‘You think the book itself was imbued with importance?’
‘For me, yes. It deserved to be treasured—for itself, for the care between the two people. It shouldn’t have been forgotten.’
‘You don’t think it stayed perfect because no one picked it up? Maybe it was put on a shelf and ignored for decades?’
‘Why do you need to destroy my dreams?’ She shot him a baleful look. ‘Why can’t I believe?’
He felt bad for suggesting it—but he doubted that the pristine condition of her book meant it must have been treasured. He’d long ago discovered that perfect facades, perfect stories, often hid horrible lies. But Merle still believed in generosity and sincerity, in humanity and kindness. She was genuine. And she believed in the gift of love from one person to another, even though she’d been neither a giver nor a recipient of much herself. For all of her self-protective measures, she was a romantic. And that tendril of doubt, of hesitation, turned to a touch of remorse.
‘Did you like the actual story?’ he teased. ‘Did you even read it?’
‘Of course I read it and I loved it.’ She tilted her chin defiantly. ‘Jane had a tough time, but she was strong and true to herself.’
‘So you still have it?’
She nibbled her lip and put the bowl down on the table. ‘I took it everywhere with me. I was sixteen and okay, yes, I was idealistic. It was just Grandad and me and I guess I was lonely and it became like a talisman of something...’
Of hope? Ash couldn’t speak for the sudden ache in his chest. Concern for her grew, because he knew too well that things rotted and relationships were ripped away. That was reality. So something bad had happened to her lovely book. ‘What happened?’
‘I got a little lonely and made a fool of myself with a guy in my class. He started paying attention, acting as if...’
Ash tensed as she shrugged sheepishly. He had the horrible feeling he knew where this was going.
‘I was gullible.’ She confirmed the basis for his anxiety. ‘I was easy pickings for a guy like him.’
‘Like him?’
‘Good-looking, popular...he had everything.’ She frowned. ‘Though I know he probably didn’t, no one has everything all of the time.’
‘Not even us privileged rich boys?’
Her smile quirked. ‘He was curious about my book. I didn’t realise people had noticed that I always had it. That they wondered about it. I was just oblivious to all that. He asked to borrow it. I’d inspired him to read it, apparently. I was flattered and I didn’t want to deny him. Maybe he didn’t realise how precious it was to me.’
‘Don’t let him off lightly, Merle,’ Ash muttered. ‘He knew.’
And Ash knew how it was to be young and thoughtless.
‘Yeah. They all did.’ She looked at him sadly. ‘There was a clique, you know? I asked for it back days later. He laughed even as he said sorry. He said he’d lost it. He’d put it in his sports bag and it must have fallen out or something.’
‘You don’t believe him?’
She shook her head. ‘I think they just wanted to know what it was and why I always had it. Maybe they thought it might’ve been a secret diary and they wanted to mock my innermost thoughts. Maybe they were just mean.’
It hadn’t been a precious diary, but it had mattered as much. She’d cared about it.
She’d given the idiot something that was precious to her and he’d trampled it—crushing her fledgling trust in the process. And she’d scuttled back into her corner, hiding in the shadows and attempting that damned invisibility.
‘It was the deceit that got to me.’
Ash’s chest tightened. He’d been deceitful. He’d cheated. And he’d hated how bad he felt for it. ‘I won’t lie to you, Merle.’
‘I know. You value honesty.’ She glanced at him sombrely. ‘Someone lied to you.’
‘Yes.’ That was true. Yet he felt as if he was letting her down by not being completely honest now. ‘But I’ve lied too,’ he added. ‘I was just like that jerk. When I was that age I was awful.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I cheated.’
Her eyebrows lifted. ‘You were in a relationship at that age?’
It had hardly been a relationship. ‘She wanted more than what I could give her and I was a coward.’
Merle paled. ‘But you’ve learned your lesson?’
‘Oh, yes, I’ve never done it again. Never will.’
She nodded slowly.
Amazed, Ash stared at her. She’d just accepted his word? She was too forgiving of shabby treatment. Too generous. But his mistake couldn’t be forgiven by the one person who mattered most. It wasn’t Rose—his ‘girlfriend’—who’d suffered the most, though her humiliation had been total. It was his mother who he’d destroyed with his selfish carelessness. The truth he’d discovered then was that he was less. He didn’t have Merle’s depth of compassion. He didn’t have her ability to hold someone’s precious feelings—not their heart. He never had, never would. Because he was his father’s son.
Normally he didn’t think about it. He lived in the moment, lived by the rules he’d designed to keep everyone else safe. Because he’d learned who and what he truly was and he wasn’t hurting anyone else again. Merle would be okay. She knew this was only for these few days. He’d made sure she understood. But he couldn’t resist his own curiosity about her—couldn’t help wishing he could make things better for her.
‘So was that the guy you meant when you mentioned you’d said yes once?’ he asked. ‘That was secondary school, Merle. There must’ve been something since.’
‘No one’s asked again.’
‘Maybe because you hide and avoid any situation in which that might become possible,’ he suggested softly.
‘Maybe because I’ve been busy,’ she said defensively. ‘I was looking after my grandfather, I was studying...and struggling financially, so I worked as well. There hasn’t been the time for fun.’
She was right and he was an idiot for assuming she’d have had the time to be as frivolous as him.
‘There’s time now,’ he said.
‘Yes.’ She lifted her head. ‘There is now. With you.’
And she was embracing it. Except being here with him was still within her safe boundaries. This was her with him, but still hidden. He wanted her to have more. And yes, he wanted to have more too.
‘Let’s go out,’ he said suddenly. ‘Dinner and dancing.’
She looked startled. ‘You mean like a date?’
‘Yeah, why not?’ He smothered his smile as he saw her hesitation. He bet there was a pro and con list leaping into her mind.
‘You really struggle to do nothing and relax,’ she said.
He laughed. ‘You really struggle to be seen. And to have fun. You ought to go out.’
‘So I know what to do for next time?’ she asked.
A cold ball clenched in his stomach. ‘So I get the pleasure of doing it with you first,’ he said huskily. ‘I want more of your firsts.’
Her eyes widened. For a moment he’d rendered her speechless.
Then she swallowed. ‘What kind of dancing?’
‘Any kind you want.’
She sank a little lower in her seat. ‘I don’t understand the appeal, to be honest.’
‘Of going out dancing?’
‘I saw the patrons at the clubs mum performed at and they were just... I don’t know. Were they having a good time?’
‘Have you never gone dancing yourself?’
‘I haven’t been in a club since I was a kid.’
‘Your mother warned you off?’
‘Sometimes the guy lingering around the stage door thought the back-up singers might be available for other services if their offer was enticing enough. Then my grandmother was all, don’t make a mis
take like your mother. Sex is bad and shameful and men are dangerous. You’re too young...’ She laughed bitterly. ‘What chance did I have, really?’ She tossed her head. ‘But I’m not too young now. I know they both had baggage. I don’t have to carry it for them. Sex can be fun and feel good and doesn’t need to be over-complicated or over-emotional, right?’
The problem was this didn’t feel all that uncomplicated to him. This was the most complex relationship he’d had with anyone—in years. And yet in some ways it was the easiest.
‘We’re definitely going on a date,’ he said.
‘We definitely don’t need to do that,’ she said, but then an alarmed look crossed her face. ‘Are you bored?’
‘Of course not.’
She didn’t relax. If anything, she looked more concerned. ‘I don’t want you doing this because—’
‘There’s a difference between pity and simply sharing an experience with someone,’ he interrupted her.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘You wanted quiet and solitude.’
‘I’m talking one night, Merle.’
‘Always it’s “one night” with you.’ She pulled a face. ‘But we’ve been on a date—when we went boating the other day.’
‘Not the same thing. We’ll fly to Auckland. Have dinner and stay the night. We’ll return early the next morning.’
She still didn’t say yes.
‘Have you ever dined at an award-winning restaurant?’ he cajoled. ‘One with a live band?’
‘As opposed to a dead one?’
‘Ha-ha.’
‘If it’s so amazing, how are you going to get a booking at such short notice?’
He just smiled at her.
‘Really?’ She folded her arms across her chest and raised her brows. ‘Money talks?’
‘Generally speaking, yes.’
‘Yet you couldn’t find alternative accommodation for me so easily the other night, for all your money.’
‘True,’ he acknowledged. ‘But you have to admit that’s ended up working in my favour.’
He was ridiculously pleased to see she still blushed.
But she tilted her chin. ‘Not even you can wear swimming shorts to dinner.’
‘I’ll have a suit delivered to the hotel.’
He suppressed his amusement at the stunned expression that flitted across her face. Then her expression fell. Her next worry was already evident.
‘You want me to wear coveralls to a fancy restaurant?’
‘You can wear whatever you want,’ he answered easily. ‘I’ll find you as delectable as ever.’
She gazed at him and sighed, almost sadly. ‘You do it so easily, you’re not even aware of it.’
‘Do what?’
‘Seduce me into saying yes.’
CHAPTER NINE
ASH LEANED BACK against the table, drumming his fingertips on the wood behind him and debating whether he ought to knock on the door and ask if she was okay. She’d been locked in the bedroom of their hotel suite for over an hour. Was she worrying? Was she literally hiding again? He felt uneasy and he never felt uneasy. But she’d been taking too long. He straightened up, deciding to go, and then the door opened. Adrenaline blasted, stopping him dead. He was only able to stare.
‘What are you wearing?’ he croaked.
He’d not meant to say that. Not meant to question her choices or sound judgmental and make her self-conscious. But her smile flashed. Not just any smile—brilliant, unguarded, a tiny bit self-satisfied—so he knew she’d not taken his moronic question any of those wrong ways. She’d heard the underlying truth—he was stunned and too caught up in staring at her to care.
‘I like how it feels,’ she said.
Anticipation tightened every muscle. His beautiful secret sensualist was wearing a jumpsuit unlike anything he’d ever seen. A week ago he’d never have thought he’d find any kind of coveralls sexy, yet here it was happening again. But these weren’t for protective purpose. They were scarlet and silk and sleeveless, and skimmed her body, clinging to the fullest points of her curves. The deep vee drew his eye and the fabric flowed as she walked towards him—in scarlet high heels to match. She’d left her hair loose so it hung down her back in a rich brunette swathe. Impossibly, her skin was even more radiant. She’d look less visible in a little black dress that revealed far more skin. This was so much better than that. This was Merle doing her thing, her way. The smile in her eyes felled him all over again.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
‘I don’t think so.’ He groaned, literally backing away from her. ‘We’d better go.’
He barely noticed the restaurant, barely tasted the food, was barely aware of the service or of anyone else present. He could only see her. He didn’t know how he kept up with her banter. It was as if his brain had been stupefied.
‘Will you dance with me?’ he asked, unable to sit still a second longer.
For the first time all evening doubt shadowed her eyes. ‘It might be more stand and sway than spin, okay?’
Stand and sway sounded perfect. He ached to get his hands on her—to anchor himself, to ensure she was real. As they walked towards that darkened area, he was aware of heads turning. Of course people looked—she was stunning. But it hauled up other concerns. While he wanted the world to appreciate her, he also wanted to keep her to himself. Suddenly he felt possessive.
Even here in Auckland he was recognisable. The media in Australia had followed him for years. When he’d first turned his back on his father he’d welcomed the stupid society gossip blogs, annual most-eligible lists, relentless speculation and stories, all fuel to which he was the flame, to shame his father. But he didn’t want Merle exposed to any negativity. If people found out what he’d been up to this week? It could totally be construed as a scandal. He’d seduced an innocent. Kept her in his holiday home to be his lover. It sounded as bad and mad as if he’d locked her in that damn bunker.
Wasn’t it worse than humiliating Rose? Never had he been as selfish. But Merle was an adult—she’d asked. She’d wanted and she’d taken. This was a scandal they’d both desired and they were both determined to make the most of. But he couldn’t help pointing out the problem to her.
‘People are watching,’ he muttered. ‘Are you okay with that?’
‘Oh, I’m fine.’ She grinned. ‘They’re watching you.’
They were not.
‘Okay—’ she shot him a sideways look, together with an impish grin ‘—they’re looking at me too. But I don’t mind.’
He’d wanted to spoil her. He’d wanted her to have a night where the spotlight was on and she could see she could do more than survive in its light. He’d wanted to see and feel the world through her perspective some more because that hope, that optimism she had, was tantalising when he’d lost his so long ago.
‘If you’d had cameras in your face all the time, trust me, you’d start to mind,’ he muttered.
‘Maybe.’ Merle nodded.
Right now she didn’t really care about anything—she was too busy basking in the glow of Ash’s attention. How he’d worked out that people were watching them she didn’t know because he’d not taken his eyes off her and it was thrilling. But it was more than his attention: it was his influence and his outrageousness that encouraged her own sense of liberation. He’d bluntly pointed out her right to speak up. That he lived and moved with such confidence inspired her to answer back, to be as blunt and as honest.
It wasn’t that she didn’t care about consequences, of course she did, but she wasn’t afraid of them in the way she had been for half her life. She felt alive, as if she had vitality and fight within her to stand not just beside him but also in front of him and be bold. It was invigorating. Enriching. Addictive. She spread her hand across his chest, feeling his tension, the powerful thump of his heart against her palm. Ash did
not stay still. He was full of vigour and vitality and humour. He had more energy than anyone she’d ever met—a freewheeling force of nature. But he’d been so careful with her. Tender. He’d channelled all that energy, focused it on her pleasure. There was nothing as seductive as all of his attention.
She’d not realised how stuck she’d become. How constrained. Why had she let things hold her back for so long? She’d not wanted to see the problematic issues from her upbringing but perhaps he’d been right about that too—that she’d made too many excuses for too long, ignoring the impact on herself. She loved her family and she knew they’d done their best but it hadn’t been easy for her—she’d not been the priority. But now she had absolute freedom and she could live her own life on her own terms. And she wanted to.
‘What are you thinking?’ Ash suddenly asked.
She glanced up at him and smiled.
His hold on her tightened. ‘You’re more luminous than ever.’
She laughed. ‘It’s the lighting in here.’
‘No.’ The question in his beautiful amber eyes was unrelenting. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’
How could she resist him anything when he looked at her like that?
‘That I’m happy.’ She blinked back a sudden burn behind her eyes. ‘I’m enjoying the freedom to do what I want. How I want. When and where and with whom I choose.’
And that was with Ash.
She felt the response ripple down his body. He wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t claim to be. He’d been honest—letting her know he had flaws and had made mistakes. And he’d made her appreciate that other people in her life hadn’t been perfect either. Despite her tendency to try to see the best, sometimes it was good to accept an honest assessment.
And honestly? She adored her new jumpsuit. She’d searched online and had it delivered direct to the hotel—living like Ash Castle himself. It had arrived on time and hadn’t even needed alterations. It was comfortable yet sexy and she didn’t regret blowing some of her pay on it. It had been so long since she’d done something for herself.
Aren’t you doing this for him?
Stranded For One Scandalous Week (Mills & Boon Modern) (Rebels, Brothers, Billionaires Book 1) Page 12
