialnight?Butthenwhyhadheevenbotheredto
cometoherawardsceremonyinthefirstplace?
Sadnessblazedtoanger.
Itwasnotokaythathesnubbedherandspentthattimechattingwithothers.
Herfingerscurledintoherpalms.Itwouldhavebeenbetterifhe’djuststayed
away.
Thedelightedlookonthefacesofsomeofthewomencrowdinghimcaught
Aura’seye.Andangerboiledtorage.Howdarehe…
Shemarchedovertowherehestood.“Nathan!”
Heturned.
AndAuratookastepback.“Oh!I’msosorry…”
“Vabene.”Abroadsmilecrossedhishandsomeangularface.Butthisclosethe
differencesbetweenhimandNathanwereobvious.
Thismanwasalmostastallandwell-built,buthisskinwasbronzetanned,and
hiseyeswerelightalmondnotsilver.Healsolookedtobeafewyearsolderthan
Nathan.
Shegavehimanapologeticsmile.“Ithoughtyouweresomeoneelse.”For
goodness’sake,herdesperationtoseeNathantonightwasturninganysimilar-
lookingmanintohim.
“AuroraTravers,”themanmusedasshewasabouttomakeanexcuseand
escape.Heheldouthishand.“MassimoFiorelli.”
Aura’seyeswidened.“SignorFiorelli.”Shetookhishand.“Pleasedtomeet
you.”
“Massimo,please.”Heraisedherhandtohislips.“Andthepleasureisall
mine,”hemurmured.
Aurabitherlip.SheknewallaboutItaliancharm,butcomingfromamanlike
Massimo,itwasdeadly.Shesnatchedherhandbackassoonashereleasedher.
“I…Ishouldbeleaving,”shesaid,takingastepback.
“Butwhatisthehurry?Letusspeak.”Andexcusinghimselffromthepeople
aroundhim,hecametoher.“Ihaveyettocongratulateyouonyouraward.”
“Thankyou.”Hewasclose.Auralookedupathim.Howcouldshehave
mistakenhimforNathan?Hewassodifferent.Evenhisscent—asharpcitrus—
wassofarremovedfromthedeliciousmuskandsandalwoodessencethatwas
Nathan’s.
“Ihaveheardmuchaboutyou,Aurora.”Hislightgazetookherin.“Youare
therighttalentforthisaward,Ibelieve.Theperfectmixofcharmandskill.Isense
youwillgofar.”
HeatrosetoAura’scheeks.“That’sverykindofyou.”
“Andmodest,”hesaidwithanappreciativesmile.“Asyoushowedonstage.It
isaqualityIlike.”
“I…um…heardyouknowMarkandCelaRochas?”
“Si.IamapartnerintheRochasGroup.Iarrangedforyoutomeetme
tomorrowinNewYork.ButnowIfeelitisbetterwearemeetingtonight.”
HehadarrangedhermeetingwiththeRochasGroup?Thenewknowledge
wasn’tcomforting.Heseemedtoknowfarmoreaboutherthansheknewabout
him.
“Youwouldn’twanttospendtonighttalkingaboutbusiness,”shesaidwitha
quicksmile.“Maybeitshouldwaitfortomorrow.”
“Business?No.Thatwouldbeboring.Butthereissomuchmoretotalkabout.
Somuchmoretodo…”Somethingglittereddeepinhisalmondeyes.
Hercheekswereblazinglikeafurnacenow.DearGod,theeffectthisman
couldhaveonwomenwascrazy.Butthiswasn’tthedirectionshe’dexpectedtalks
withapotentialbusinesspartnertotake.
“It’sbeenalongday,”shesaid.“AndI’dbeapoorcompanionforthenight.
Also,Ihaveaflighttocatch,so…”
“YourflightistoNewYork,si?”
“Yes,anditleavesverysoon.”
“Thenyoumusttravelwithme.Wearegoingtothesameplace,andmy
airplanewaits.”
“Oh,Idon’twanttoimpose.Itwouldbeinconvenientforyou.”
“ButIinsist.Anditisalwaysapleasuretotravelwithabeautifulwoman.”
Andnodoubtmanyabeautifulwomanhadalreadytravelledwithhim.Aura
staredathim.Itwouldlookchurlishifshesaid‘no’.Andshecouldalsokiss
goodbyeanyhopeofswayingtheRochascontractinherfavour.
Besides,maybeshewasoverreacting.
ForallMassimo’ssmoothtalk,nothingwouldhappenbetweenthemifshe
didn’twantitto.Hewassurelytoowellknowninthefashionworldtotryanything
crazy.Sothesmartthingtodowasaccept.
ButtravellingwithMassimoonhisplanewithoutNathanknowingseemed
wrong,andshecouldn’tbringherselftosaythatimportant‘yes’.
Hefrownedatherhesitation.“Often,youtravelfasterifyoutaketheright
offer,”hemurmured.“Butarefusalmightmeandoorsbecomedifficulttoopenin
future.”
Aurasuckedinabreath.“Isthat…advice?”
“Youcouldtakeitassuch.”
God!hewasactuallycompromisingher.“Well…”shebreathed.“IsupposeI
shouldthankyou.Iwasn’tsureatfirst,butyou’vehelpedmakeitveryclear.It’sa
‘no’.Iwon’tbetravellingwithyouanywhere,noworever.Goodnight,Signor
Fiorelli.”Andturningonherheel,shestalkedaway.
Thebloodynerveoftheman!
Auraquickenedherpacetothefrontofthehall.Sureyouhadtomake
connectionstogetaheadinthisbusiness,butwhatsortofconnections?Shewasn’t
lookingtosleepwithsomeonejusttogetalegupinhercareer.Maybeotherswere
readytodowhateverittook,butnother.
Sheslowedandlookedbacktowhereshe’dleftMassimo.
Womensurroundedhimagain.Andclosesttohimandtryingtocommandeer
hisattentionwasblonde-hairedSelinawholookedlikeakidinacandystorenow
she’dchaseddownherprey.
Aurashookherhead.Theyprobablydeservedeachother.Butasforher,she
wantednothingmorethantobegonefromthisplace.Andturningaway,she
walkedontowardsthehallentrance.
HowthingshadchangedsinceherfirstcatwalkshowinLondontwoyearsago.
She’dbeenecstaticthen.Somuchhardworkandsacrifice,andithadallpaidoff.
Afterwardsthough,she’dbeenundernoillusionabouttheworkstillaheadofher,
butshe’dbeendeterminedtogetahead.
Shestoppedbythenowdimmedstage.Theyounggirlshe’dbeeninLangley
hadoncenaivelythoughteverythingwasstraightforward.She’dthoughtsuccess
waspurelybasedondedicationandskillandawillingnesstolearn.ThatAura
wouldhesurprisedtohearthatthehappytimesshe’dspentworkingone-to-one
withherclientsinLangleyhadbeenthebestofhercareer.
Thedarkstagefilledhervisionandbroughtthestarkrealityofhersituationto
clearfocus.Nowthatshe’dturneddownMassimosothoroughly,he’dneverlether
havetheRochascontract.MaybesomeonelikeSelinawouldgetit.Well…goodfor
her.Shewaswelcometoit.
Butlossstillweighedaton,andAuraturnedawayfromthestage.Thathead-
to-headwithMassimomaywellhaveclosedotherdoorsforhertoo.Shebreathed
outinanguish.Shehadtobereadyforthat.ButwhatwouldshetellMum?
Nathan?Howdidshefacethemknowingshemayhavetostartalloveragain?
Sheglanceddownwithashakeofherheadandwalkedstraightintosomeone.
“I’msosorry!”shesaidhastilyandlookedupandgasped.
8
“Mydear,you’restaring,”thewomansaidwithachuckle.“I’mnotaghost.”
Shewasinherfiftiesandelegantlybeautiful.Hergrey-streakedblackhairwas
drawnbackinachignon,andhergoldbrocadegownmadeherdeep-tannedskin
glow.
“MaraAlexei!”Aurasaid,gaping,butthencaughtherselfandflushedhotwith
embarrassment.“Oh,Ireallyamsorry.”
Maralaughed.“It’sallright.Igetthisreactionalotatgatheringslikethis.
Aurasquirmed.“Sorry.Ijustneverexpectedtomeetyou.Ever.”
MaraAlexeiwasperhapsthemostfamousrecluseinthefashionindustry,but
thatdidn’tstopherfrombeingthedesignercelebritiesandroyaltychasedafter.The
recentLondonweddingofthePrinceofWales’scousinhadseenthebrideweara
MaraAlexeigown.Theintricatelycrafteddresshadbeenthetalkofthefashion
worldafterwards.
“TheUlsterweddingdress,”Aurasaid.“Alençonlaceandpearls.Itwasso
beautiful.”
“Yes,thankyou.”Mara’spolitesmilesaidshe’dheardthatmanytimesbefore.
“SomepeoplethinkIshouldhaveusedcrystalinsteadofpearls,but…”she
shruggeddismissively.
“Butno,thepearlswereperfect,”Aurasaidwithavehementshakeofher
head.“IreadthebridewasfromaFrenchfishingport.WhenIsawthepearlsallI
couldthinkaboutwashowitmustbeatouchofhomeforher,atouchofsimple
tradition,and…”HervoicetrailedoffasMara’sthoughtfulexpressionregistered.
“I’msorry,”Aurasaid.“Youmustgetalotofthistoo.”
“Strangelyenough,Idon’t,”Marasaid.“Peoplesawthedress,andtheysawthe
surface.Theydidnotseeavillagegirljoininganoblefamily,andherneedfora
touchstonetoherpast,orherwishforafutureascomfortingasherchildhood.”
Marastudiedher.“Ienjoyedyourspeechtoday,Aurora.AndI’veseenyourrecent
collection.Ilikedit.”
“Wow,thankyou.Thatmeansalottome.”
Maranodded,stilllookingthoughtful.“Yourdesignsinterestedme,andnowI
seewhy.Theyalsocontainuniquestories.”
Aura’seyesrounded.“I….”Shesearchedforwords.EvenNathan,who’d
alwayssupportedher,hadneverfullyunderstood.Butherestoodsomeonewho
might.“It’shope.Agiftofhope.Iwantawomantofeelherdreamscomealivein
thatdress.”
“Yes,exactly!”Maragrinned.“Youunderstand.Sofewpeopledo.Ithinkyou
areverydeservingofyouraward.”
Aurapaused.“Actuallytheawardfeelsmorelikeastepalongtheway,lesslike
finalsuccess,”shesaidquietly.“I’mnotsurehowtoexplainthat.”
“Youfeelyouarestillatthebeginning,perhaps?”Maraasked.
“MorelikeI’mstandingatthefootofthewrongladderandlookingup.”
“Ah…”Maragaveaknowingnod.“Thecrowdedladder.Youremindmeof
myself.Idecidedlongagotowalkawayfromthecrowdsandthethrowaway
designsthatappearmonthaftermonthontherunways.Iwantedtocreatemyjoy
andletmydreamscomealive.”
“Icanonlyimaginehowfreeingthatis,”Aurasaid,thoughtsswirlinginher.
Howdidonejustwalkaway?Howdidsheeventakethefirststepoffthewell-
troddenshowwheelandforgeherownpath?Butanewdoorofpossibilityhad
opened,andthelightstreamingthroughbeckonedinvitingly.
Marasmiled.“ComemeetmeinLondonsoon.Wethinkalike,youandI.We
willhavecoffeeandtalk.”
AnansweringsmiletouchedAura’slips.“I’dlovethat.Thankyou.”
“Mara,areyouenjoyingyourself?”Atallmanwithsilverhairandagruffvoice
cameandslippedapossessivearmaroundMara’swaist.
“Hans,thisisAurora.”Marasmiledupathim,thenturnedtoAura.“My
husband,Hans.Heisalwayscheckingonme.”
“Ihaveto.Otherwise,youmaysneakbacktothehotel.”Hansheldouthis
handtoAura.“Irecognizeyoufromthestage.Congratulations.”
“Thankyou,”Aurasaid,shakinghishand.
Marabeamed.“Ithasbeenawonderfulevening,Hans.AuroraandIwillbe
seeingmoreofeachother.”
“Excellent!Itwilldoyougood.Youaretooaloneotherwise.”Hegazed
lovinglyintoMara’seyes.“Now,areyoureadyforyourValentine’streat?”
“Willyounotgivemeevenahint?”
Hansshookhishead.“Thatspoilsthefun.”
“Sostubborn,”Marasaid,rollinghereyes.ShesmiledatAura.“Iwillseeyou
verysoon,mydear.”Andleaningforward,shekissedAura’scheek.
Aurareturnedherkiss,andwishingthembothgoodnight,watchedthemwalk
awayhandinhand,chattinghappilytoeachother.
Nathan.
Andsuddenlytheneedtofeelhistouchwasliketheneedtofeelthewarmsun
onlong-frozenskin.
9
Comeon,Nathan.Pickup.
Auracradledthephonetoherearasshemadeherwaytothehotelentrance
wherehercarwaswaiting.She’dfetchedherpurseandphonefromthecloakroom,
andNathan’swasthefirstnumbershe’ddialled.Hehadtopickup.Shemissed
him.Hehadtoanswer.
Theringtonecutinthemiddle,andherheartdropped.
Thenallofasuddenthetonestartedagain,andhopeleaped.
“Hello?”avoiceanswered.
Aurabreathedoutindismay.“Maria.”
“Aura.”Nathan’ssecretary’svoiceheldamotherlysmile.“Howwastheawards
ceremony?”
“Itwasgood.Where’sNathan?Whyisn’theansweringhisphone?”Itwaspast
eightnow.Hecouldn’tstillbeworking.
“He’satameeting,”Mariasaid.“Hedidn’twanttobedisturbed.”
“Tellhimit’sme.”
Mariawasquiet.
“Maria,it’sme.”
“I’msosorry,Aura.Nathansaid…”
Thesuddenstingoftearsslowedhersteps.Auraswallowed.“Bye,”she
murmuredandcutthecall.
Shewalkedthroughthehotel’sglassdoors,andthenight-timechillstruckher
barearmslikeicyfingers,butshebarelynoticed.Thegolden-litMilanstreetwas
infusedwiththelightscentofcoffeefromthecafesandtomatoandbasilfromthe
restaurants.Buteventhisillusionofwarmthcouldn’tcomforther.Shestopped
outsidethehoteldoors.Hintsofnewromancehungintheairascoupleswalked
pastholdinghands.Aurawatchedthem,herbreathafaintmistinthecold.She’d
beenonfiretoreturntoNathaninLondon,butnowshedidn’tevenknowwhat
shewasreturningto.
Herdark-hairedchauffeurgotoutofthecar,andwithasmile,heldtheback
passengerdooropenforher.“Wereturntothehotel,SignoraTravers?”heasked.
“Yes,please,Francesco,”shesaidquietlyandheadeddownthefewsteps,
sparingalastglanceforthecouplesoutandabout.
Brightyellowflashedinthecornerofhereyeasshereachedthecar,andshe
glancedacrosstheroadatawoman’sstylishyellowdressanddarkjacket.
Aurastared.
TheyoungblondewasmakingherwaytoablackMercedesparkedfurtherup
theroad.Shehadn’tseenAura,andshewalkedonwithnoideashewasbeing
watched.Asdidthetalldark-hairedmanwithher.
“SignoraTravers?”Francesco’squestioninggazefollowedAura’sandlanded
onthecouple.“Iseverythingallright?”
Auragrippedtheopencardoor.ThatwasNathanwiththewoman.Ithadto
beNathan.She’drecognizehimanywhere,wouldn’tshe?Themanworeafitted
coatoverhisblacksuit,andhiscoatcollarwasupagainstthecold.Ithidhis
jawline,buthisprofilebeneaththedistantstreetlightswasstillsoheart-wrenchingly
familiar.
Herbreathshortened.
Butmaybeshewasmistaken.Maybeitwasn’tNathanbutasimilar-looking
man.
“SignoraTravers?”Francesco’svoicebrokethrough.
Aurablinkedupathim.“Oh…um…I’msorry…IthoughtIsaw…”She
lookedbackatthecouple.
Thewomansaidsomethingtothemanastheyreachedtheircar,andheturned
toherwithasmilethatstoppedAura’sheartmid-beat.
HowmanytimeshadNathansmiledatherlikethat?Itwashis‘Fine,youwin’
smile.Theonehe’dgiveherwhenhedidn’twanttoadmithe’dbeenwrongabout
somethingthey’dspenthoursarguingabout.
Themanbenttothewoman’searandmurmuredsomethingthathadher
laughing.Theirchauffeuropenedthecardoor,andtheybothgotin.
“Francesco!”Aurasnapped,scramblingintothebackseat.“Followthatcar!”
“Thatcar?”Withaperplexedlook,Francescopointedattheimposingblack
Mercedesthatwasnowpullingawayfromthecurb.
“Yes!Hurry!”Sheslammedthedoorshut.
Hedivedforthedriver’sseat.“Thetraffic,signora,”hesaid,startingthe
engine.“Itwillbedifficult.”
Aurasatforwardintheback.“Just…please,don’tlosethem.”
“Si.”Andwithinsecondshehadtheircarintheflowofvehicles.
AwhitetaxiandgreenminiseparatedthemfromtheblackMercedes.
“Iwilltrytostayclose,signora,”FrancescosaidastheMercedesroundeda
cornerahead.“Butthemainroadwillbebusy.”
Auranodded,andgrippingtheedgeofthedriver’sseat,kepthergazegluedto
theblackcar’sbrightredtaillightsastheyfollowedit.
Thiswascrazy.Thefinalresultwouldbethatthemanwasn’tevenNathan.But
shecouldn’tletgotheneedtoknow.Nomatterhowhardherheadtriedtoreason
withherheartthatNathanwasinLondon,herstubbornheartrefusedtogiveup
hope.
Greyapartmentblockspassedbyoneithersideoftheroad,interspersedwith
older,moreartisticbuildings.Andabovethebricksandconcretewereglimpsesof
greenfromthelushroofterracegardensthatgavethecityasenseofspringabout
tobloom.
Suddenlytheblackcarturnedontothemainroadanddisappearedfromview.
“Wewillfindthem,signora,”Francescosaid,perhapssensingherpanic.
Theywaitedimpatientlywhilethetwocarsinfrontalsoturnedontothemain
road.Thenjustwhenthegreenminimadeitsturn,Francescoacceleratedandnose
totailturnedwithit,notgivingtimeforthesloweroncomingcarstocuthimoff.
Aloudhornblaredbehindthem.
Francescoshruggeditoff,andAurawhippedaroundtolookattheredcarthat
hadbeenforcedtogivethemspace.Thedriverscowledthroughhiswindshieldand
threwhishandsupinexasperation.
Aurachewedherlip.Whatwasshedoing?Wherewasthispanicinhercoming
from?Itwasn’tNathanwiththewomaninthatcar.Itcouldn’tbe.
Butshecranedoncemoretoseeoutthefrontwindshield.“Wherearethey?”
sheasked,herfranticgazesearchingthethrongofcarsinfrontfortheblack
Mercedes.
“Iseethem,signora.”Francescopointedtoablackcarfourcarsaheadof
them.
Aurashookherhead.“No,itwasaMercedes.”
Severalotherblackcarswerefurtherupthetrafficstream,butitwasdifficultto
seedetailevenwiththebrightcitylights.Shesquintedhard.Wasthat…?
“Francesco,thatbigcarthere.”
“ItisaMercedes?”Hetippedhisheadtothesidetolookpastthecarsinfront.
“Ithinkitis.Canyouspeedup?Maybeovertakeafewcars?”
“Iwilltry.”Helookedaroundforanopeningintheadjacentlaneasthey
approachedasetoftrafficlights.
Thelightsflippedtored,andthecarrolledtoahalt.
Agroupofcheeringandlaughingtwenty-somethingsboundedacrosstheroad,
wavingpinkheartballoonsonwhitesticks.Theblackcarhadescapedthelights,
andAuratriedtoseepastthecheeringgrouptowherethecarmightbe.Butbythe
timetheroadclearedandthelightschangedagain,thecarhaddisappeared.
Thegreenlightsetthemmovingoncemore,andtheyhurriedtojointhenow
evenlongerlineofvehiclesahead.Butthecarwasnowhereinsight.
Aurasatbackindefeat.“It’sgone,isn’tit?”
Francescostudiedthetrafficwithafrown,buthissilencewastheonly
confirmationAuraneeded.
“Let’sgetbacktothehotel,”shesaidquietly.
Shelookedouthersidewindowattheshadesofgreycity.Ithadbeenawild
fool’schaseanyway.NathanwasinLondon,andhereshewaschasingarandom
guywho’dhappenedtolooklikehimbeneathdimlightsandanightsky.
“There,signora!”Francesco’sexcitementhadhersnappingforwardinherseat.
0250
Thelastfourdigitsofthenumberplateshe’dmemorizeddisappearedfrom
viewasablackMercedesturnedoffthemainroadontoaquietersideroad.
Auralaughed.“That’sthem!”
“Wewillcatchthemnow,”Francescosaidwithsatisfactionashequickly
changedlanes.AndheenteredthesideroadtheMercedeshadgonedown.
Thisnewpartofthecitywasmoreornate.Thebuildingswerelessgreyand
moreanage-wornyellow.Eye-catchingstatuesdecoratedroofcorners,andgolden
lightsglintedthroughstonelatticeworkonbalconies.Bythetimetheycaughtup
withtheMercedes,itwaspullingawayfromwhatlookedlikeaswankyhotel
entrance.
Francescobroughttheircartoastopontheoppositecurb,andtheblack
MercedesdidaU-turnandthendrovepastthem.Onlythedriverwasinside.
Auraglancedatthehotelwherethecouplemusthavegonein.“Willyouwait
formeaminute?”sheaskedFrancescoasshegatheredherpurseandopenedher
cardoor.
“Si,signora.”
Andgivinghimasmileofthanks,shequicklyexitedthecarandcrossedthe
roadtothehotel.
10
Thehotel’sgleamingmarblelobbybustledwithactivity.Blue-uniformedstaff
hurriedtoandfrowhileguestsmilledabout.Auralettheglassentrancedoors
swingshutbehindherandglancedaround.Noneofthemeninthelobbylooked
likeNathan.
Shewalkedinfurther,herredheelsclickinguncertainlyonthestonemosaic
floor.Butnoflashofyellowdresscaughthereye.Theblondewomanwasn’tthere
either.
Dammit.Thiswassoobviouslyawildgoosechase.Shelookedbackattheglass
doorsshe’dcomethrough.Whathadsheexpectedthough?Thatshe’dseethe
coupleassoonasshewalkedintothelobby?
Hergazefellonthereceptiondeskwhereamanandawomaninnavy-blue
uniformswerebusyservingguests.OnlyonewaytofindoutifNathanwashereor
not,andshemadeherwaytowardsthedesk.
Anolderladywithwhitecurlsandwearingastylishbeltedjacketwasbeing
servedbeforeher.Aurawaited,andjustthenherphonebuzzedinherpurse,a
reminderthatshe’dreceivedatextmessage.Frowning,shefishedoutthephone.
HerPA,Sally’smessageshowedonscreen.‘YourNewYorkticketswere
cancelled.Notsurebywhom.Willfindoutandletyouknow.’
What?Aura’sfrowndeepened.
Sallyhadsentthatmessagefiveminutesago.Auratappedthescreentoreply.
She’dbeensodistractedbythecarchase,shehadn’tevenheardthemessagecome
in.Butwhoonearthwouldcancelherplaneticket?
“CanIhelpyou,madam?”Thereceptionist’svoicehadAuralookingup.
Thewhite-hairedladywasgone,andtheblue-suitedwomanbehindthedesk
gaveAuraaprofessionalsmile,readytoserve.
Auradroppedthephonebackintoherpurse.Themysteryoftheplanetickets
wouldhavetowaitafewminutes.“I’mlookingforsomeone,”shesaid,goingto
thedesk.“Ithinkhe’saguesthere.MrNathanielTravers?”
Thereceptionistshookherhead.“I’msorry,madam.Butourguestlistis
private,”shesaidinanaccentthatheldonlyatraceofItalian.“Unlessyouwere
invitedtovisitbyaspecificperson,Icannothelp.”
“Look,Ijustwanttoknowifhe’sstayinginthishotel.Evenasimple‘no’will
do.”
“Icannothelp.”
Auralookedatherinexasperation.MostlikelyNathanwasn’tevenherein
Milan,andallthesepeoplehadtodowasconfirmhewasn’there.Maybeithadto
beafamilyemergencyorsomethingforthemtogiveoutevena‘no’.
“I’mhiswife,”shesaid,meetingthereceptionist’ssuspiciousgaze.“AndIneed
tospeaktohim.Straightaway.”
Thereceptionistcockedherheadtothesidewithaquestioninglook.“Ifyou
areMrTravers’wife,thencouldyounotcallhim?”
“I…Ihaven’tbeenabletogetthroughtohimallevening,”Auraadmitted.
Thesuspicioninthereceptionist’seyeshardened.
“I’mnotlying,”Aurasaid,andquicklyrummagedthroughherpurseforher
passport.ShealwayskeptitwithherwheneversheleftEngland.Shepassedthe
slimredbooklettothereceptionist.“Iamhiswife.”
Thereceptionistflickedtothephotointhepassport,lookedather,thenback
atthephoto.“MrsAuroraTravers?”
“That’sright.”Aurasaidwithrelief.Finallytheyweregettingsomewhere.
Thereceptionisthandedbackthepassport.“Manypeoplehavethesamelast
name.Itisn’tgoodconfirmation.IfMrTraverswereindeedstayinghere,Iwould
havetospeaktohimfirst.”
“Areyousayingheisn’tstayinghere?”Auraasked,relieffloodingback.Maybe
thiswasheranswer.Themanshe’dseenhadn’tbeenNathan.
“Icannotconfirmeitherway.”
Auranearlyscreamed.Sure,theyhadtoprotecttheirguest’sprivacy,butthis
wasridiculous.NowshehadtophoneNathanandmagicallygethimtoanswerher
sohecouldtellthemshewashiswife.Really?
Maria.
Theideacamelikeaflashoflightinthedark.
IftheycalledNathan’scompanynumber,they’dbeputthroughtoMaria,and
shewouldconfirmwhoAurawas.ItseemedashametodisturbMaria’snightfor
somethingassillyasthis,butthereceptionistwasn’tgivingmuchchoice.
“CalltheAstrecaofficeinLondon,”shesaidquickly.“Nathan’ssecretary
knowsme.Butlook,ifhe’snothereinyourhotel,thenjustsaysoandsave
yourselfthetrouble.”
Thereceptionistsmiled.“Excuseme.Iwillmakethephonecall.”Andshe
wenttothefarsideofthedeskandaphonethere.Shedialled,andafewseconds
laterspoke,shootingAuraaquickglanceinthemiddleofit.
Aurawaited.Butthemoretimetickedby,themoreavoiceinsideherinsisted
thatshe’dmadeamistakeandNathanwasn’there.
Thereceptionistplacedthephonedownandcamebacktoher.
“Well?DidMariatellyouwhoIam?”Auraasked.
“709,MrsTravers.”Thereceptionistplacedablackkeycardonthedesk.“Top
floor.MrTraversbookedanexecutivesuiteearliertoday.”
Auragrippedthedeskedgeandstared.Nathanwashere.He’dbeeninMilanall
along,andhenevercametoher.Butwhyputherthroughthis?Herthroatclogged
likeaballwasstuckinit,andshecouldn’tforceoutasound.Shegazeddownatthe
blackrectanglewithitsluxurygoldlogo.Suddenlytheywerenotonlygivingher
Nathan’sroomnumberbutthekeystohisroomtoo.Butnow,shewasn’tsureshe
wantedtogoupthere.
Somehowmusteringasmallsmileofthanksforthereceptionist,shetookthe
keycardwithanunsteadyhandandthenmadeherwaytothebankofelevatorsat
thefarendofthelobby.Hereverystepseemedtobedragginghertowards
somethingshedreadedtosee.
11
Theelevatordoorsopenedontheroyal-bluecarpetedtopfloor.
Thesquarehallwaysheenteredwasbrightandspaciouswithcreamwallsand
panelleddarkwooddoors.Asuitedoorstoodtoeithersideofher,andathirdone
straightahead.ThedoortoNathan’ssuite.
Auratightenedhergripontheblackkeycard.IfNathanwasinhissuite,then
theblondewomanhe’dcometothehotelwithwouldbeintherewithhim.What
weretheydoingrightnow?
Sheapproachedthedoor,herstepsslowandquietonthethickcarpet,andher
mindspinninglikeshe’dsteppedintoanalternatereality.Yes,sheandNathanhad
arguedyesterday,butinthefouryearsoftheirmarriagethey’dneverhadeyesfor
anyonebuteachother.Howcouldthisbehappeningnow?HowcouldNathangive
uponthemsomuchhe’dratherspendhisnightwithanotherwoman?
ImageafterimageofNathantogetherwiththewomanrushedtoher.Aura
shookherhead,willingherrestlessmindtostopjumpingtothesetorturous
thoughts.Shequicklyswipedthekeycardbeforeshecouldthinkmore.
Afaintclick,andthedooropenedanotch.
Shetookabreath,andsplayingherfingersonthedarkwood,pushedthedoor
openandsteppedinside.Nathan’sbarelytherescentofmuskandsandalwood
greetedher,stirringhersenses.Thelivingareasheenteredwasultra-modern,all
darkwoodandcreamfurniture.Thelinesweresimpleandclean,leatherandfine
wool.Understatedluxury.Verymasculine.VeryNathan.
Aurasilentlyclosedthedoorbehindherandwalkedfurtherintotheroom.
Nathanpreferredthismoderndecorovertheornate-stylehotelroomshe’dbooked
forherselfinMilan.Tooflowery,he’dsayabouthersuite.Howcananyonethinkwithall
thescrollsanddrapescloggingtheirvision?Butshelikedatouchofantiqueelegance.It
wasabeautifulexperienceinitsownright.AndshewastheonlyoneNathanhad
everbenthispreferencefor.Buthewasmakingnosuchconcessiontonight.
Lightpianomusicfloatedoutfrombehindahalf-opendoortoherleft.She
followedthesoftmusic,andhandtrembling,openedthedoor.Thesightthatmet
herstoppedhercoldinthedoorway.
Gentlelightflickeredfromcandlesonthesidetables,glintedoffabottleof
champagneinasilvericebucket,andlandedonredrosepetalsstrewnoverthe
rumpledbed.
Aura’sbreathcaught,hergazerivetedtothewhitebedsheetsthathadbeen
pulledasideasifsomeonehadjustgotoutofbed.Liltingpianomusicplayed
throughhiddenspeakers,agentlemelodyforherthumpingheart.Sheglancedfrom
thebedtothepearlyshinecomingfromanearbyarmchair.Acreamsilknightdress
laythere.
Withadisbelievingshakeofherhead,shetookanumbstepforward.This
couldn’tbehappening.Couldn’tbe.Butthecreamsilkgleamedremorselessly,mocking
her.Andclenchingherfist,sherushedtothearmchair,droppedherpurseandkey
card,andsnatcheduptheshortnightdress.Theclothwassoftandfine,andthe
laceofthegenerousbracupswashandembroidered.Itwasbeautiful,and
expensive,andnothers.Whodiditbelongto?Thewomaninyellow?
Thesoundofrunningwatercamefromacloseddoornearby,andAura’sheart
thuddedupalevel.Someonewasintheen-suite.Thesilknightdressfellfromher
hand.Morethanonesomeone?
Shewenttotheen-suiteandgraspedthedoorhandle.
“Oh!”Thewoman’sstartledvoicehadAuraspinningaroundtostareatthe
bedroomdoorway.
Theblondewomanshe’dseenwithNathanstoodthereclutchingabouquetof
redroses.
“Whoareyou?”Auraasked,leavingtheen-suitedoorandgoingtothewoman.
“I’msosorry.”Thewomanlookedguilt-stricken.“Ishouldn’tbehere.I…I’ll
leave.”
“It’sallright,Jenny.”Nathan’sdeepvoicebehindherhadAuraspinning
aroundagain.
He’dcomeoutoftheen-suite,barefoot,withonlyablacktowellingrobe
coveringhistallmuscularframe.
Aurastaredfromhimtoawide-eyedJennyandbackagain,herentirebeing
quiveringwiththeneedforanswers.
ButNathanignoredtheobviousquestioninhereyesandsmiledatJenny.“And
thanksforsortingeverything,”hesaid.“Taketherestofthenightoff.Goenjoy.”
Jennygrinned.“Thanks.Oh…whataboutMrsTravers’driverandcarwaiting
outside?”
“Wewon’tbeneedingthemeither,”Nathansaid.
Withanod,Jennyturnedtoleavebutsuddenlyrememberedtherosesinher
hands.“Um…theseareforyou,MrsTravers.”Andshepassedthebouquettoa
nowstunnedAura.“HappyValentines’.”Andwishingthembothgoodnight,she
leftthesuite.
“Nathan…”Auraturnedtohimwithadazedshakeofherhead.“What…?”
12
Withoutaword,Nathantooktherosebouquetfromheranddepositeditonthe
sidetable.Thenhegatheredherintohisarmsandcapturedhermouthinakisslike
he’dbeenstarvedofher.Gasping,Aurameltedagainsthim,windingherarms
aroundhisneckandholdinghimtoherashardasheheldher,givinghim
everything.Thesolidnessofhisbodyagainsthersatoncewipedawaythe
uncertaintyofthesedays.Andwhenhefinallyraisedhishead,shearchedtowards
himwithasoftwhimper,strainingtofeelhislipsoncemore.
Hefeatheredakissonherlips.“HappyValentine’s,baby,”hemurmured.
“Nathan…”Shestrokedhisdarkstubble-roughenedjawashersensesslowly
returned.“What’sgoingon?”
Hislipsquirkedinasexyhalf-smile.“Iwassupposedtocomegetyoufrom
yourhotel,butyoujusthadtochasemedownhere,didn’tyou?”
“YouknewIwasfollowingyouinthecar?”
“Ididn’tknowyouwerehereuntilthefrontdeskcalledtocheckyouweremy
wife.”
“Theycalledyou…”Aurasteppedoutofhisembrace.“Ithoughttheywere
callingMaria.Butofcoursetheywouldcallyou.”
“AndifI’dknownyou’dpullaJamesBondandchasemealloverMilan,I’d
havetakenyouovermyshoulderattheawardsceremonyitselfandbroughtyou
backhere.”
Aurafrownedathim.“Takenmeoveryourshoulder?Butyouwalkedouton
meyesterday.Andyouwouldn’tanswermycalls.SowhenIhappenedtoseeyou
andfollowedyouhere,I’mtheonewhodidsomethingwrong?”
Hescrubbedahandthroughhisdarkhair,hisfrownmatchinghers.“That’sno
bloodyreasontobespeedingthroughMilan.”
“Iwasn’tspeeding.Anddon’tyouturnthisonme.Whatareyoudoinghere
anyway?Yousaidweneededabreak.”
“Abreakfromfighting.”Hisgrinturnedherhearttoslush,butsheyankedit
together.Hewasn’tcharmingherthateasy.Nathancaughtherbythearmsand
tuggedhertohim.“Icouldn’tbewithoutyou.Itried.Butbyevening,Icracked,
lefteverythingwithMaria,andflewouthere.”
Auraspreadherhandsagainsthishardchest,lettingthewarmthofhisskin
seepintoherfingertips.“Youcanbesostubborn,”shemurmured.Thenhergaze
dropped.“AndI’msorry.”Shelookedbackathim,hereyesearnest.“Ididn’tmean
whatIsaidaboutnotneedingyou.Iwas…angry.”
“Iknow.”Hestrokedhisthumbacrossherlips.“AndI’mtakingyoutoNew
York.”
Shegavehimasternlook.“Youcancelledmyplaneticket,didn’tyou?”
“Youdon’tneedit.You’recomingwithme.”
“That’sjustgreat.AndwhileIwasrunningaroundincircles,notknowingwhat
wasgoingon,youwereskippingaroundMilanwithagorgeousblonde.”
“Jenny?”heaskedwithagrin.“She’sfrommyLondonoffice.Ineedan
assistantifI’mtoworkfromNewYorkforafewdays.Andyouknowhellwill
freezeoverbeforeMariawillleaveLondonandflyaroundtheworldwithme.”
Herindignationweakened.Butdammit!Hecouldn’tgetoffthehookjustlike
that.Andshefrowned“Youwereatthe—”
Hestoppedherwithatenderkiss.“…Theawardsceremony?”Thesmilehe
gaveherwaspuresin.“Iwas.”
Auraclungtoherexasperation.“Whydidn’tyoucometomethen?Iwanted
youwithme.”
“Afterthefightwehad?”Heslippedhisfingersbeneaththeshoulderstrapsof
herreddressandflickedthemoffherarms.
Withatinygasp,sheclaspedherhandstothebodicetostopthedressfrom
falling,buthegentlysweptherhandsaside.Thedresspooledatherfeetinapuddle
ofsoftwool.
“Ithoughtitbesttogiveyouspace.”Hissilvergazetookinherrisingand
fallingbreastsintheircreamlacebra.Asmiletouchedhislips.“Youseemedina
hurrytogomeetpeople,”hemurmuredabsentmindedly.
“Iwaslookingforyou!”shesaid,keepingherangeronboilwithsuperhuman
effort.“Isawyoubythepillar,andthenyouweregone.”
“Iwasthere…waiting.”Heclaspedherwaistandbenttokissherrounded
breasts.
Asoftmoanescapedher.Andclosinghereyes,sheburiedherfingersinhis
darkhairandpressedclosertohim.
Suddenlyhereachedbehindherbackandflickedopenherbraclasp.
“Nathan…”shetriedtograbtheflimsylace,buthehaditoffinseconds.Her
heavybreastsstoodpertandachingforhim.
Hecuppedoneandgentlykneadeditsfullness.“ThisI’vemissed,”he
muttered,anddippinghishead,hecaughtthehardenednippleinhismouthand
sucked.
Shecriedout,desperateformoreofhistouch,hiscaress.Hercoreclenched,
anddesirepooledbetweenherlegsalmostsoakingherpanties.Hecuppedher
otherbreastandcatchingthestrainingnipple,suckedharder.
“Nathan…please,”shebegged,notknowingexactlywhatshewanted,only
knowingsheneededhimburieddeepinsideher,everylongthickinchofhim.
Releasinghersensitivenipple,henippedthesideofherbreastandthen
reacheddowntohookhisfingersinthewaistbandofherlacepanties.
Aurasnappedbacktohersensesandcaughthishands.“No…Wait…”she
gasped.“You’retryingtodistractme.”
Helaughed.“AmI?”
13
Aurawriggledinhishold,buthehunkereddownandpulledoffherpanties
anyway.“Beautifuldistractionthough,”hemurmured,andwithalowgroanburied
hisfaceagainstthemoundofhersex.Histongueflickedthetipofherclit,andshe
doubledoveronagaspandgraspedhisbroadshoulders.
Heslippedafingerbetweenherslickfolds.“Soreadyforme,baby.”
“But…butyouhaven’tsaidwhyyou…”hervoicefadedonamoanashe
easedafingerintoher,thenanother,andpumped.
Hisfingersstretchedher,makingherwetterandevenmorereadyforthereal
thicknessofhim.Herbreathescapedingasps,andsheclungtohisshoulders,her
handsclutchinghissoftrobe.
“GivemewhatIwant,Aura,”hesaid,hisvoiceroughwithneed.“AndI’llgive
youwhatyouwant.”
Whatshewanted?OhGod,thiswasexactlywhatshewanted.
ShemusthavewhimperedhersurrenderbecauseNathaneasedhisfingersfrom
herandpressedaquickkisstoherstomach.Thenuntyingthesashofhisblack
robe,heletitfalltothefloor.Hestood,magnificentinhisrawmuscularnakedness,
aperfectmale,andoneshecouldn’tdraghergazefromevenafterfouryears
together.Histhickshaftstrained,readyforher,sendinghotbloodracingthrough
her.
“Youdidn’tthinkI’dmissourValentine’stogether,didyou?”heasked.And
sweepingakissoverherlips,heliftedherhighinhisarms.Herredheelsdropped
tothefloorontopofherdress.
“I’mgladyoudidn’t,”shewhisperedagainsthismouth.
Heturnedwithhertowardstheen-suite,andtherosebouquetonthesidetable
caughthereye.Therebehindtheflowersstoodher‘DesigneroftheYear’statuette
withitscrystalglobeglitteringinthebedroom’ssoftlight.
“Youbroughtmyaward,”shesaid,wrappingherarmsaroundhisneck.
Heshrugged.“Couldn’tleaveitbehind.Itshouldbewhereyouare.”
Auragaveasadshakeofherhead.“Nathan,youshouldhavestayedatthe
function.Iwantedyouthere.”
“Iwasthere,baby.Ijustwasn’tsureitwasmeyouwanted.”
“What—”Hislipsonherscutheroff,andwhenheraisedhishead,thebeauty
ofthesoftlyliten-suiteleftAuraspeechless.
Centrestagewasawidemarblebathtubbubblingwithrose-scentedwater.Red
rosepetalssurroundeditalongwithsmallglimmeringcandlesinprettyglass
containers.
“Likeit?”Nathanaskedwithagrin.
Auralaughed.He’dtickedalltheValentine’scheckboxes.“Iloveit!But…you
didallthisforme?”
“Whoelse?”Heplacedherdownonthemarblefloorandclaspedhertohim.
“WhoelsewouldIspendtonightwith?”
Whoelseindeed?Shepressedagainsthimwithasmallsmile,herheartbeating
outofherchestwithloveforhim.
“Comeon.”Nathansteppedintothebathtubandheldhishandouttoher.
Takingit,Aurafollowed.
Water,justhotenoughtomakeherskinsitupandtakenotice,bubbledina
gentlerollingmassagearoundherlegs.Thefragranceofrosewasstrongernowasit
climbedinthesteamandsurroundedherlikeaninvisibleflowercloud.
Nathansankintothewater,pullingherdownwithhim.Wetwarmthrolled
overherthighs,herstomach,thentouchedherbreastswhenheeasedherback
againsthim.Shenestledintohishold,lovingthewashofwateroverherskin,the
solidnessofhimbehindher,andthefirmsqueezeandreleaseofhishandsashe
playedwithherbreasts.
“Whatdidyoumean…”sheasked,“…whenyousaidyouweren’tsureitwas
youIwanted?”
Hishandcurvedoveronebreast,andhetweakedthepebblednipplebetween
thumbandforefinger.“That’sinthepast,”hemurmuredinherear.
“Nathan…tellme.”
“Spreadyourlegs.”Andhenudgedherfeetapartwithhisfoot,atthesame
timeshiftingherupsoshewassittingonhim.
Auragaspedashisrigidshaftstrokedoverherfolds,andrunningherhand
overhisthicklength,shepartedherlegsforhim.
Atorturedgroanrumbledinhischest.Hetweakedhernippleagainandslidhis
handdownherstomachtofindherclit.Shejumpedwhenhereachedhisprizeand
flicked.
“You’llcomehardforme,baby,”hesaidsoftly.“AndI’llenjoyeverysecondof
it.”Andhisfingersworkedupastormonhersensitizednubwhilehisotherhand
squeezedfirstoneachingbreastthentheother.
Thebubblingwaterrolledoverherexposedsexlikeheatwaves,butitcouldn’t
matchtheragingtempestgrowinginsideher.Shegrippedhisshaftassparks
gatheredinhercorefromhisfingersonher.Herclimaxknottedinatighterand
tighterball,robbingherofbreath,andthensuddenlyburst.Auracriedoutas
electricpleasureshotthroughherineverydirection,leavingherjudderingand
shakinginhisarms.
“Hell!”Nathangrowled.Andflippingherbackagainstthetubwall,hegrasped
herthighsandcrowdedbetweenherlegs.Thetipofhisshaftstrokedherfolds
beneaththewaterasshelaybonelessandbreathless.“I’vecravedyouallday,”he
said,andcapturinghermouthinaroughkiss,heplungedhislengthintoher
waitingchannel.
Auratorehermouthfromhisonagaspashefilledher,stretchedher.Itwas
suchsweetrelief,andwrappingherarmsandlegsaroundhim,shepulledhiminto
hertothehilt.
Nathanclampedhertohimandthrust.Againandagain.Pullingoutand
poundingbackin.Fasterandfaster.Thewatersloshedandbubbledaroundthem,
andherbodyjoltedwithhisforce.Hismouthfoundthesoftskinofherneckand
sucked,andhishandclaimedthefullnessofonebreastandsqueezed.Auraspread
herlegswider,needingmoreofhim,hisstrength,hisroughness,hispassion.
Henippedherearlobe.“Comeagainforme,baby.”Andslippinghisfingers
overherclit,hetweaked.
Coreclenchingboltsshotthroughher,andshearchedagainsthim,herfingers
diggingintohiswarmback.
Hemovedthen,andhiseverythrustthrobbedhardagainstherclit.Theintense
pullofherclimaxbuilt.Anotherthrust,thenanother,andherorgasmmountedin
relentlesswaves.Withagruntheslammedintoher,andcryingout,sheshookand
shattered,herchannelclenchingandunclenchingaroundhislength.Nathan
capturedhermouthinafiercekissandpoundedintoher.Thenonafinalragged
groan,hispowerfulbodyshook,andhisshaftburieddeepinsideherpulsedand
emptied.
Auradidn’tknowhowlongtheylayinthewater,eyesclosed,armswrapped
aroundeachotherastheyfloateddownfromecstasy.ButeventuallyNathan
moved,withdrawingfromherandthencoveringhermouthwithhisinasweetkiss.
Heraisedhisheadandcuppedhercheek.“Youcameheretome.Thatmeansa
lot.”
“WhywouldyouthinkIwouldn’tcometoyou?”sheaskedwithasmallfrown.
Hekissedherlips,andthenmovingbehindher,wrappedhisarmsaroundher
again.“YouweretalkingtothatFiorelliguyatthefunction,”hesaidquietly.“I
thoughtyou’dprefertogowithhim.”
Aurabitherlip.Thefaintuncertaintyinhisvoicewasheartbreaking.Shewas
sousedtoNathanasheusuallywas:strong,stubborn,andintense.Shesometimes
forgotthesmallvulnerablepartofhisheartthatwastheexactshapeofher.
“That’swhyyouleft,isn’tit?”sheasked.
Hesaidnothing.
Shelookedbackathimandlovinglytracedherfingeroverhislips.“Idon’t
wanttobewithanyonebutyou.”
Hecaughtherhandandkissedherfingertip.“Andyouwon’tbegoingtoNew
Yorkwithanyonebutme.”
“AboutNewYork…I’mnotgoing.”
“Why?”heaskedwithafrown.
Aurapaused,butitwaslikeafoghadclearedandtheworldhadsnappedinto
sharpfocus.“Iwanttogomyownway,createmyownjoy.”Shesmiledathim.“I
don’tneedtodowhateveryoneelsedoes.AndIdon’tneedtojoinforceswith
anyone.I’mstrongenoughtoletmydreamscomealive.”
“Ineverdoubtedthat,but…”Nathancaughtherchinandtiltedherfacetohis.
“IsthisbecauseofwhatIsaidyesterday?Idon’twantyoutomakethischoiceout
ofguilt.”
Sheshookherhead.“Notguilt.IjustknowsoclearlywhatIwant.Andpartof
thatishavingthefreedomtodesign,andtheotherpartishavingthefreedomtobe
withyouandourbabies.That’smyperfectlife.”
Hestudiedherforalongmoment,hissilvergazesearchinghers.“Iwantyou
closetoo,”hesaidfinally.“That’smyperfectlife.ButI’llalwayssupportyou,
whateveryouchoose.”
“Iknow.”Shekissedhislips.“It’sanotherreasonIloveyou.”
Withagrin,hepulledherclose.“Saythatagain.”
“Iloveyou.”
“Again…”
Auragiggled.“Nomore.Yourhead’sbigenoughasitis.”Andwithahappy
sigh,shesnuggledbackagainsthim.“Mumtoldmeaboutyourplansforthe
weekend.”
“Shefoundout?”heaskedwithalaugh.“IthoughtI’dkeptitasurprise.
RememberhowAlexalovedthatshellnecklaceAndyandJasmineboughther?I
thoughtshemightliketovisittheseasideandcollectshellsofherown.She’snever
seenthesea.SoIbookedaweekendcottagethereforthefourofus.”
“That’swonderful!”Aurasaid.“But…youweregoingtocometoNewYork
withme.Soyoucancelledthecottage,didn’tyou?”
“Idid.”Hegatheredhercloseinthewarmwater.“Butsincewe’renow
spendingtheweekendwiththekiddos,Icangetthecottagebackifyoulikethe
soundofit.”
“Iloveit!EvenachillyFebruaryweekendbytheseasoundsfantastic.”
Nathanshrugged.“Wecanwrapupwarm.”
“Mmm…Thiscottageofyours,doesithaveafireplace?”
“Suredoes,”hesaidwithachuckle.“Bigandblazing,withenoughspaceto
hangapotofstew.”
“Wow,fire-topstewwithtoastedmarshmallowsafterwards.”Auraclosedher
eyesanddreamed.
“Andasoftsheepskinrugforyoutogetcomfortableon,”Nathanmurmured,
hiswarmbreathfanninghercheek.
“Perfecttocozyupwithhotchocolate.”
“Andafterthat?”Hekissedherjaw.
Sheturnedandflickedthetipofhertongueoverhislips.“Afterthat,our
kiddosgotobed,andyouandIhaveasheepskinruginfrontofaromanticfireall
toourselves.”
Hegrinned.“Andthat’sanotherreasonIloveyou,baby.”Andhecaughther
mouthinatenderkiss.
❦
Visitalyssialeon.comtoreadchaptersfromallmybooks.
Turnthepageforbonuscontentandmore.
ANoteFromAlyssia
AyearafterIpublished‘BeMine’,Iwantedtogivemynewslettersubscribers
somethingspecial.AndsinceIwasfeelingnostalgic,revisitingAuraandNathan’s
lovestoryseemedlikeareallyfunthingtodo.
TheideawastocatchuponAuraandNathanfouryearsaftertheirmarriage.I
wantedtowriteabouttheirValentine’sDayinMilan,Italy,andtherollercoaster
eventsofthatday.
However,theoriginalplannedepiloguedidn’tstayasamereepilogue.Itturned
intoafifteen-thousand-wordnovellawithplentyofupsanddownsonthejourney
toaverypassionatehappyeverafter.
MyinspirationforwritingthestorycamefrommyimageofAura.Shedidn’t
seemhappytoloseheruniquecreativetalentandfreedomtothecorporateworld
offashion.Shesowantedtorediscoverthepassionanddreamshe’dheldin
Langley.AndI’mdelightedforherthatshedid.
Nowattheend,Ican’timagineanythingpartingAuraandNathan.They
remain,forme,completelyandtrulymadeforeachother.
IfyoulikedAuraandNathan’slovestory,don’tforgettocheckout‘Love
Express’thenextbookinmy’SecondChanceSeries’.It’sanotherstandalone
contemporaryromance,andthistimesetonaluxuryvintagetrainsprinkledwith
themagicofChristmas.
Turnthepagetofindoutmore.
LondonBillionairesBook2
HeartbrokenMoiraStanleyisdesperateforanewbeginningatChristmas.Butbillionaire
DarrenTatehasotherideas.She’sstuckwithhimaboardaluxurytrainspeedingtoVenice.With
theoddsstackedagainsther,canMoiraresistfallingforDarren’sseductivegameofrevenge
beforeit’stoolate?
Turnthepagetoreadchapters.
1
“Thebread’sabitstale,butyoudon’tmind,doyou?”MoiraStanleyaskedsoftly.
“Justnibblearoundthefunkyspotsontheedge.That’swhatIdo.”
Theratdidn’tanswer.Itgobbledupthechunkofwhitebreadwithallthegusto
ofeatingtheworld’smostluxuriousChristmascake.Andonlytheoccasional
muffledsqueaktelegrapheditsdelight.
Moiraslowlyreacheddown,pickedupherPradakittenheels,andplacedthem
besideherontopofthebed.
Justincase.
Rats,cockroaches,spiders.She’dseenplentyovertheyearsofcleaningother
people’shomes,butshestilllikedtokeepahealthydistance.
“Iwon’thaveanybreadforyoutomorrow,”shecontinuedinaquietvoiceso
asnottoscarethelittlegreyrataway.Shelookedatthehandfulofpoundnotes
andcoinslaidoutbeforeheronthetattybedcover.“Actually,Iwon’thaveany
breadformeeither.”
Fourdaysagoshe’dbeenworthbillions.
Todayshewaswortheightypoundsandthirtypenceexactly.
She’devenlefthercreditcardsbehind.No,nothercreditcards.Hiscredit
cards.
Pickingupthefourtwenty-poundnotes,shesetthemaside.“Well,thatcovers
theroomfortodayandtomorrow.Whichleavesus…”sheswipedthecoinsintoa
pile,“…thirtypence.Yay!”
Sherubbedawearyhandacrossherface.Thirtypencemighthaveboughthera
bottleofwateranywhereelseinEngland,butinLondon,she’dbeluckyifitbought
herabottlecap.
“Andweneedtomakeitstretchtobreakfast,lunch,anddinnerforGodknows
howlong,”shemurmuredtothebusilychompingrat.“Thatagencybettergetback
quickwithajob,oraftertomorrowit’llbearoofless,foodless,MerryChristmas.”
Theratateon.
“Youdon’tcare,doyou?”shemuttered.
Thelastofherbread,whichshe’dturnedintoaketchupsandwich,wasquietly
dissolvingintosoggymushonthebedsidetable.She’dboughtthepackofwhite
breadandthesmallbottleofketchupdaysagowhentheworstofthehungerpangs
hadstruck.Cheapfoodthathadquietenedherstomachbuttastedliketartpaper
mache.Theratlovedtheoozybreadthough.Itcouldn’tgetenoughofthestuff
aftershe’dcoaxeditoutofitsholeinthewallthreedaysago.
“Wehavelunch…”Moiraeyedthestalemushysandwichhalf-heartedly.“ButI
understandifyoudon’twanttoshare.Afewmissedmealsmightdomegood
anyway,”shemuttered,tappinghercurvyhip.Butthenshefrowned.“Idon’tgetit.
There’stonsofcleaningworkaroundChristmastime,whatwiththepartiesgoing
on.Buttheagencykeepssayingthey’vegotnothingforme.”
Theratsnuffledaboutandmunched,oblivioustoherplight.
Moirasighed.“Ithinktheywantmetostoppesteringthemandtake
Alessandro’soffer.”
Problemwas,Alessandro’sofferwasnolongeraboutthejob.Itwasnowabout
her.
Shemovedthecoinsaboutindistractedlittlecircles.She’ddrownedintears
herfirstdayhere,butnoonehadcometodryhertears.Thepainfultruthhad
facedherthatwithoutapayingjobshewouldn’tsurvive.Andshewasdetermined
tosurvive.Soshe’dgrittedherteethandreturnedtotheworkshe’dknownbefore
hermarriage.Housekeeping.
Theagencyshe’dcalledforajobhadgivenherdetailstoabusinessman
desperateforahousekeeper.He’dturnedouttobeItalianandmorethanshe’d
bargainedfor.
ShepickedupherphonefromthebedsidetableandflickedtoAlessandro’s
photothathe’dsenther.“Waytoodark,handsome,andsexyforhisowngood.”
Shesmirkedattherat.“Sorrytosayit,you’recuteandall,butyou’vealongwayto
gobeforeyou’llcompeteatthislevel.”
Theratscurriedinsmallcircles,searchingforthelastcrumbs.Andfinding
none,ittwitcheditspinknoseintheairandheadedforitsholenearby.Moira
reachedovertohersandwichandtearingoffanothersoggychunk,threwitnearthe
rat.Itjumpedonthebreadandsettleddowntoanewfeast.
Moirasettledbackagainstherpillow.“IthinkAlessandrolikesme.You
know…likeamanwould.Butwhyme?Hecouldhaveanywomanhewants.”
She’dsentAlessandroaphotoofherselfwhenhe’dinsisted.Shewasgood-
lookingtoanextent,butherplainbrownhair,prettyishfeaturesandordinaryblue
eyeswereunlikelytostunamanasstrikingashim.
“Buthe’skind.Healwaysknowswhattosay…ortext.”Shewaggledthe
phoneintherat’sdirection.“Takenotes.Hecaresandknowshowtoshowit.
That’showyoureachawoman’sheart,notbyscoffinghersandwichwithouteven
a‘thankyou’.”
AndshereturnedtostudyingAlessandro’sphoto.
Hisfirsttextsthreedaysagohadbeenimpersonal,moreofaninterview.He
workedatahotelandsaidhewasalwaysonthejob,soheneededanaffordable
housekeepertokeephishome.She’dansweredhisquestionsasbestshecould.But
heranswershadintriguedhim,andhistextshadcomemoreoften,becoming
sweeter,wantingtoknowmoreabouther.Andshe’dendeduptellinghim
everything,rightdowntothesorrybreakupofhermarriage.
Nowhewantedher,andnotjustashishousekeeper.
Theratscrabbledaboutonthewoodenfloorboards,hooveringup
breadcrumbs.
“You’reright.Ineedthejobandaplacetostay,”Moirasaid.“Butalso…It’s
Christmas,andtruthis…Idon’twanttobealone.”Shepaused.“AlessandrosaidI
wouldn’tbeifI’mwithhim.But…I’mnotsureI’mready…”Shesatbackwitha
wearysighandregardedthebusyrat.“Atleastyou’reagoodlistener.Thanksfor
beingherewithme.”
Aheavythumplandedonherroomdoor.
Moiradroppedthephoneandsatboltupright,herheartbeatingafrantictattoo
inherchest.Theratgaveaterrifiedsqueakanddisappearedintoitshole.
“Becareful,youdork!”Aman’slaughingvoicesaidrightoutsidethedoor.
Asecondmanguffawed.“Wasn’tmyfault!Youcan’ttellyourrightfootfrom
yourleft.”
Moirabreathedout.
Students.
Thishostelwasfullofthem,alllookingforthecheapestplacetostayin
London.
“HeyDave,betyouwokeupwhoever’sinthere,”thesecondmancontinued.
“Nah,it’spastnoon.Thereain’tnooneinthere.Watchthis…”Davecleared
histhroatandrappedonherdoor.“PizzaDelivery,”hehollered.
Moirarolledhereyesbutstayedonthebed.
Thetwooutsidesnortedandgiggledlikethey’dplayedthejokeofthecentury.
“Comeon,man.Let’sgetoutofhere,”Davesaid.
Andtheyscamperedaway.
ItwasFridaylunchtime,andthingswouldn’tgetanybettertowardsthe
evening.Ahostelfullofdrunkandrowdystudentswouldn’texactlybeheaven.
LonelinesswashedoverMoira,andshestaredatthetinyroomwithitsbare
walls,sparsefurniture,andonesquarewindow.Overthepastfourdaysithad
becomeherhome.Herprison.
Sheclosedhereyes.Atleastshehadachoicenow.Shedidn’thavetolivelike
this.ButwasgoingtoAlessandrotherightthingtodo?
Thephonebuzzed,andMoira’seyesflewopen.
‘Timetocometome.’Alessandro’stextflashedonscreen.
Herstomachclenched.Herchoicewasbeingmadeforher.
‘Lookoutside.’
Andpickingupthephone,shegotoffthebedandheadedtothewindow.A
loneblacktaxiwaitedoutsidethehostelentrance.
‘Isthattaxiforme?’shetyped.
Itshouldn’tsurpriseher.Inthethreedaysthey’dbeentexting,she’dlearnedhe
wasforcefulwhenhewantedtobe.
‘It’lltakeyoutotheairport.YourticketsarebookedforParis.’
Moirasteppedbackfromthewindow.‘YouknowI’dlikethejob,Alessandro,
but…’
‘But…youdon’ttrustme.’
‘I’mnotsurethisisagoodidea.’
‘Don’tyoutrustme,tesoromio?’
Mydarling.Thetypedendearmenthenowusedforherworedownher
resistance.
‘Ido…’Shehesitated.
Hemusthavesensedherhesitation.‘Don’tbescared.Youknowme.’
Well,sheknewhiskindwords…
‘Arewerushingthis?’Shesneakedalookoutthewindowagain.Thetaxiwas
stilloutside.
‘Whatifyourhusbandfindsyou?’
‘Heisn’tlookingforme.He’stoobusybeddinghismistress.’
Apause.‘He’sarichmanandaproudone,isn’the?He’llwantyouback.’
‘Whywouldhecomeafterme?He’stheonewhocheated.’Butthenrealization
dawned.‘Youmeanforrevenge.’
Anotherpause.‘Mayberevenge.’
Moirashookherhead.‘Buthewasnevercruellikethatwhenweweremarried,just
distant.’
Butuncertaintygrippedher.Herhusbandhadaruthlessstreak.He’dwieldedit
inbusiness,playinghisopponentstotheirkneesforhisadvantage.Wouldhenow
wielditagainsther?
Alessandro’stexthadherstaring.‘Yousteppedonhispridebywalkingoutonhim.
Mendon’teasilyforgetacrushedego.Doyoustillwanttostaywherehecouldfindyou?’
‘Inevermeantthatmuchtohim.Hewouldn’twastehistimeonme.’
‘Butyou’vemadehimalaughingstock.Willheforgivethat?’
Moira’sbreathcaught.Thehigh-classcirclesthey’dmovedinwerevenomous,
andherhusbandwouldn’tappreciatebeingmadeafoolinfrontofthem.Whatif
hetriedtomakehersufferforthat?Thefactthatshe’dlovedhimwithallherheart
wouldn’tsaveher.
‘You’renotalone,tesoro.’
Sheglancedattheholetherathaddisappearedinto.Gone.Leavingheralone
oncemore.
MaybeitwasablessingAlessandrohadfoundher.
‘Cometome,Moira.’
2
‘It’sokay.I’mwaitingforyou.’
Moira’suneaseebbedalittle,andshesmiledatherphone.Alessandro’swords
reachedoutandcaressedher,holdinghercloseinaforeignland.
Sheglancedaround.TheParistrainstationheavedwithbodiesandnoiseona
Fridayevening.ThejingleofChristmascarolsoverthespeakersmingledwiththe
chatterofpeopleastheyrushedhomefromwork.TomorrowwasChristmasEve,
andexcitementhungthickintheairlikefog.
Excitementgrippedhertoo,nervousexcitement,likesteppingoffahighdiving
boardforthefirsttime.Butshecouldn’tturnbacknow.Onlyheartbreakandsoul-
crushinglonelinesswaitedbackinEngland.
Shehadtoseethisthrough.
‘I’mjustadayaway,’shetypedbeforeshecouldchangehermind.
Agroupofbusinessmenhurriedpast,forcinghertosidestepthem.Sheedged
closertotheelectronicdisplayboard.TheVenice-boundRoyalExpresswasdueto
leaveplatformteninlessthanfifteenminutes.
Platformten.Sheslippedherphonebackintothepocketofherredwoolcoat
andlookedaround,unsurewhomtoask.Differentuniformsscurriedabout,and
anyoneofthemmighthelp.ButherFrenchlikeherItalianworkedonguesswork,
anditwouldtaketoolongtomakeherselfunderstood.Shewasalreadyrunningout
oftime.
Withalastglanceupattheboard,shetookastepbackandcollidedwitha
metalluggagetrolleyatleastafoottallerthanherfivefootfive.Themetaljangled
againsther,sendingherstaggeringbackwardsintoapairofstrongmalehands.
“Pardon,Mademoiselle!C’estmafaute,”theanxious-lookingportersaid,
steadyingher.
Moiraquicklystraightened.“Pleasedon’tworry,”shesaid,flusteredbutgiving
himareassuringsmile.SherightedherredcoatoverherChaneljacketandcurve-
huggingpencilskirt.“Myfaultentirely.Ishouldhavelooked.”
Hereturnedhersmile,andwhiteteethflashedagainstdarkskininakindyoung
face.Parissuddenlyseemedlessintimidating.
“Couldyoushowmetoplatformten?Um…s’ilvousplait?”
“Ten…dix?”Hepointedupattheelectronicboard.“YougoonL’Express
Royal?”
“Yes.”Shenoddedenthusiastically,ridiculouslygratefulthathespokeEnglish.
“Thenfollow.Thetrain,itleavessoon,non?Wewillhurry.”
“Ohgosh,yes.Idon’twanttomissit.”Andgrabbinghersmalltravelcase,she
rushedafterhim.
Heobviouslyknewthisstationlikethebackofhishand,becauseheweaveda
quickpaththroughthecrowds,allthewhilehandlingtheloadedrattlingtrolleylike
itwasonwingsratherthanclacketywheels.AndbeforeMoiraknewit,shewas
standingonplatformtenwithherfranticbreathcomingoutincoldwinterypuffs,
andthemajesticbluecarriagesoftheRoyalExpressstretchedoutbeforeher.
“Thankyou!”shecalledaftertheporteraswithagrinandawavehepushed
theluggagetrolleyaway.
Andsheturnedbacktothetrainwhereblue-cappedanduniformedcrewwere
greetingtheboardingpassengerswithsmilesandpleasantwelcomes.
Moira’snervescrampedagain.God,wasshedoingtherightthing?
Hermotherwouldhavefreakedhadshestillbeenalive.Whichsanepersonran
offtoVenicetobewithamanthey’dstartedtextingthreedaysago?
Anotherannouncementsoundedoverthestation’spublic-addresssystem,
pausingtheChristmascarols.AndMoirapulledherselftogether.Shewasherenow.
Nomorefear.
Timetothrowallcautiontothewinterwindandletanewlifetakeher.And
tighteninghergriponhertravelcase,shesteppedforwardintohernewstart.
***
“Damnthing!”DarrenTatetuggedopenthebowtie’suselessknotandyankedthe
stripofblacksilkfromaroundhisshirtcollar.
HewasaTate,headofamultinationalbrewingcompanywhosebeerskings
andpresidentsdrank,andhecouldn’tevenknotasimplebowtie.
Buthe’dneverhadtobotherwithsuchmundanetasksbefore.He’dgrownup
inahouseholdburstingwithservants.Damnsurehe’dhadoneforeachshoeand
oneforeachpairofsocks.Facelesspeoplewho’dcomebutthenrunawaywith
startlingspeedoncetheyfeltthefullfuryofthetyranttheyworkedfor.
Thathadbeenhisfather.Themanhadplayed‘LordoftheManor’tothehilt,
eventhoughhisancestorshadbeenpennilessrefugeesfromEurope.Hisfather
hadn’tbeenakindmaster,nottohisservants,orhismeekwife,orevenhisonly
son.
Darrengrimaced.Everythingandeveryonearoundhisfatherhadhaditsplace,
andGodhelpthebravesoulwho’doversteppedthoseinvisibleboundaries.
Still,evensucharegimentedchildhoodhadhaditsupside.Therehadalways
beenaservantonhandtodoeverythingforDarren,exceptknothisbowties.Bow
tieshadbeenhissweetmother’sspeciality.
“Itmakesyoulooksosmart,”she’dsaywithhersoftsmileasshetieditaround
hisboyishcollar.“Myhandsomelad.”
Herubbedthefinesilkbetweenfingerandthumb.Maybethat’swhyhestill
worethewretchedthing.Itkepthismotherclose,theonesoftspotinhislife.
She’dknottedhisbowtiesforhimuntilherdeath.Thenafewmonthsagothetask
hadfallentoanotherwoman.
Hedroppedtheblacksilkontothewhitemarblevanityandstaredintothetiny
bathroom’seventiniermirror.
He’dinheritedhisfather’saristocraticlooks,includingthecoldturnof
countenanceandsetofjawthatradiatedcommand.Andthatsameself-assured
commandhadlethimwalkunchallengedintohisfather’spositionasheadofthe
companyatjusttwenty-eightyearsofagewhentheoldmandiedlastyear.
Hestudiedhisreflection.Lookingathimnow,noonewouldguesshis
marriagehadjustbrokendown.
Withanirritatedgrunt,hestrodefromthebathroomcubicletothewindow
seatwherehisonlycaselayopen.Ifeverythingwenttoplan,thisovernighttrip
wouldseehiminVenicetomorrowandinhiswoman’sarmsandbedforthewhole
ofChristmasweekend.
Hereachedoverthecaseandslidthewindowopen,lettinginthenoisybustle
ofthestationalongwiththesharpwinterair.Itsmelledofdieselfumes,butthat
beatthecloyinglysweetfloralscenttheyinsistedonpumpingintothecabins.At
leastthey’dheldbackfrompumpingthoseinfernalChristmascarolsaroundthe
cabinstoo.
Hesatdownandpushedpastthehaphazardlyfoldedclothesinthecaseuntil
hecametothesilk-wrappedbundlehe’dhiddenatthebottom.
Normallyhehadhisassistantshopforgifts,butthesewerespecialandnot
meantforanyone’seyesbuthis.Andheopenedtheivorysilkwraptoexposethe
delicateredlacewithin.
Ababydollsetcompletewithbarely-therethong.Heranahandoverthesoft
material,andtheimageofherlusciousbodyfillingthesultrylacehadhim
hardeningrightthere.She’dwearitlongenoughforhimtosee,thenhe’dripitoff
herandtakeherharderthanhe’devertakenherbefore.
Hell,heachedforher.
He’dwaitedtoolong.Evenonemorenightwastorture.
Openingtheredjeweller’sboxnestledbesidethelace,hetookoutthe
sparklingdiamondringinside.Heshouldhaveputthisringonherfingerlongago.
He’dwrittenhisrestlesswordsofdesireonanotebesideit,butthisdiamond
wouldspeaklouderthananyscribbledwordsevercould.Andwhensheworethis
ring,shewouldknowshebelongedtohim.
Andplacingtheringbackinitsbox,hecoveredeverythingwiththesilkwrap
oncemore.Theendofhisbriefmarriagehadproventobeablessingindisguise.It
hadopenedhiseyestowhattrulymattered.Nowthewomanhecravedwasjusta
trainjourneyaway.
Impatienceroaredthroughhim,buthetampereditdown.Noneedtorush.
He’dplannedeverythingforthem.Untilnowhe’dlethisworkconsumehim,but
forher,he’dtakehistime.Theywoulduncovereachotherbitbybituntiltheir
heartsjoinedandbeatasone.
Butthisdamntrain…
Ithadn’tbeenhisidea.
Hiswifehadbookedthisvacationamonthago,butthatplanhadcollapsed
withhismarriage.Sowhatthehell.Whynotputthetickettobetteruse?
Onlytroublewas,theentiretrainanditscrewfanciedthemselvesas
throwbackstotheRoaringTwenties.Passengershadtodresstoimpressevento
haveadrinkinthedamnbarcar.HispositionasCEOcamewithenoughposturing
andpeacockingtolasthimalifetime,andhe’dhavehappilyspentthewholetripin
jeansandat-shirt.Buthehadtoblendin.Hewaskeepingalowprofileanddidn’t
wanttodrawattentiontohimself.Evenhisassistant,adraconianoldladyhe’d
inheritedfromhisfather,hadnoideaaboutthisweekendtripofhis.
Soneedsmust.Andgoingintothebathroomcubicle,hetookouthisbottleof
cologneandsplashedalittleonhimself.Thebowtielayforlornlyonthevanity,and
heignoredit.Therewasalimittothepainhewaswillingtotakeinhiseffortto
mergewiththelocals.Andheexitedthebathroomwiththetopbuttonofhiswhite
shirtleftrakishlyopen.
Heshruggedonhisdarkjacket,andslidingopenthepolishedwalnutdoorof
hisnowcoldcabin,steppedoutintothewarmcorridorbeyond.
***
Moirarummagedinthesidepocketofhertravelcaseandpulledoutthe
monogrammedblueenvelopethatheldherticket.
TheRoyalExpressoozedluxury,fromthestraightgoldlinesdecoratingthe
carriages,andthecolourfulcoatofarmspaintedontheplatformfloor,tothe
expensiveticketinherhand.
Inherordinarylife,she’dneverhaveaffordedtosetfootonthisplatform.But
she’dbeenlivingabillion-dollardreamlifeforafewmonthsnow.Andbeforethat
dreamendedatthestrokeofmidnight,shewantedtomakesureittookherallthe
waytoanewbeginning.
Hidinghernervousnessbehindalearnedconfidenceofwealth,she
straightenedhershouldersandapproachedthestewardwaitinginfrontofher
carriage.
“Bonjour,Madame,”hesaidcheerfully,hiseyescatchingtheflashofgoldon
herhand.“Itisjustyou?”
Hewasashortmiddle-agedmanwithdarkhairandeyesandanavuncular
smile.Andlikealltheothercrewmembers,everythingabouthimwasblueand
pristineandironedtowithinaninchofitslife,includinghishat.
Shehandedhimherticket.“Yes.Justme.And…”Shecurledherlefthandout
oftheway.“It’smademoiselle,notmadame.MademoiselleStanley.”
Heglancedattheticketandthenbackather.“Ah…”Andclearlychoosingnot
tosaymore,hebeamed.“YouareincabinG3,Mademoiselle.”Hetookhertravel
casefromherandstandingtooneside,gesturedforhertoenter.“Welcometothe
RoyalExpress.”
Stomachflutteringwithnerves,Moiraclimbedintothecarriage.
Thestewardhandedhercasetoher.“Youshallofcoursehaveanunforgettable
journey,Mademoiselle.”
3
Adelicatelily-of-the-valleyscentfilledtheemptycarriage.Moirainhaledin
appreciationandglancedaroundattheopulentdecorthattransportedherbacktoa
bygoneeraofflappersandjazz.
Thecarriage’sblue-carpetedcorridorstretchedoutbeforeher.Widewindows
linedoneside,andawallofpolishedwalnutcabindoorslinedtheother.
Lilieswereeverywhere.Eventhesmalllightsdottingtheceilingwereshaped
likelilieswiththeircreamglasspetalscurlingawayfromtheirglowingyellowbulbs.
Creamart-decoliliesswirledaroundthegoldnumbersetchedoneachcabindoor.
Thedoorbesideherwasnumbersix,whichmeanthercabinwasfurtheralongthe
carriage.
Shetracedafingeroveragoldswirl.Thisbeautifultraindidn’tjudgeorreject
her.Itssoftgrandeurwelcomedandsoothed.Andforthefirsttimeinwhatseemed
likealifetime,Moiradroppedherguardandrelaxed.
Noneofthisluxurywasnewtoher.Limousines,privatejets,she’dseenthem
all.Butshe’dbeenanimposterinthatrichworld.She’dbeenthelowlyhousekeeper
who’dbecomemistressofallshesurveyed.Ortodescribeitinthelanguageofthe
gossips:thelow-lifespongewho’dseducedherwayintothebigleagues.
“Ididn’tknowhe’dmarried!”Theolderladyinglitteringblackhadpressedher
manicuredhandtoherbosomandstaredatMoirainwide-eyedshock.
“Celine,wherehaveyoubeenthesepastdays?”Thepolishedbrunettehad
hissedatherwithanot-so-subtleheadtiltinMoira’sdirection.
“Oh…oh!”Celine’seyeswidenedinrealization.“Thehousekeeper,”shemouthed
tothebrunettewhonoddedsagely.
Moiragrittedherteeth.Thewaythesetwoweretalkingoverher,shecould
havebeenoneofthegreenpottedpalmsatthisexclusivebusinessfunction.“We
marriedlastweek,”shesaid,hertonesharpenoughtobringtheirsmirking
attentionbacktoher.
Celinelookedherupanddownasiftryingtoworkoutwhatcharmssomeone
likeMoirahadusedtosnagoneofthemosteligiblebachelorsinthecountry.
Moiraraisedherchinandstoodherground.Shemaynotbebornintomoney.
Shemaynotbeelegantandsophisticatedlikethesewomen,eveninherdesigner
dress.Butshewastheonehe’dchosen.
“Well,strangerthingshavehappened,”Celinesaidbrightly.“Andit’salljust
sextomen,isn’tit?”
Moirasuckedinasharpbreath.“Weloveeachother,”shesnapped.Butthe
wordsranghollowevenasshesaidthem.Sheloved,butdidhe?
Thebrunette’ssmilewaspitying.“It’llbeagreatride.Enjoyitforwhatitis
whileitlasts.”
“Andyou’llneverbepooragain,”Celinechirped.
Andwithbroadsmilestheysweptaway,whisperingandgigglingtoeachother.
Moirastoodstockstill,refusingtolethereyeswaterorherchinwobble.
Don’tbeweak.Notnow.Nothere.
Peopledrankandchattedinthedecoratedpartyhall.Thiswastheirworld,rich
andelegant.Andshedidn’tbelong.
Shelookedbutcouldn’tseehim.Theyhadn’tbeenheretenminuteswhenhe’d
receivedaphonecallandwalkedawayfromhertoanswerit.Business.Itwas
alwaysbusinesswithhim.Hisphonewasneverfaraway.
He’dleftheralone,andtheharpieshadimmediatelycircled,sensingprey.
Thelonelinessthathadbeenbuildingoverdayssqueezedherheart,andshe
couldn’tstopthetearsfromspillinganylonger.Turningherbackonthenoiseand
elegance,sheangrilydabbedhereyeswiththebackofherhandandhurried
towardsthebalconydoorsatoneendofthehall.
Damnit.Nowshelookedlikeamascara-dippedpandaaswellasalow-born
housekeeper.
Thedoorswerewideopen,andatallfamiliarfigurestoodonthebalconywith
hisbacktoher.Shehaltedinhersteps.Hisbroadshoulderswererelaxed,andhe
listenedtothephoneathisearwithhisblondheadtippeddowninthought.
Moiratookastepback.Heshouldn’tseeherlookinglikethis.
Buthemusthavesensedherbecauseheturned,andonseeingher,frowned.
Thensayingsomethingintothephone,helowereditandcametoher.
“Whathappened?”heasked,hisblueeyessearchingherface.
“Nothing!Ijustwantedsomefreshair.”
Hestudiedher,hiseyesnarrowing.“Thisisn’ttheplaceforyou,”hesaid
quietly.
AndMoira’sinsidesfroze.Whereelsewouldshebe?Shelovedhim.She
belongedwithhim.
“I’mfine.You…youdon’thavetoworryaboutme.”Sheglancedbackatthe
hallanditssnootyhordeandsteeledherself.“Icouldgobackandmingle.”
“Comewithme.”Andtakingherbytheelbow,hesteeredhertowardsthehall
entrance,atthesametimereturningthephonetohisearandresuminghis
conversationashewalked.
Cheeksburning,Moirascurriedalongbesidehiminherhighheelsashe
ploughedhiswaythroughcuriousonlookers.Onceoutsidethehall,heraisedhis
handandsignalledtotheuniformedmanageratthereceptiondesk.
“Findmychauffeur.Mywifeneedstoreturnhome,”hesaidasthemanager
rushedovertothem.
“Really,Idon’t…”Moiraprotested.
“You’llfeelbetter,”hesaid.“I’llseeyoubackathome.”Andreturninghis
attentiontohisphone,hestrodebackintothepartyhall.
“Ifyou’dcomewithme,ma’am?”Themanagerhadhoveredbyherside,but
Moirahadstoodstaringafterherhusband.
Herhusbandwho’dlefther,handedheroverlikeunwantedbaggagefor
someoneelsetodealwith.
He’dnevertakenheroutanywhereafterthat,probablyseenherastoomuchof
anembarrassment.Andthenherfallhadcome,andamorebeautifulspecimenhad
replacedher.Thegossipshadbeenprovenright.
Therehadbeennomercyforher.
Thephoneinhercoatpocketbuzzed,andheartjumpinginanticipation,shefished
itout.
‘Areyouaboard?’
Alessandro.Andtherapidbeatofherheartdimmedanotch.
Butwhoelsehadshebeenexpecting?
Theall-too-familiarimageofablondgodwitharrogantsky-blueeyesand
stunningchiselledfeaturesswepttomind.
Sheshookherhead.Whatonearthwasshethinking?
Alessandroshouldbefillinghermind,Italiananddark-hairedAlessandro,and
theonlypersonintheworldwhocaredenoughtocheckshewasokay.
‘Safeandaboard,’shetextedbackanddidn’thavetowaitlongforhisreply.
‘Good.Getcomfortable,tesoro.You’llbewithmesoon.’
Herstomachflutteredagain.TomorrowinVeniceshewouldmeetAlessandro.
“Henry!Thatwasatrocious.”Awoman’slaughingvoicehadMoiraturning
around.
Aslimelegantwomanwithshortiron-greycurlsstoodgrinningatthecheerful
stockymanclimbingintothecarriageafterher.
“What?”herumbled.“Howelsedoyouwishsomeone‘goodday’inFrench?”
“Bonnejournéenot‘bonjon’.”Thewomanshookherhead.“Butyouwon’t
remembernexttimeeither.”
Henrymadeaface.“Nexttime,Nell,I’llleaveyoutochatupthelocals.As
longasIcansay‘beer’inanylanguage,I’mgood.”
“Yougiveuptooeasily,”Nellsaidwithalaugh.ShegrinnedatMoira.“Areyou
travellingwithanyone?”
Moiraflushedathavingbeencaughtgawping.“I’mtravellingalone.”
Nellcameupandheldoutherhand.“I’mEleanor,butcallmeNell.Thisismy
husband,Henry.”
“Moira,”SheshookNell’shandandthenHenry’sbiggeronewhenheheldit
outtoherwithasmile.
“HaveyoutravelledontheRoyalExpressbefore?”Nellasked.
Moirashookherhead.
“You’reinforatreatthen.”NellpressedclosertoHenry,andheslungaloving
armoverhershoulders.“WecomebackeveryChristmas,”Nellcontinued.“Thisis
ourfifthtrip.We’vebeenspendingourweddinganniversariesinVenice.”
Moirasmiled.Theirclosenesswasendearing,andtheirloveobvious.“How
longhaveyoubeenmarried?”
“Toolong,”Henryintonedinthevoiceofdoom.
Nellelbowedhimintheside.“Thirty-fiveyears.”
“Congratulations,”Moirasaid.She’doncebelievedshe’dfoundloveasstrong
andeverlastingasthat.Butwhataliethathadturnedouttobe.
“You’remarriedtoo?”NellpointedtoMoira’slefthandandtheplaingold
bandstillonherfinger.
Moira’scheeksheated.“Notanymore.”Howdidsheexplaintostrangersthat
herhusbandhadthrownheroverforanotherwoman?
ButNelldidn’tseemtoneedanexplanation.Herbrowneyesgentled.“Isee.”
Thenshesmiled,diffusingtheawkwardness.“Andwhichcabinisyours?”
“G3,”Moirasaid,glancingatthepolisheddoors.
“Wonderful.We’reinG1,sonottoofaraway.We’llmakesureyoudon’tfeel
lonely.Butlet’sgetsettledin.Thetrainwillbemovingsoon.”
Nell’senthusiasmwascatchy,andMoirasmiled.Theovernightjourneyto
Venicewaspromisingtobebetterthanshe’dexpected.Atleastshe’dhavelesstime
onherowntodrowninhersorrows.
Allthepolishedcabindoorstheypassedwereclosed,exceptone.Thisdoor
wasslidallthewayopen,butnoonewasinside.Acasespilleditscontentsonthe
windowseat,andapairofmen’sjeansdangledfromtheslimwardrobedoor,while
shoesandotherclotheslaystrewnabout.
Messy.Moira’sinnateneedfortidinessraiseditscriticalhead,andshehadto
glanceaway.Thismesswasnothingtodowithher.Outoflove,she’dspenther
marriedlifecleaningupafteraman,butnomore.
“Hereweare…G3.”Nellstoppedinfrontofthecabinnexttotheuntidyone.
AndHenryslidthedoorbacktorevealthemirrorimageofnextdoor,butfar
neater.
Moirawalkedinandglancedaround.
“We’rejustacabinaway,”Nellsaid.“Dropbywheneveryoulike.I’llalsotell
thestewardtobookusonthesametablefordinner.”
“Thankyou.You’reverykind,”Moirasaid,herheartwarmingwithgratitudeto
knowfriendlyfaceswerenear.
She’dbeenaloneafterhermotherdiedearlierintheyear.Butshe’dpicked
herselfup,andshe’dsurvived.Andshe’dhavecontinuedtosurviveifshehadn’t
methim…
Shestoppedherself.Therewasnomorehim.
Andsomehowshe’dsurviveagain.
Butitwashardtofindstrengthrightnow,andthekindnessofstrangers
comfortedherlikeawoolblanketinwinter.FirstAlessandroandnowNelland
Henry.
Everythingwouldbeallright.
4
NellandHenrywalkedontotheircabin.Moiraplacedhertravelcasedownand
tookinhersurroundings.
Thiswashomeforthenight.
Thecabinwasdividedintwo.ThelivingareahadanL-shapedblueseatthat
ranbeneaththewidewindowandacrossoneside,andthelowpolishedtablein
frontoftheseatwasperfecttoeatorworkon.Butwhoworkedonanovernight
luxurytraintriptoVenice?
ThesmallbulboussilvervaseonthetablebroughtasmiletoMoira’slips.It
heldarealcallalily.Morelilies.Theyalreadydecoratedeverything.Thesameart-
decoliliesfromthedoorwereetchedindelicatecreamandgoldwhereverspace
existedonthepolishedwoodwalls.
Moirasethertravelcaseontheseat.Theluggagerackhighabovehadplentyof
extrastoragespace,butshedidn’tneedit.Hersmallcasewasallshehad,andit
containedeverythingshenowownedintheworld.
Thecabinairwaswarm,andtakingoffhercoat,shehungitupinthewardrobe
thatactedasapartitionbetweenthelivingareaandthebedroom.Acubicle
bathroomonthewindowsideformedtheotherhalfofthepartition.
Thebed,attachedtothecabinwall,tookupmostofthespaceinthebedroom.
Twopeoplewouldfit,butthey’dhavetosleepcloseandcurledupagainsteach
other.
Shetwistedtheringonherlefthand.
Thatwouldn’thavebeenaproblemonce.Themanshe’dlovedhadalways
sleptwithhertuckedupagainsthim.
Thatis…onthenightshe’dbotheredtoreturnhometoher.
Thegoldweddingbandgleamedonherfinger,mockingher.Everyoneofhis
nightsthathadn’tbeenhershadbelongedtoJennaNewham,hisfirstchoice.His
onlychoice.
“ThisplaceisexactlyasIleftit.”Daysago,JennaNewhamhadtwirledonherred
heelsasshelookedaroundthemoderndecorandfurnishingsofMoira’shusband’s
penthouse.
Herkeenbluegazerestedonasplatterofrainbowdotspaintedonacanvason
thewall,andherperfectredlipstwistedinsatisfaction.“AndhekepttheMissayI
boughthimforhisbirthday!”
Moiragroundherteeth.She’dreturnedfromcollegetofindthebeautiful
blondewaitingforher.Itwasn’tpolitetobootguestsfromyourhome,butshe’d
happilymakeanexceptionforJennaNewham.
Politenessbedamned.
“Wastheresomethingimportantyouwantedtotalkaboutorareyouhereto
wastemytime?”Moiraasked.
Withasmirk,Jennasashayedovertothefireplace,strokingapossessivehand
overthefurthrowonthecouchasshepassed.“You’vebeenmarriedsixmonths,
andyouhaven’tchangedathinghere.”
“I’venotneededtochangeanything.It’sfineasitis.”
Jennalaughed.“You’retooscaredtochangehishome,admitit.You’remarried
tooneofthewealthiestmeninthecountry.Anywifewithambitionwouldhave
remodelledthisplacebynow.”Shethrewherarmswidetoindicatethespacious
livingroom.
“WhyshouldIbescared?”Moiraasked,bristling.“AndIhaveotherambitions.
Redecoratingaperfectlyokayhomeisn’toneofthem.”
“Iheard.Yourbusinessdegree.Isthatstillearningyoubrowniepointswith
him,orhashealreadyforgottenyoustartedit?”
Moira’scheeksheated.She’dstartedthatdegreewhilestillworkingasher
husband’shousekeeper.Sheplannedonrunningherownhousekeepingcompany
oneday.Aplanshehadn’tabandonedevenaftermarriage.Herhusbandhadalways
beensupportive,butinthelastcoupleofmonthsitseemedlikehe’dforgotten
aboutMoira’sambitionandMoiraherself.
“He’sbeenbusy,”shesnapped.
Jennasmiled,andfaintdimplesflashedinhercheeks.Shereallywasabeauty—
longblondehair,brightblueeyes,afaceandfigurethathadwontopmodelling
contractsmanytimesover.Sheworeashortredshifttoday,thefigure-hugging
dressendingmid-thighandputtingherlongshapelylegsondisplay.
Moirabitbackherenvy.Hershortercurvierfigurewouldn’tcomeanywhere
nearthiswomaninthebeautystakes.Andasforthatdress…
RedwasMoira’shusband’sfavouritecolour,andJennaNewhamknewitwell.
“Iknowhe’sbeenbusy,”Jennasaid.“That’swhatIcametotalktoyouabout.”
PanicsentMoira’sheartracing,andallhersuspicionsofthelastfewmonths
cametoasharphead.“There’snothingIwanttohearfromyou.”Shepointedto
thedoor.“Pleaseleave.”
Jennashrugged.“Ifyouwanttopretendnothing’sgoingon,that’suptoyou.
Butthiscomfortablesetupyou’vegotherewon’tlastforever.”
Moirawipedclammypalmsonthesideofherjeans.Shedidn’twanttohearit.
Shedidn’t.Butapartofherhadtoknow…
“Haven’tyouwonderedwhereheiswhenhe’snotwithyou?”Jennacontinued,
hereyesnarrowingonMoira.
“He’sbusy…work…”Moira’svoicefaltered.
“Busy,yes.Withme.”
Moirashookherheadinadaze.“Idon’tbelieveyou,”shewhispered.
“Whenwasthelasttimeheslepthere?”
Sixdaysago.Moirahadsleptalmostaweekaloneintheirhugebed.
“Sixnights?”Jennaguessedwithasmirk.“AndIcantellyouwherehewason
everyoneofthosenights.”
Moiraswallowed.“Hedidn’twantyou.Hemarriedme.”
“Amistake,”Jennasaidbrightly.“Weallmakestupidmistakes,right?And
believemehe’sregrettingitnow.Webothare.”Shewalkedovertotheclosedpatio
doorsleadingtothewideterraceandpeepedout.“He’ssodamnproud.Hesaid
thingsintheheatofthemoment…”ShegaveMoiraanassessinglook.“Butyou
playedyourcardsright,didn’tyou?Hoveringaroundhimwhenhewasmissingme,
alwaysthere.Heonlymarriedyoutospiteme.”
“That’snottrue!”Moira’stremblinghandwenttotheweddingbandonher
finger.
Jenna’seyeslockedonthemovement.“Hedidn’tevenbuyyouanengagement
ring.”
AndMoira’sbreathshook.Thenighthe’dproposed…
Noring.
Nogoingdownononeknee.
Nopromisetoloveherforever.
Hehadn’tevenmentionedlove.Ever.Thathadbeenallher.She’dbeenhead
overheelsinlovewithhim.Naivelyso.
“Doyouknowhe’spromisedmethebiggestdiamond?”Jenna’ssmilewas
smug.“AndyoucanbetIwon’tbesettlingforagrottyregistrywedding.Ourswill
betheeventoftheyear.Atleasthedoesn’thavetobeembarrassedtoshowme
off.”
“He’snotembarrassedaboutme,”Moirawhispered,almosttoherself.Butshe
knewitwasalieassoonasshesaidit.Andallthelovebeatinginherheartcouldn’t
changethatfact.
Jennasaunteredovertoher.“Faceit,darling.Youwerealwayssecondchoice.
Hecouldn’thaveme,sohesettledforyou.Anditwasalljustagametogetme
back.”
Afinalweakhoperaiseditshead,andMoirasquaredhershoulders.“No.He
wouldtellmehimself…”
“It’sonlyamatteroftime.”Jenna’stonewaspitying.“Listen.Everyoneknows
you’reknockingaboutherealoneandunwantedmostnights.I’mjustsparingyou
thepain.Ifyouhaveanyprideyou’llleave.Now.Beforehethrowsyouout.”
5
Moirawanderedovertotheblueseatbythewindow.Snowswirledoutside.Tiny
whiteflakes,thousandsofthem,drifteddowntobrushtheconcreteplatform
oppositeandrestontheirontracksbelow.
WoulditbesnowinginVenice?
Pickingupherphone,sheflippedthroughtoAlessandro’sphoto.Hewasa
manwomenwouldstareatforages,buthedidn’taffecther,notwithherheartin
shreds.Whywasthisgood-lookingmanbeingsokindtoher?Washeafterher
money?
Heknewwhyhermarriagehadended,andthoughshehadn’tnamedher
husband,Alessandrohadguessedhewasawealthyman.Onlyproblemwas,she’d
signedtheprenupwiththesameblindlovewithwhichshe’dsignedhermarriage
certificate.Shehadnomoney.
Sheturnedbacktothesnow-mistedwindow.She’dneverhadloveeither.
“Fuckyou!”JennaNewham’sshriekhadbouncedthroughthepenthouse.
AndMoirahadduckedherheadandconcentratedonwipingdownthekitchen
counter.She’dbeeninthemiddleofcleaningupafterdinnerwhenthewomanhad
bargedintothepenthouse.Andnowthefierceargumentinthelivingroombeyond
thethinpartitionwallhadragedonforthepastfiveminutes.
“Whichsluthaveyoutakenupwith?”Jenna’svindictivevoicecameagain.
“Whatisitaboutthesewordsyoudon’tunderstand?”Histonewasdeceptively
mild.“Itoldyouweeksago.It’sfinished.”
“She’strash.Youfuckingdeservetrash.I’mtoogoodforyou.”
Hisbarkoflaughterwasderisive.“Yougiveyourselfwaytoomuchcredit.”
“Whoisshe?”Jennaspat.“She’ssofuckingdead!”
“Comenearmeoranyonetodowithmeeveragain,andI’llmakeyouwish
youwereneverborn,”hesaidquietly.
Moira’shandtightenedontheclothinherhand.Hemeantit.Inthemonth
she’dworkedashishousekeeper,she’dlearnedhedidn’tthrowwordsaround
carelessly.
AloadedpausemeantJennamusthavegotthemessagetoo.“Thisisn’tover,”
shesaidwithdeadlyvenom.“You’llbesorry.I’llmakeyousorry.”
Andthefrontdoorbangedshutwithaforcethatshookthewalls.
Hisfootstepsthuddedonthestonekitchenfloorbehindher,butMoiradidn’t
pausehercleaningorturnaround.He’dtalkifhewanted.
Sometimeshe’dtalktoherwhenthingswereheavyonhisshoulders,thingsto
dowithbusiness,thingsshedidn’talwaysunderstandbutlistenedtoanyway.Her
listeningseemedtogivehimrelief.Mostofthetimethoughhe’dbroodand
wouldn’ttalk,juststandnearbyassheworked,asifhavingherclosewassoothing
enough.Thentherewerethoserarepreciousmomentshe’dhaveajokeor
commentreadytomakeherlaugh.Hisblueeyeswouldsoftenthen,andhe’dgrin
athergiggles.Thosemomentshadsealedherfateandmadeherhis.
Thefridgedooropenedandshutbehindher,followedbythefizzofabeercan
beingcrackedopen.
“Youcanask,youknow,”hemurmured.
Moiraturnedthen.Hewasleaningagainstthecounter,hisheadtippedbackas
hesluggedthebeer.Andhisbeautifulprofilehadherstaringasalways.Wouldshe
evergetenoughoflookingatthisman?
Heloweredthecanwithagrimace,andtheturmoilinhiseyeshadherheart
aching.
They’dexchangednothingbutwords,alwaysproper,alwaysdistant,butalways
withanundertoneofwantingmore.Butdidhewantmore?Didhefeelthetiny
electricrippleswhenevertheirhandsaccidentallytouched?Didhethinktheworld
wasbrighterwhentheyweretogether?
Orwasthatjusther?
Hiseyesmethers,andhardnesscoveredthebriefglimpseofvulnerabilityin
his.
Moirapulledbackheryearning.Itwasjusther.Hefeltnothing.Andifhedid
feelanything,itwouldbeforJennawhomhe’dbeendatingforthepasttwo
months.
“Idon’twanttointrude,”shesaid,forcinglightnessintohervoice.
Heplacedthecandownonthecounter.“Whatdoyoufeelforme,Moira?”
Heatfloodedhercheeks.Howonearthhadshegivenherselfaway?Shehadto
clawitback,immediately.Shecouldn’taffordtolosethisjobjustbecauseshe’d
beenstupidenoughtofallheadoverheelsinlovewithherboss.
Keepitprofessional.
“You’reagoodemployer…”shefaltered.
Hislipstwistedinderision,andintwostrideshewasbeforeher.Hereached
upandcuppedherfaceinhisstronghands.
Moirastaredupathim,forgettingtobreathe.Andwhenheloweredhishead
andbrushedhislipsoverhers,shegasped.
Hetooktheopening,slidinghisarmsaroundherandpullinghertohimto
deepenthekiss.Andherwholeworldhungonhistouch,histaste,hisdivinescent
ofspiceandwood.Histongueteasedandexplored,andshediedinside,prayingfor
himtoneverletgo.
Butthenhebrokethekiss,andstrokingathumboverhertremblinglips,
frowneddownintohermesmerizedeyes.“Marryme,”hesaid.
“What?”Hervoicewasbarelyawhisper.
“Marryme,Moira.Bemywife.”
Hadshejustfallendowntherabbitholeintowonderland?Shesearchedhis
eyesforthejokebutfoundnone.Andherheartpoundedastheweightofhis
wordssettledinherdazedmind.“You’reserious…”
“I’veneverbeenmoreseriousinmylife.Marryme.”
“Yes.”
Yes.
Onesmallwordhadchangedherfateforever.They’dmarriedwithintheweek
withonlyhislawyeraswitness.They’dpartedstraightafter,hernewhusbandgoing
tohisoffice,andshebacktothepenthousetodotheworkshe’dalwaysdone.And
she’dcalleditlove.
Moirashookherheadinself-disgust.
Hereverynightwithhimhadbeenmagic,openinghertopleasureand
sensationshe’dneverknownbefore.He’dtakeheragainandagainasifstarvedof
her,andshe’dstillcalleditlove,untilshe’dlearnedlovemeantmorethanhotsex.
Ifonlyhe’dcaredenoughtoknowwhoshewasbeyondthewomanwhokept
hishomeneatandwarmedhisbedatnight.Butthenhe’dmarriedhertogetback
atJennaNewham,andshe’dbeenthefoolwhohadn’trealizedit.
Shelookedatthephoneinherhand.Alessandrocared.Shehadtobelievethat.
‘Noturningback,’shetyped.
Hisreplycameontheheelsofhermessage.‘Iwouldn’tletyou.Youbelongwith
me.’
‘You’realwayssowonderfulwithyourwords:)’Hergazeflickedtothesnow
outside.‘Thankyouforeverything.Itmeansalottome.’
‘Inwhatway?’heasked.
‘ChristmasDayismybirthday.’
‘Thenyou’reevenmorespecialthanIimagined.’
Asmiletouchedherlips,andhistextcameagain.‘WhatshouldIgetyouforyour
Christmasbirthday?’
‘Youdon’thavetogetmeanything.’
‘Iinsist.’
Moiragaveawryshakeofherhead.Therewasnopointarguing.‘Mymother
usedtogetmesomethingsweetformybirthdayeveryyear.’
‘Somethingsweetitisthen.’Hepaused.‘Wearsomethingbeautifulwhenyougetoff
thetraintomorrow.’
‘Why?’
‘It’sChristmasEve.Iwanttotakeyousomewherespecial.’
Warmthhuggedher.Hewasn’tembarrassedtobeseenoutwithher.‘That
soundswonderful.’
Hisreplycame.‘Restnow,tesoro.We’llseeeachothersoon.’
Withasmilesheplacedherphonedown,andopeninghercase,rummaged
insideuntilshefoundthecarefullyfoldeddress.Herfavourite.Itwasredsequinned
silk,sleevelessanddrop-waisted,butitscutstillhuggedhercurvesandthegently
flaredskirtendedatherknee.Shehadn’tbeenabletoleavethisdressbehind.And
nowshethankedherinstincts.Alessandrowouldloveit.
Butwhyred?
Frowning,sheheldthedressuptothelightofthewindow.Thesequins
twinkled,andmemoriesspearedherheart.Thedresscrumpledinhergrip.
Herhusbandlovedred.He’dsaiditmadeasexywomandamnirresistible.
Moiradroppedthedressbackinthecase.Whydidshebringthisdress?Why
notanyothercolour?
Shestudiedhergoldweddingring.Whywasshestillstuckonhim,her
husband?
WhatdiditmatterifAlessandrowantedhermoney?Whatdidanythingmatter?
Allshewantedwasapromiseofnotbeingalonerightnow,ahopeofanew
beginning.
Andpullingtheringoffherfinger,shedroppeditbesidethesilvervaseonthe
table.
Itwouldn’tbeleavingthetrainwithher.
“MesdamesetMessieurs…”Themanager’stinnyvoicecameoverthespeaker.
“WelcomeaboardtheRoyalExpress.WearenowreadytodepartParis.”
UneasegrippedMoira.Thiswasreallyhappening.
ShewasleavingParisbehindjustlikeshe’dleftLondonbehindthislunchtime,
andtomorrowmiddayshe’dbeinVenice.
Thehornblaredloudandlong,once…twice…andthetrainjudderedaround
her,thenslowlypulledforward.Withinsecondsthestationhadslidoutofsight.
Moiradrewherselftogether.Noregrets.She’dchosentogotoVeniceandstart
again.Timetolookforwardnotback.Andsheturnedtohercaseontheseat.
Butthetrain’smovementhadshakenopenthedoorbetweenhercabinandthe
onebesideit,andnowthewidedoorflappedintoherspace.Thecabinsonthis
traindoubledupifneeded,butwhoeverwasnextdoorwouldn’tappreciateher
gawkingintotheirpersonalspace.Hopefullythedoorhadalock.
Shemovedtocloseit,butthemessintheothercabinhadherstoppingand
pokingherheadin.Thecleanfreakinheryearnedtoquicklytidyup,noonewould
notice,butshekeptatightleashonit.Otherpeople’smesswasn’therproblem.
Shewasn’tanyone’sservanthere.
Moiradrewbackintoherspacereadytoclosethedoor,butsomethingfamiliar
hadherpausing.
Shesniffedtheair.
Someonehadleftthecabinwindowopen,turningtheaircold,butafaintstrain
ofsomethingthatwasn’tthelily-of-the-valleysmellofthetrainstirredhersenses.
Withasmallfrown,sheenteredthecabinandfollowedthetantalizingscent.
Somethingexclusive.Somethingexpensive.Somethingloadedwith
memories…spiceandwood.
Shecametotheopenbathroom,andthereonthewhitemarblevanitysata
familiarbottleofcologne.Butitwasthediscardedblackbowtiebesideitthathad
herhandstrembling.
Thecabindoorswishedshutbehindher,andshespunaround,hershaking
handsgoingtohermouthasshestaredindisbeliefatthemanwho’djustwalkedin.
“Darren?”
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ApplebyBook1
FallinlovealongsidetheHarringtonsistersandtheirfriendsfromthequirkyEnglishvillage
ofAppleby.EachApplebybookisastandalonenovelandendsinahappyeverafter.
VillagegirlMollyKingmustquicklymendherbrokenheartorperish.Butwithsexy
billionaireJakeHennessythreateningbothherheartandherhome,she’sabouttoloseeverything
shehasleftintheworld.
Turnthepagetoreadchapters.
1
Onefinesummerevening,MollyKing’slifecrashedtothefloorandshatteredinto
amillionpieces.
Aroundher,thevicarage’sreceptionroomsharpenedwiththebuzzof
whispers.Fineteacupsclinkedbackontomatchingsaucers.Andsensingscandal,
peoplestaredfirstatMollyandthenatthehandsomecoupleinthedoorway.
DisbeliefnumbedMolly,andshestaredtoo,unabletoriphergazefromthe
twonewcomers.
Thenthemanshelovedwithallherheartslippedanarmaroundhisstunning
companion’swaist,dippedhishead,andkissedherredlips.
Mollyscreamedinside.
“Brian.Abby.We’dalmostgivenuponyou.”KathleenHarrington,their
hostess,hurriedtothecouple.Herhighvoicewasapiercingtrillthatscraped
Molly’sjaggednerves.
Abby?
Kathleenknewthiswoman?
“Sosorry,AuntKath.”BriankissedKathleen’sangularcheek.“Thetraffic
downfromLondonwasawful.Butit’sgreattobebackintheoldplaceandsee
everyoneagain.”
Hesaiditloudenoughfortheroomtohear,backingitupwiththatcharm-
infusedgrinofhis.Peoplerelaxed,murmuredtheirapproval,andlikehappylittle
bewitchedsheep,gatheredaroundhimandhisnewsqueezeatthedoor.
Molly’sonlywayoutwasblocked.
Trappedbythetallarchingwindowsbehindher,shehuddledattheopposite
endofthereceptionroom,dreadingthemomentBriansawher.
God,whatafoolshewas.He’dbeengonethreemonths,andshe’dwantedto
wowhimwhenhereturned.Sheglanceddownatherfigure-huggingturquoise
dress.She’dboughtitforhim.Itsdelicatelacesleevesgracedherslimarms,andits
sweetheartnecklinepresentedhersmallcleavagelikeagift.Thesoftsilktightened
intoajewel-studdedgatheringatherhipsbeforeflowingmermaidstyletoher
knees.Whathadshebeenthinking?Itwasn’tthetypeofdressvillagersinAppleby
wore,andshe’dgarneredplentyoflookswhenshe’denteredthevicarageearlier.
Thetypeoflooksacallgirlcollectsinchurch.Butshe’dwantedtoshowBrianshe
wasn’tfrumpy,thatshecouldbeeverythinghewantedhertobe.
Thedresshadlookedperfectintheboutiquemirroryesterday.Theturquoise
colourhadmadeherlight-blondecurlsandpale-blueeyesshine.Andthematching
highheelshadraisedherdiminutivefive-foot-fourtosomethingdecent.
Itwasn’tsoperfectnow.
Mollyglancedatthecouple.WasitonpurposethebeautywithBrianwasthe
exactoppositeofeverythingshewas?ThewomanstoodalmostastallasBrian’ssix
footinherbaby-pinkheels.Hermatchingpinkdressmouldedherslendercurvesas
ifcutforher,andhercurtainofchestnut-brownhairswishedaroundherface,
framingtheluminanceofherskin.
Withatremblinghand,Mollysmoothedbackherwildnestofblondecurls.
Howdidsheevencompete?ComparedtothewomanwithBrian,shelookedlikea
tackyturquoisecaketopper.Heronlysavinggracewasthatshewasn’tmakinga
completelaughingstockofherselfbywearingthecome-to-bedturquoiseheelsas
well.She’dsteppedoutinacomfortablepairofflatshoesinstead.Butthatwasn’t
muchconsolation.
Shelookedupagain,andhergazecollidedwithBrian’s.Satisfactionswept
acrosshisfeatures,verymuchlikeaspiderwho’dspottedafly,andshegasped.He
wasonlyayearolderthanher,butthiswasn’tthelaid-backladwho’dleftAppleby
threemonthsago.ThisBrianwaspolished,moreincontrol.Hisusuallytousled
darkhairwascombedbackinrigidperfection.Histallleanbodywasencasedina
finenavy-bluesuit.Andtheboyishcharmofhislazysmilenolongerreachedhis
coal-blackeyes.Thecityhadswallowedthecountryboyshe’dknownandspatout
asophisticatedcoldman.
Hewhisperedsomethinginhiscompanion’sear.ThewomanshotMollyacool
glancethatgaugedherfromheadtotoeandthendismissedherasirrelevantinthe
spaceofasecond.
SuddenangerroiledthroughMolly,breakingthroughhernumbshockand
propellingherforward.Howdarehe…Shedidn’thavetotakeanyofthis.Butshe’d
movedonlyastepwhenBrianandhisnewgirlfriendpushedthroughthecrowd
andmadetheirwaytowardsher.Curiousgazesfollowedthem.
Damnhim!Hecouldn’tletherkeepalittledignity.Hehadtomakeherthe
centreofattention.Andreininginherturbulentemotions,almostchokingon
them,sheschooledherfeaturesintopoliteindifferenceandwaited.
“Molly,wonderfultoseeyou.”
“Brian.”Shedidn’treturnhissmile.
“I’dliketointroduceAbby.”Hewrappedanarmaroundthebrunette’swaist
again.“Myfiancée.”
Oh,God!
Wasshestillstanding?
Brianwaswatchingher,siftingforherreactiontothetonofbrickshe’djust
droppedonherhead.Hurt,shame,loss,allriotedinMolly,butsherefusedtogive
himthesatisfaction.Withastrengthofwillshewasproudof,sheforcedasmileto
herlips.“Fiancée?Congratulations.”
Hernonchalancehitthemark.Brian’seyesnarrowed,andtherestoftheroom
lostinterest.Abby’seyeshadshonewithveiledhostility,butnowsherelaxed.With
asmile,sheever-so-casuallyraisedhermanicuredlefthand.Thepebble-sized
diamondonherringfingerglitteredfiercelyinthesunlight.
“Andsuchabeautifulring,”Mollymutteredoncue,thewordslikegravelin
hermouth.Shedidn’tneedtobeadiamondexperttoseethatBrianhadbought
somethingworthfarmorethanwhattheaveragevillagerearnedinayear.Herheart
constrictedasifamercilesshandhadsqueezeditdry.
Abbysimpered.“Itwasallsofast,butwecouldn’tbehappier.”Hercultured
voicehadabreathlessgirlishqualitythatsatatoddswiththerazor-sharplightin
herblueeyes.
Suddenly,thedesperateneedtoputmilesofdistancebetweenherselfandthis
coupleoverwhelmedMolly.“I’mglad.Ifyou’llexcuseme…?”Andshemovedto
steppastthem.
ButBrian’squickhandonherarmstalledher.“Don’trunoffyet,Molly.Itold
Abbyyou’dhelpwiththeweddingplans.YouandSophieandtheothergirls.”
What?Noway!Shesnatchedherarmbackandglaredawarningathim.A
warninghesmirkedaway.
“Daddyinsistswehaveachurchwedding,”Abbysaid,seeminglyobliviousto
thetension.“Nothingelsewilldo.Butwedon’twanttowaittoolong,dowe
darling?”ShesmiledupatBrian.
AflickerofannoyanceshotthroughBrian’seyes,andMollystared,butitwas
goneasquickasithadcome,andhereturnedAbby’ssmile.“Ofcoursenot.Uncle
Iancanarrangeitinamatterofweeks.”HeraisedAbby’shandtohislips.“You’ll
makeabeautifulsummerbride.”
Giggling,AbbyturnedtoMolly.“It’ssoexciting!Daddywantedsomewhere
bigger,butIcan’twaittogetmarriedinanoldchurchwithbellsringingandapple
treesoutside.”Herexpressionshiftedtowinsomepleading.“Oh,sayyou’llhelp
withtheplanning.Itwouldbejustfabulousifyoudid.”
Mollygrittedherteeth.Eitherthewomanwasatotalairhead,orshewas
gleefullyrubbingMolly’sfaceintheruinsofafailedlove.Alovethat,inMolly’s
dreams,hadgotasfarasAppleby’schurchaltartopromiseherlifelikehermother
andgrandmotherbeforeher.Indespair,shelookedatBrian,lettingthepleading
reminderofallhe’deverpromisedherfillthatlook.Buthisexpressionwas
unyielding,impassive.Hershouldersslumpedindefeat.Itwasasifhewasgone
fromherforever.
Thenonasteadyingbreath,shestraightened.Sobeit.Butshewouldn’tlet
themaddinsulttoinjury.SheturnedtoAbbywithallherdignity.“You’llfind
plentyofotherpeopletohelpyou.Appleby’saclose-knitkindofplace.”
“I’msure.Suchaquaintlittlevillage.”Abby’scut-glassaccentwasdismissive.
Brian’sexpressiontwisted.Hehadn’tmissedtheemphasisontheword‘little’.
“You’llloveAppleby,darling.I’lltakeyouonatourtomorrow.”
Mollysmiledinwardlyathisdefensivetone,andtheimpofmischiefrosein
her.“Justbecareful,”shesaidtoAbby.“Thosecowpatsgeteverywhere.Andthose
runawaygoats?MyGod,butthey’reamenace!They’llgobbleyouwhole,diamond
ringandall.”
Abby’sexpressioncooled.
“It’snotlikewe’llbelivinghereoncewe’remarried,darling,”Briansoothed,
shootingMollyaquellinglook.
Mollyhidanothersmile.She’dexaggerated,butlittleMissPreciousmorethan
deservedit.Butthenthelightnessevaporated.Sheshovedpastthem.“Excuseme.
It’sgettinglate.”
“How’syourNan,Molly?”Brianaskedasshepassed.
Shestoppedandturnedbackwithafrown.“Fine.She’sfine.”
“Iheardshehadanoperationamonthago.Herleg,wasit?”
“Ididn’tknowyoustilltookaninterestinthingshere,Brian.”
Heshrugged.“I’vemissedtheplace.”Hisdarkgazecapturedandheldhers.
“Anditisgoodtoseeyouagain,Molly.”
Hopebeatinherchestlikeacrazedbutterfly,andheryearningheartgrabbedat
thepossiblehiddenmeaninginhiswordsbeforeshecouldstopit.Indesperation,
shesearchedhiseyesforsomethingmore.
“Darling.”Abbyplacedahandonhischest,andhisattentionwasatoncehers.
“Itwassuchalongdrive,andI’mtired.Couldn’twefindsomewherequietfora
while?”Hertoneheldahintofpromise.
Smiling,Brianbenttoplacealingeringkissonherpoutinglips.“AuntKathhas
ourroomprepared.Comeon.”
Abbybeamedlikethecatthatjustgotthecream.Andclingingtothecrookof
Brian’sarm,shesweptpastMolly.
Mollystoodparalyzed,watchingthemwalkaway.He’dbeentoyingwithher.
He’dwantedtoforceareactionfromher,andnaiveclodthatshewas,she’d
deliveredittohimonaplatter.
Howcouldshehavebeensoweak?
Howcouldshestillwanthimback?
God!Shewouldneverbesogullibleagain.Andragingatherself,sherushed
fromtheroom.
2
Kathleen’sgatheringswereinformalenoughthatpeoplecameandwentaslongas
theteaandcakeslasted.Mollypushedthevicarage’skitchendooropen.Noone
wouldcareifsheslippedawayearlythroughtheback.
Butasshewalkedintothekitchen,Appleby’svicarpulledhisheadoutofthe
lowcupboardhe’dbeenrummagingin.“Molly,domeafavour.”IanHarrington’s
owlishglasseswerewonky.Hisdarkpointybeardwasruffled.Andhispermanent
expressionoffrowningsurprisewasfiercerthanusual.“Kathleenwantstotoasther
nephew’slatestachievement,andshe’sdispatchedmeonchampagneduty.”
Unfoldinghistallbodyfromthefloor,hestoodupandplonkedtwochampagne
flutesonthekitchencounterbesidealargebottle.“Takethesethroughforme,my
dear.Ican’tbearthefuss.”
Mollygroanedinwardly.Ofallthepeopleheshouldask…
ButReverendHarringtonmadebeingobliviousintoanartform.He’dprobably
forgottensheusedtobeinarelationshipwithBrianandthatithurtlikehelltobe
hererightnow.
Buthisfierceglarepleadedwithherfrombehindhisroundglasses,andshe
gavein.“Ofcourse,Ian.”
Hebeamed.“Thankyou.”Andcheckinghiswatch,hestrodetowardstheback
door.“IneedtoshowColonelEdwardsmyprizemarrowsbeforeheleaves.
Wouldn’twanthimtosuffertheimpressionhe’llwinatthefairthisyear.”He
pausedwithhishandonthedoorhandle.“Andifmywifeasks,I’minmyoffice,
horrendouslybusyandnottobedisturbed.”Hepulledthedooropenand
disappearedintothelargebackgardenbeyond.
Justgreat!Mollybenttogatherchampagneflutes.Maybeifshewasquick
enough,shecouldfinishthisandbeoutofherebeforeBrianshowedupagain.
Though,judgingfromthelookonBrian’sandAbby’sfacesasthey’dlefther,she
probablyhadplentyoftime.Bileroseatthethoughtofwhattheymustbedoing
upstairsrightnow.Sheshovedtheimageaside.Shedidn’tcarewhatBriandid,or
whohediditwith.
Scowling,shereachedintothecupboardforthelasttwoglassflutes.
“Molly,I’msosorry.NoneofushadanyideaaboutBrianandAbby,”Avoice
saidbehindher.
Clingingtohercomposure,Mollystraightened.Sheplacedthetwofluteson
thecounterandturnedtofaceherbestfriend.“It’sallright,Sophie.”
ButSophieHarrington’smoss-greeneyesbrimmedwithanxiety,andshe
nervouslytuckedastrandofdarkhairbackfromherprettyface.“Idon’tknow
howmumkeptthissoquiet.We—”
“He’sengaged,Sophie!”Suddentearsstung,andMollyblinkedthemback.“I
feellikesuchafool.”
“Oh,Molly.”Sophierushedforwardandclaspedherinatighthug.
Mollyslumpedagainsthertallerfriend.“Howcouldhesayhestilllovesmeand
thengetengagedtoher?That’snotlove!IthoughtIknewwhatlovewas,butI
don’t…Ineverdid.”
“Thisisn’tyourfault.”Sophie’stonewasfierce,thenshesighed.“This
relationship…it’sallsosudden.”
Agitated,Mollypulledaway.“Whatifhewasseeingherallthistimein
London?”Sheshookherheadathernaivety.
“YouvisitedhimthatfirstmonthhewasinLondon,didn’tyou?You’dhave
noticedsomething.”
Mollygrimaced.Shehadn’ttoldSophie,hadputabravefaceonit,butthat
weekendtriptoLondonhadbeenaboutascomfortableasjumpingintoapitof
vipers.She’dbarelystayedonherfeetatthenightclubBrianhadtakenherto,and
thenshe’dbeentooilltogooutwithhimthenextday.He’dlabelledherold-
fashionedandshruggeditoff.Butshe’dreturnedtoAppleby,burningwith
embarrassmentatheruselessness.
“Ididn’tseeAbbyinLondon,”shesaid.“ButthenIwasn’ttherelongenough.
AndwheneverIcalledBrianafterwardshe’dsayworkwashecticandhewouldn’t
bebackinApplebyforsometime.Thelasttimewespoke,he…hewantedusto
takeitslow,andIsaidI’dwaitforhiscall.”Hervoicedroppedtoawhisper.
“That’swhenhesaidhestilllovedme.AndIbelievedhim.Buthenevercalled
again.”
Sophiegasped.“ThatstupidBrian,alwayssoselfish.Forgethim,Molly.”
Mollyburiedherfaceinherhands.“OhGod,Sophie,howcanI?Inever
wantedtolosehim.He’stheonlyman…”Sheraiseddesperateeyestoherfriend.
“Istilllovehim.”
Thekitchendoorswungopen.
“Forgoodness’sake,Ian.Howlongdoesittake—”KathleenHarrington
stoppedonseeingthem.
Shewasatallstringywoman,andherfussingalwaysputMollyinmindofa
finickyhen.
Kathleen’shypercriticalgazesweptoverthebottleandglassesonthecounter.
“Sophie,Molly,don’tjuststandthere.Bringthosetothereceptionroom.”
Sophiefrowned.“Mum,whydidn’tyoutellanyoneaboutBrian’s
engagement?”
“Iwantedittobeasurprise,”Kathleensaid,lookingaffronted.
“ButyoumusthaverealizedMollywouldwanttoknow.”
“Don’tfuss,Sophie!”Kathleenshothereldestdaughterasternglance,before
smilingplacatinglyatMolly.“Now,Molly,IknowyouandBrianwereclosethis
pastyear,butyouweren’tintouchforafewmonths,andthesethingsdieout.”
Mollyglared.Thenerveofthewomantomakeassumptions.“DidBriantell
youthat?Thatthingshaddiedoutforus?”
“Ofcoursenot.Buttotellthetruth,Inevercouldseewhatthetwoofyouhad
incommon.Youwerebothlikeapplesandoranges.”Kathleengaveadismissive
shrug.“Anyway,that’sallwaterunderthebridgenow.Agood-lookinggirllikeyou
won’tbelackingineligiblesuitorsforlong,anditwouldbechurlishofusnottobe
happyforBrianandAbby.”
“Butwhoisshe?”Sophieasked.“Anddon’tyouthinkthisengagementisalittle
quick?”
Kathleenfrowned.“Abby’sasweetgirl,Sophie,andIwantyouandyoursisters
totakegoodcareofher.HerfatherownstheinvestmentcompanyBrianworksfor,
sowewanttoshowherwe’renotalllivinginthesticksuphere.”Shepaused,
lookingsmug.“AndImustadmit,itisquiteamatchforourBrian.”
“IknewIheardsomeonesaymyname.”
He’dchangedhisclothes.Gonewasthecoolcityman,andthereinthekitchen
doorwaystoodtheBriansheknewsowell,casualinjeansandafittedgreyt-shirt.
Hisdarkhairwastousled,andtherewasacarefreesmileonhisface.
Mollysimmeredinsilentanger,notlettingherthoughtstraveltohowAbby
mighthaveputthatsmilethere.
Kathleensmiledathernephew.“Brian,how’sAbby?”
“Wornout.”Hesaidwithasmirk.Hestrolledtothekitchencounterand
pickingupthechampagnebottle,examinedit.
Kathleentutted.“Yes,ofcourse.Quiteunderstandable,thepoordear.The
two-hourdrivefromthecitycanbesoexhausting.Doyouthinkshemightjoinus
onceshe’srested?”
“Sure.”HeputthebottledownandturnedhisattentiononMolly.
Mollystaredback,silentlydaringhimtosayanythingtoher.
“Yes…Well…”Kathleenflutteredoverandpickedupthechampagnebottle.
“Sophie,helpmewiththeseglasses.”
WithalastworriedglanceinMolly’sdirection,Sophiegatheredupseveral
champagneflutesandhurriedoutofthekitchenafterhermother.
Brian’sgazeroamedoverMolly’ssilkdress.“Youlookbeautiful,Molly.I’m
gladyou’rehere.Cominghomewouldn’tbethesamewithoutseeingyou.”
Mollysuckedinasharpbreath.“Believeme,Brian,ifithadn’tbeenforyour
aunt’sconnivingtoday,Iwouldn’tbewithinamileshotofyou.”
“AuntKathmusthavethoughtitwouldbeeasierforAbbytomeetyouhereat
thevicarage.”Asmallsmiletouchedhislips.“Savesongossip.”
“EasierforAbby?Whataboutme,Brian?OrdidInevermatter?”
“You’llalwaysmatter.”Hetookasteptowardsher.
Thehungrylookinhisdarkeyesthrewher.“H–howcanyoustillsaythat?”
Hefrownedthen,lookingknockedoffbalanceforamoment.“Look,whatwe
had…therewasnothinghereforme.”
“I’mhere,Brian.I’vealwaysbeenhereforyou.”
“That’sjustit.You’rehereforyourNan,andshehatesmyguts.You’rehere
forBarrowdene,andthatdamnhouseisn’tevenyours.”Hislipscurledindisdain.
“Itwasneveraboutme,wasit?You’vegotyourlifeinApplebylaidout,andmy
rolewastoplayhappyfamiliesherewithyou,nomatterwhatIwanted.”
Mollystaredathim.“Butyouwerehappyhere.Applebyisyourhome.
Everyoneheredotesonyou.”
“Whatuseisthattome?I’mbiggerthanthisplace.I’mnotreadytoshut
myselfofffromwhattheworldcangive.Lookatyou.You’retwenty-five,and
you’restuckhereactinglikeyou’refifty.It’sboring,Molly.”
Hurtstungdeep.“Iwasn’tboringforyouwhenweweretogetherhere.But
nowAbbyistheexcitementyouwant?”
“Youwouldn’tunderstand.It’snotaboutwashed-outsummerfairsouttherein
therestoftheworld.Outthere,it’sthrobbingwithlife,anditbelongstothosewho
seizeopportunitywithbothhands.”
“Doyouloveher,Brian?”
“SureIdo.”Aghostofasmirkhoveredoverhislips.
Mollyglared.“Oh,Isee.Likeyoulovedme?Soundslikeyou’rejustseizinga
newopportunity.”
“Abby’sperfectforme,”hebitout.“I’mgoingplaces,andIneedsomeone
whocankeepup.”
“Youdisgustme.Loveisn’tabusinessdeal,Brian.Imaybeboring,butIloved
youonce,and—”
“Love!Anddidyoulovemeenoughtostaywithme?Enoughtoleaveyour
preciousBarrowdene,yourNan?”
Shestaredathim,lostforwords.Washeright?He’dleftAppleby,andshe’d
wantedhimtocomeback,butshehadn’ttriedhardertobewithhim.
Hislaughterwasmocking.“Ithoughtnot.”
“Youneverasked,”shewhispered.
“Ialreadyknewyouranswer.”Hereachedoutandcuppedhercheek,hisdark
eyesintent.“Ilovedyou,Molly.ButIwonderifyoueverlovedme?”
Always,shewantedtosay,butthewordstuckinherthroat.Haditbeenher
fault?Couldshehavetriedharderforthem?Ifonlyshehadn’tstayedbackintheir
village…
Theaccusationinhiseyesburnedintoher.Andinasilentpleafor
understanding,shecoveredhishandwithhers,andpressinghercheekagainsthis
warmpalm,breathedinhiscleancitrusscent.
AlightsparkedinBrian’seyes,andhisgazedroppedtoherlips.
Molly’sbreathfaltered,andshestaredupathim.Realitymingledwithmemory
andtransportedherbacktoatimebeforeAbby,atimewhentherehadonlybeen
herandBrian.
Hedippedhisheadandbrushedhislipsoverhers.Agentletouch.Andher
eyelidsflutteredcloseonasmallsighofrelief.
Butallofasuddenhisseekinglipsdemandedmore,andhishandsspannedher
waisttopullherintothehardheatofhisgroin.
Molly’sslumberingmindjerkedawake,andshewrenchedhermouthfromhis.
“No!OhGod.Don’t!”Hands,armsandelbowsshovingagainsthischest,she
yankedfreefromhishold.
“Whatthehell?”Brianstaredatherindisbelief,hisfaceflushed.
Coldshamedrainedthebloodfromhercheeks,leavinghertrembling.Molly
raisedahandtoherlips.“I’msorry.Ican’t…”Withashakeofherhead,shespun
away,andyankingthebackdooropen,ranoutintothesharpeveningsunlight.
3
Thepeacewasstartling.
Theroadbehindthemwasempty.Onlytheirmotorbikesparkedbythegrassy
vergeshowedthatvehiclestouchedthiscountryhighwayatall.Londonwithitscity
noiseandconstantrumbleofheavywheelswasaworldaway.Hereinthisgreen
paradise,thesunshone,birdssanginthetrees,andtheeveningbreezewhipped
overswayinggrasstocooltravel-wearyskin.
Jakeleanedhiselbowsonthewoodenfenceandbreathedinthefreshscentof
grassandsoil.Thebreezestirredstrandsofgoldenhairintohiseyes.Pushinghis
hairbackwithanimpatienthand,hegazedatthevillageinthedistance.
“Don’tneedthebikes,”Damonsaidbesidehimwithateasingglintinhis
copper-colouredeyes.“Hopoverthisfence,takeafive-minutetumbledownthe
hillside,andyou’rethere.”Heuncappedhisbottleofwaterandraisedittohisdark
lips.
Jaketookaswigfromhisownbottle.“Asenticingasthatsounds,I’drather
enjoythejourney.”
“What’stoenjoy?Lookaroundyou,bro.It’snoman’sland.Otherthanthe
fourofus,there’snooneelseformiles.”
Jakeglancedtohisleftwheretheothertwowerestandingfurtheralongthe
fence,chattingandpointingtothevillagebelow.“Thequiet…”hemurmured.
“That’swhat’stoenjoy.”
Hefilledhislungswiththeclearairagain.Thevillagenestledlikeafairytalein
itspeacefulvalley.Greentreesspreadbetweenthatchedcottageroofs,anda
church’sredbelltowerstoodinthemiddleoverlookingeverythinglikeaproud
watchman.
Ithadn’tbeenhisfirstchoiceofescape,butnowthathewashere,itsomehow
feltright.
“Idon’tknow…”Damonmuttered.“Quietmeanstoomuchtimetothink.At
leastthecitykeepsyoubusy…keepsyourheadclear.”
Jakecastaquicklookattheothertwowhowerestillchatting.“Thingscatching
upwithyou?”heaskedDamon.
Damonsilentlytookanotherdrinkfromhisbottle.
“Running’shard,isn’tit?”Jakeaskedquietly.“Ishouldknow.I’vebeendoing
enoughofitthispastmonth.”
“I’mnotrunning.”
“Right,you’renot…Thentalktoher.Shewantsyouback.”
Withawryshakeofhishead,Damonturnedaway.
Jakeletoutafrustratedbreath.Amonthagohe’dscreweduphislifeandthe
livesofthetwopeoplehelovedmostinthisworld.Nowhewasforcedtostandby
andwatchthembreakapart.“Shestilllovesyou…”
Damon’shandtightenedonhisbottle.“Shedoesn’tknowthemeaning.Just
likeSiennadidn’tknowthemeaning.”
“LeaveSiennaoutofthis.It’snotthesame.”
“Why?She’sthereasonyou’rehere,isn’tshe?I’mnottheonewhojustbought
abroken-downmanorinthemiddleofnowheretoescapehisex’smemory.”
“Tohellwithmemory!Andthebloodyparasiteswhowantapieceofit.”Jake
grippedthefenceandscowleddownatthevillage.“Maybeyoucanshrugthepast
off,butifthisismyonlyescape,thenfine.”
“Hell,bro.Ididn’tmeanitlikethat,”Damonsaidwithagrimace.“Yeah,you
needtohunkerdowntillthingsblowover.Igetthat.Butyoualsoneedtotalk
aboutit.YoulostSienna,andyoucan’tkeepthatstuffedinsideyou.It’sgonna
explode.”
“Italreadydid.”
Damonsmirked.“Yeah,thatpaparazzoyousockedwon’tbeaskingquestions
likethatagainanytimesoon.”
Jaketookanothersipofwater.
‘Haditbeensuicide?’
‘Didyoudrivehertoit?’
‘Wereyouresponsibleforherdeath?’
Themediahoundshadseemedtopopoutfrombehindeverydoorandcity
corner.
Helookedoverthecalmcountryside.Atleasthere,noonewasjumpingout
frombehindthetreeswithquestionshecouldn’tanswer.
“I’mnotsorryaboutit,”hesaid.“Andifanotherguystickshisfaceinmine
lookingforastory,he’llgetthesame.”
Damongrinned.“Thenit’sbestyoulielowforawhile,orthingswillget
mightyexpensiveforthecompany.And…”Heshrugged.
“Andthisisn’tthetimeforit,”Jakefilledin.
Theirarchitecturalandconstructionfirmwasonthevergeofwinningamulti-
milliondollarcontracttoconstructaManhattanmegatower.Butthemediastorm
overhislovelifewasdemolishingallthehardworkDamonandhe’dputinto
securingthedeal.
“Ican’tdenyit’sbeenaproblem,”Damonsaid.“Butit’smorethanbusiness,
bro.You’renotyouanymore.You’veletwhatpeoplesayaboutSiennagettoyou.
I’mjusthopingthisplacecansomehowbringyoubacktolifeagain.”
Jakeglancedaway.EverythinghadendedthemomentSiennadied.He’d
clammedup,unabletotellanyonethetruth,notevenDamon,hisbestfriendand
businesspartneroffourteenyears.Hisbrotherinallbutblood.ButDamonhadn’t
pushedtheissueeither.He’dpickeduptheslackonalltheirbig-nameprojects,
givingJakethetimeandspaceheneeded.Butthesensationalisttabloidshadn’tlet
go,andJakehadwhirleddownaprivatehellhewouldn’twishonanyliving
creature.Andhecouldn’tstanditanymore.
“I’mnotexpectingmiracles,”hesaidquietly.“Justafewweekstodisappear
untiltheworldforgetsandIcanpickupmylifeagain.”
“Itwasn’tyou.Youdidn’tkillher.”
Jakeshrugged.HemaynothavegivenSiennathedrugs,buthe’dintroduced
hertothelifestylethatintheendkilledher.Whathadbegunasacrazyattraction
hadthrustaninnocentgirlintoaworldshewasn’treadyfor.She’dcrashedand
burned,anditwouldforeverbehisfault.“Ifshe’dnevermetme,she’dstillbe
alive.”
“Youdon’tknowthat.”
“It’smyfault.”
“Man…”Damonshookhishead.“You’veletitdestroyyou.”
Livingdeath.That’swhatthiswas.Jakeclosedhiseyesontheemptinessinside.
Damonplacedahandonhisshoulder.“MaybeyouneedthisplacemorethanI
thought.Youneedthequiet.”
Jakelookedatthevillage.Itstranquillitywasbreathable.Anditssimplicity
seemedtoradiateawillingnesstoaccepthimforwhathewas.
Aninnocentsimplicityhe’doncethoughthe’dfoundinawoman.
“Yeah…”hemurmured,“Ineedthis.”
***
Mollyslowedherpaceonlyafterputtingseveralyardsbetweenherselfandthe
vicarage.Appleby’sshop-linedMainStreetlaybeforeher,butitwasriddledwith
smalltalkandwell-wishersonthissunnyevening.Andshewasinnomoodtotalk
toanyone.
Withoutbreakingstride,shesteppedintoanarrowoverhunglane.Hersweat-
glazedskinwentfromhottocoolinablinkinthesuddenwelcomeshade.
StMary’sLane,namedafterthetallparishchurchthatstoodattheotherend,
wasemptyandquiet.Onlythetweetsofbirdspreparingfortheireveningnests
soundedinthetreebranchesoverhead.Andoccasionally,thesmokysmellofa
back-gardenbarbecuerosefrombeyondtheLane’sancientstonewallasshe
passed.
Inthatcalm,Mollyslowlyunwound,andthestewofemotionswirlinginside
hersettledintoanger.
Thatkiss.Whatonearthhadpossessedher?
BrianwaswithAbbynow,andshehadtoacceptthat.
But…didheevenloveAbby?
Damnit.Sheshookherhead.Noneofherbusiness.Anditdidn’tmatterwhy
Brianhadkissedher;sheneededtokeepawayfromhim,neededtokeepherheart
safe.
Thenarrowlanewidenedasthered-brickbelltowerofStMary’sChurch
loomedintoview.Thechurchorchardwastoherright,andbeyonditstoodthe
headstonesinthegraveyard.Mostwereworn-grey,patchedandagedwithgreen
moss,butsomewerenewer,gleamingwhite.Hergrandfather’swasoneofthose.
They’dburiedhiminthesamespotasherparent’sashes.Whatshewouldn’tgive
tohearhissoothingvoiceoncemore.He’dalwayshadanswers.Alwaysprotected
her.Butshe’dlosthimeighteenmonthsago.Andheadbowedagainstthefamiliar
loss,shequickenedherpacepastthechurchandcrossedthecurvingmainroad.
TheonlyhintofBarrowdenefromtheoutsidewerethetoweringwhitegate
pillarsmarkingtheentrancetothedriveway.Buttheseweresetashortdistance
backfromtheroadandhalf-hiddenbehindtwotallsilverbirches.Theseven-foot
wrought-irongatesstoodwideopeninwelcomeinvitationforallandsundryto
enter.Mollyhadneverseenthesegatesclosed.Theymustbeatleastahundred
yearsold.Didtheyevencloseanymore?
Justpastthegatesstoodtheirgroundsman’sgatehouselookinglikeasquat
gnomeabodewithitsroundedwhitewallsandgreyslateroof.Nolightsshone
fromitssquarewindows,andnosmokecurledfromitslumpychimney.Thehouse
wasemptytoday.
MollyhurriedalongBarrowdene’slongdriveway.Rowsofspreadingoakand
beechtreeslinedthewideroadandformedadeepgreencanopyaboveher.And
straightahead,outlinedagainstlushgreeneryandclearbluesky,stoodtheimposing
Georgianhousewithitswhitefrontandrowsofpanelledwindows.
Reliefwarmedher.Barrowdenemightnotbelongtoher,butitwashome.
Shemadeherwayaroundthemainhousetothehousekeeper’scottage,grateful
thatshehadn’tseenasoulsofar.Atclosetoseveno’clockintheeveningthelarge
estateseemeddeserted.
RoseCottage,namedaftertheplum-sizedpinkandredrosesthatclimbedits
whitewallsandalmostreachedthethatchedroof,wasawelcomesight.Athin
plumeofsmokerosefromitsredbrickchimneyintotheblueAugustsky.Itlooked
likeNanwascookingsomething.
Mollypushedtheheavyfrontdooropen.Andsureenough,theboxyhallway
withitsbuttercreamwallsandstripedyellowcarpetwasfilledwiththerichscentof
herb-cookedmeat.
Thekitchenwasstraightahead,butavoidingit,sheboundedupthewooden
staircaseandspedtoherbedroom.Itwasoneoftwointhetinycottage,andjust
largeenoughforhersinglebed,wardrobe,adressingtableandachair.
Closingthebedroomdoor,sheleanedbackagainstitandletherracingheart
calmdown.
Thiswashome,andhereshewasn’tlost.Shebelonged.
Shekickedoffhershoes,andsinkingdownontothepaleoakfloor,stretched
herlegsoverthethick-pilewoolrugthatcoveredmostofthesquareroom.Muted
lavenderwallsandmisty-bluewoodenfurnituresurroundedher.She’dchosenthese
coloursasachildandhelpedhergrandfatherpaintherroom.Itwasplain,simple,
exactlywhoshewas.Butthatwasn’twhatBrianwanted.
Angerblazed,sendinghersurgingtoherfeet.Shewrenchedofftheturquoise
dress,notcaringifitrippedornot,andthrewittothebackofthewardrobe.It
couldstaythereandrot.Sheneverwantedtoseeitagain.
Shepulledonawhitecottonsundresspatternedwithtinyredrosesandstared
atherratherordinaryselfinthelongmirror.Tooshort.Tooslim.Toopale.She
wasnomatchforAbby,andsheneverwouldbe.Tearsthreatened,butasmallpart
ofherrefusedtocave,andsheraisedherchinindefiance.
Sowhat?Sowhatifshewasboring?Thiswaswhoshewas,andshewashappy
withit.She’dhaditwithrelationships.Shewouldneverputherheartoutthereto
betrampledon,everagain.
4
Thecottage’slittlekitchenwithitsbrightyellowwalls,whitewoodcabinets,and
wornoakflooring,glowedwithaherb-scentedwarmththathuggedMollywhenshe
entered.
Nanglancedupfromthesouppotshewasstirring.Hercurlywhitehairwas
piledhighinitsusualmessybun,anddespitethewarmth,sheworeherfavourite
pinkwoolshawloverasimplebeigedress.Pinksuitedher,givinghersoft
plumpnessacomfortinglook.
ShedroppedtheladleintothepotandcameandcaughtMollyinafiercehug.
“Iheard.He’sback,andhe’snotalone.”
ThefactthatNanalreadyknewwasn’tsurprising.NewsinApplebytravelled
fasterthanthespeedoflight.
Mollyrestedherheadonhergrandmother’sshoulders.“I’mleavingwellalone,
Nan.Iwantnothingmoretodowithhim.”
“Ofcourseyoudon’t,”Nansaid,strokingbackMolly’sunrulycurls.“Brianwas
neverrightforyou.Itoldyoumanyatimeoverthepastyearyouneededtomove
on.Still,it’sbetterlatethannever.AtleastI’llbesparedthespectacleofseeingyou
asMrsWilkinsandmarriedintoKathleen’ssideofthefamily.”
Withagiggle,MollykissedNan’scheek.“Whenyouputitthatway…”
ShesteppedbackandscrutinizedNan’sslightlyswollenleftleg.Itwasencased
incompressionstockings,andhadbeenforafewweeksfollowinganoperationto
removeavaricosevein.
Mollypulledoutoneoftheoakchairsbytheroundkitchentable.“Whydon’t
yousitdownandtakeiteasyontheleg?I’llfinishthesoup.”
“Fiddlesticks.I’vebeentakingiteasyallday.”Andignoringthechair,Nan
returnedtothesouppotonthestove.
ButoneglanceatthetabletoldMollytherehadbeennotakingiteasy.Two
largeshoppingbasketssquattedonit,overflowingwitharainbowoffreshfruitand
vegetables.“Allday,huh?Thenwhoboughtallthisstuff?”
“Clara.ShesentitalongwithNate.”
Mollyraisedhereyebrows.ClaraAinsley,Appleby’snosy-parkerpostmistress,
havinganythingtodowithNate,Barrowdene’scrankygroundsman,was
newsworthyindeed.“Andshedidn’tskinhimaliveintheprocess?”
Chuckling,Nancameandrummagedthroughabasket.“Hewassoberinthe
afternoon.Here,shesentyourmagazine.”ShehandedMollythelatesteditionof
PeriodHouse.“Itcameearly.”
Andinstantlyabsorbed,Mollyflippedthroughpageafterpageofeye-catching
photosofoldandstatelyhomes.
“ItwasClarawhophonedmeaboutBrian.”Nan’svoicefromthestove
broughtMollybacktothekitchen.“Accordingtoher,thenewgirl’squiteacatch,
andKathleenisoverthemoon.”
TrustClaraAinsleytoknoweverythingeverywhereimmediately.Molly
droppedthemagazineontothetable.“Hername’sAbby.Ididn’thangaroundto
findoutherhistory,butnodoubtClarawillbeanAbbyexpertbytomorrow,and
everyonewillknowmore.”
Nanregardedher.Sheneverworeglasses.Shedidn’tneedthem.Herglacial
blueeyes,darkerthanMolly’sown,alwayssawmorethanwhatwasthereonthe
surface.“Idon’tneedherhistory.Ineedtoknowthisisn’tapassingfancyof
Brian’sandyouwon’tbereeledbackin.”
“Itisn’t,andIwon’t.They’rehellbentongettingmarriedatStMary’ssooner
thansoon,andBrianandIaremorethanfinished.”
“Withthatlad,I’llbelieveitwhenIseeit.AndIhopeyoutoldhimexactly
whereyoustand.”Nanturnedbacktohersouppotwithafrown.“You’retoo
givingforyourowngood,Molly.Alwaysathisbeckandcall,andhecouldn’teven
decidewhetherhewantedtostaywithyouornot.Iknewwhenyoutookupwith
himsosoonafteryourgrandaddiedthatyouwerelookingforcomfort.ButBrian
wasnevertherightmanforthat.”ShelookedatMollythen,herfrowndeepening.
“He’sgonearoundwiththeimpressionheownsyoulongenough,butthatstops
now.Youareoff-limitstohim.”
ThememoryofthatkisssearedthroughMolly’smind,andunabletomeet
Nan’ssteadygaze,sheglancedatthebasketsonthetableinstead.“It’sover,Nan.
Youneedn’tworry.”Thenshequicklychangedthesubject.“Whydoyouhave
enoughfoodheretofeedthewholevillage?”
Nansighed.“Francine’scominghometomorrow,andshemayhaveguests
withher.”
Mollylookedupatthat.FrancineLamontownedBarrowdeneHouseandthe
severalacresoflandsurroundingit.Butsherarelystayedhere,preferringher
townhouseinSouthLondoninstead.TheinfrequentvisitssuitedMolly.Itmade
Nan’sjobashousekeeperthatmuchlighter.
“Guests?Howmany?”Mollyasked.
“Noidea.ButknowingFrancine,I’dsayonlyoneortwo.Still,Ithoughtitbest
tobeprepared.”
Mollyspedthroughamentalchecklist.“Thehousewillneedairing,new
linen…I’llaskMartintogivemethemorningofftomorrow.”
“You’lldonosuchthing!Yougetonwithyourjob.I’mperfectlycapable.”
Mollyopenedhermouthtoprotest,butNanheldupasilencinghand.“I’veaskeda
coupleofgirlsfromthevillagetodropbyinthemorningandhelp.”
“That’sarelief.Youshouldn’tbetiringyourself.Especiallywithyourleg
needingrest.”
“AndwhatwouldIdosittingaroundonmybacksideallday?Whatmyleg
needsisexercise.”Nan’sexpressionbecamewistful.“It’sashameFrancinenever
stayslongerthanadayortwo.Barrowdeneisafamilyhouse.Itneedspeopleinit.
WhenIwasfirsthere,youcouldfeeltheheartoftheplacewheneverthelittleones
cametovisit.ItwasthesamewhenyouusedtotoddleaftermewhereverIwentin
thehouse.YoualwayscheeredupEugenie.”
Mollysmiled.EugenieThomas,Francine’sstrictmaidenaunt,hadbeenthelast
inalonglineofThomasestoownBarrowdene.Eugeniehademployedasixteen-
year-oldinexperiencedNan,hand-selectedherfromahostofhopefuls.Thesour
oldladyhadsufferednofoolsanddemandedperfectioninallthings,butMollyhad
grownupseeingherasfamily.She’dspentmanyachildhoodeveninglisteningto
storiesofBarrowdeneandthepastatthefootofEugenie’srockingchairinfrontof
acosyfire.AfaintsadnesscrossedMolly.Everythinghadchangedtwoyearsago.
She’dwatchedthefortunesofthebighouseshiftafterEugeniedied,andthenagain
sixmonthslaterwhenherownbelovedgrandadtookhislastbreath.
Nantastedthesoupandgaveasatisfiednod.“That’sready.DidyouseeNate
onyourwayhere?”
“No,thegatehouselookedempty.”
Nantutted.“Thatman.He’llbedownthepubsoakingupmorethanthe
sunshine,Ibet.Gofindhim,child.Ineedhimatleasthalf-sobertoseetothe
gardensbeforeFrancinearrivestomorrow.Promisehimaheftyservingofthebest
beefsouphe’severtasted.”
“Thatshouldgethim.”Withagrin,Mollyturnedtogo.
“And,Molly,”Nansaid,makingherlookback.“KeepwellawayfromBrian.
Youdeservebetter.Lethimlieinthebedhechose.”
***
MollyreachedtheKing’sHeadPubtenminuteslater.Peoplestooddrinkingand
chattinginsmallclumpsoutfront.Itlookedlikenobodywantedtositinsidethe
oldbuildingwhilethesunstillbeckoned.Somepeoplewerevillagersandknownto
her.Othersweresummertouristswho’dmanagedtofindtheirwaytothepub.
Comparedtotherestofthevillage,TheKing’sHeadwaseasytofind.Itsat
outsidetheclusterofsmallshopsthatlinedMainStreet,rightonthecornerwhere
theroadcurvedpastSt.Mary’schurchandBarrowdene.Thevillagethoughwasa
rabbitwarrenofnooksandlanesthatspikedofffromthewidecentralMainStreet.
Ithadnostructure.Applebyhadstoodsincemedievaltimes,havingbeenknocked
downbyconqueringarmies,builtagain,thenlaterexpandedhiggledy-piggledyas
thearmiesdisappearedandfamiliesthrived.Itwasabeautifulsnarefortourists.
TheyusuallywanderedoffMainStreetandendedupgoingincirclesastheyooh’d
andaah’dattheorchardsandgolden-thatchedcottages.Anditwasonlyafterthey’d
passedthesamelimestonecottagethreetimesthattheythoughtofknockingona
doorandbeggingforhelp.
Mollynearedthepubentrancewhereagroupofmenwithpintsinhandstood
clusteredaroundthreemotorbikes.
Motorbikeswereacommonsightinsummer.Appleby’squietmainroadwas
muchadoredbybikerslookingtoracetheirinnerspeeddemonsthroughthelush
greenEnglishcountryside.AndtheKing’sHeadwasafavouritepitstop.
Onebikecaughthereye.Itsleatherseatswerecoalblack,anditssleekdark
bodyglintedwithfuturisticmalevolenceintheeveningsunlight.Itstoodoutamile
againstthetwosilverbikeseithersideofit.
“Triumph’sthebest,”oneofthemenpronouncedtohiscompanionsasthey
scrutinizedthedarkbike.“It’sabeast,itis.”
Beastlyexpensivetoo,nodoubt.Mollyslowedasshenearedthebike.Itwasn’t
entirelyshinyandbrandnew.Thewheelsandbasewerespatteredwithmudand
dustasifithadbeenwell-riddenthatday.Theownerhadtobefromthecity,a
youngfinancierorbankershe’dbet.Someonewhoworesmartsuitstotheoffice
andpouredhimselfintotough-lookingbikeleathersonhisdaysoff.She’dseen
plentyofthem,charmingandinsincerefromtheendsoftheirperfectlycoiffedhair
tothetipsoftheirpolishedboots.Theyseemedtothinkanywomaninthevillage
belowtheageofthirtywouldjumponthebackoftheirbikesatthemerestflashof
theircash.
Themensawherandsmiledornoddedtheirhellosbeforereturningtotheir
once-overofthebikes.Mollybreathedasmallsighofreliefasshepassedthem.
Therehadbeennoknowingorpityintheireyes.NewsaboutBrianandhisnew
fiancéehadn’treachedthepubyet.Itwasonlyamatteroftimethough,butatleast
she’dbeleftalonetoday.
“Molly!Iwasabouttocallyou.”Anna,Sophie’syoungersister,rushedoutof
thepub.
AnnahadSophie’scolouring,butthesimilaritiesendedthere.Electric-blue
streakedthefrontofAnna’spixie-cutdarkhair,andherbottle-greeneyessparkled
withafierceindependencenotseeninSophie’ssofterones.Thefactthatshe
workedasabartenderinthepubexasperatedhermother,Kathleen.Mollyoften
suspectedthatwasexactlywhyAnnahadtakenthejob.
Mollyquickenedhersteps.“What’swrong?IsitNate?”
“Yeah,it’sNate.”Annaswipedherhandsontheblackbarapronwrapped
aroundhergaminehips,andgrabbingMolly’sarm,pulledherintothehalf-empty
pub.“He’sgoingmentalouttherewithsomecustomers.You’dbettergethimoff
theirbacks,ortheladsherewillgetinvolved.”
Shedidn’treleaseMollyuntiltheyreachedthepub’scrowdedbackgarden.
Thesmokysmellofbarbecuedmeatmingledwiththedullsweetnotesofbeer
andcider.Everyroundwoodentablewithitsfourchairswasoccupied,andallthe
colourfulparasolswereopen.
Natestoodbesideanearbytablewherethreemenandawomanwereseated.
Theywereallstaringathimlikehewasagiantslugthathadjustcrawledoutofthe
greeneryandthreatenedtodiveintotheirdrinks.
“Yeralltalk,yertype,”heslurredtoabroad-shoulderedmanwhosatwithhis
backtoMolly.“Ifyougottheguts,let’sshowtheli’lladywho’stherealmanshe’ll
bewantingtospendthenightwith.”
ThemanshottohisfeetandtoweredoverNate.Andcatchingsightofthe
man’sface,Mollycouldonlystandandgape.
Hewasbeautiful,likeagoldenMichelangelostatuecometolife.Hischiselled
features,sharpcheekbones,andstraightnose,evenhislipslookedlikethey’dbeen
lovinglycarvedfromlivingmarble.Honey-goldhairsweptoverlongacrosshis
browandnearlytouchedthebaseofhisneck.Thesamegoldreflectedinthehint
ofbeardcoveringhisstrongjaw.
Ensnared,Molly’sgazecontinueddownwideshouldersbeneathafittedwhite
t-shirt,tighthipsinruggedleathertrousers,andendedatheavy,dustybikerboots.
Shehadnodoubtshe’djustfoundtheownerofthemeanmachineoutfront.
WithaglareforNate,themantookasmallstepforward.Heclenchedhis
handsintofistsathisside,andthecordedmusclesinhisarmsflexedandbunched.
Nateteeteredintoafightingstanceandwaggledhisscrawnyfistsintheair.
“Comeonthen,prettyboy.I’llrearrangeyerfaceforyou.”
AndMollysnappedoutofhertrance.
“No,Nate!”Shecriedandflungherselfbetweenthem,onlytolandinthe
firinglineofanamber-greenstarethatthreatenedtostripthefleshfromher
bones...
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