‘Merle...’
The sorrowful but bitter rejection in his eyes stilled her. In an awful moment she realised just what she’d blurted out. There was no hiding. A horrible heat of humiliation swept up and smothered her. She was that naive fool all over again, believing that someone like him could ever be interested in her. Her anger seeped out because she’d taken a risk and lost. Because she’d humiliated herself. Because, despite that fact, she couldn’t believe that he didn’t feel this the way she did.
‘Don’t let him win, Ash,’ she muttered. ‘If you stay isolated? Never finding someone the way you should? Never having happiness and security? Never being loved and loving? That’s letting your father win.’
‘Merle...’
In the way he said her name she heard it all. The regret. The refusal. The rejection.
‘You told me to be honest,’ she chastised him bitterly.
Yet even though she hated this, she couldn’t regret the difference within her. She didn’t want to return to reticent, invisible Merle. She wanted to stay bold, stay ready to get stuck into life and love. Stay strong enough to make these stupid mistakes. Because maybe one day it wouldn’t be a mistake. She’d just wanted that day to be today. She wanted Ash.
‘You’re a romantic,’ he dismissed her. ‘And I’m an idiot for ever thinking you could handle this. I’m sorry.’
No. She rejected his assessment. She was not Rose. She wasn’t hoping—imagining—there was more to this than there really was. She’d seen it in his eyes. She’d felt it in his body as he’d moved in hers. And she was not letting him tell her otherwise.
‘You might deny your own feelings, but you don’t get to tell me my feelings aren’t real,’ she said. ‘This is special. What we have could be amazing. It is amazing.’ They were more than lovers. They were a match.
‘I have to leave.’
There was a pilot in that helicopter who could probably see her desperation in this pathetic scene in front of him, but Merle didn’t care.
‘You can’t. We’re still talking—’
‘There’s nothing more to say. There’s nothing here for me any more.’
Even though she didn’t believe him, she could see how badly he wanted to believe it. How badly he was fighting against listening to her. Fighting the tension within himself. It wasn’t easy. Which was why he’d arranged such an immediate escape. A quick goodbye because he was a coward. Because he wasn’t sure he could complete it?
Now he wouldn’t even look her in the eyes.
‘You told me I was too focused on seeing the good in people, that I didn’t want to consider how they’d treated me. That I avoided seeing that truth. But no one is as good at avoiding things as you are,’ she said angrily. ‘Why not face the problems, Ash? Why not try to fix them? Instead of hiding for ever and letting them grow so big they consume you? If you always run away, you’ll never find peace.’
Or love.
The waves of hurt kept coming as he didn’t acknowledge her words. He just moved, picking up the small leather carry-all from the deck and stepping away. It was shockingly, unnecessarily sudden.
‘You’re the one who can’t handle this,’ she said. ‘You’re the one eternally isolated by fear.’
His shoulders stiffened. ‘I have to go.’
‘Kiss me goodbye, then, Ash.’ She hurled the challenge at him. ‘I dare you.’
His face paled, his jaw clamped—highlighting even more his spectacular angular cheekbones. Sharp, and angry, and barely controlled.
Silence screamed between them. She held his gaze as he stepped nearer. But the flare in his eyes gave him away. Or at least she hoped it did. Angry as she was with him, she needed him to know her truth. This wasn’t a plea for him to stay any more. It was a pure expression of her own emotion.
I love you.
The press of his mouth on hers was hard, his lips compressed. Merle arched her neck, taking the almost bruising weight and then pushed back—with a softening of her own lips, with the slide of her tongue. She heard a choked sound in the back of his throat as he relented and released his hold on himself. And she stole in—all loving, passionate strokes. Warmth flowed, relief flooded in. Touching him like this? Feeling his rising response? Her heart soared. Love in a kiss. Love in a wordless, honest gift—
That he suddenly tore free from. He stared down at her, his breathing heavy. But he said nothing.
Reality slammed into her. She was never going to see him again. And she was angry with him for making her think even for a moment that she could have had more. That she could even dare ask for more. She went back to gripping the back of the damned deckchair. For support. To stop herself from following him and crying. From throwing herself in front of that damned helicopter in lovelorn desperation. To squeeze tightly to ride through the wave of pain as he turned and strode across that perfect tennis court that he despised.
They could’ve been more. They could have had more. They could have had everything that mattered. He couldn’t see that. He completely disagreed.
Which had to mean that she’d been wrong.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ASH STRIVED TO stay busy, setting himself a hellfire week of work. He read reports, organised face-to-face meetings, inspected new prospects. But whenever he thought he’d found the sweet relief of pure focus, an image flashed into his mind—a shot of her in the pool, the gleam in her eye at a mid-play move of a board game, a portrait of her smile. Stills that switched the rest of the world off, meaning he could see only that moment, feel again the ripple of pleasure...only to suffer a tearing ache the milli-second he realised it was a mere mirage. His sadistic mind spasmodically tortured him with emotion-drenched memories that were too deep and good to be real. And he couldn’t shut it off.
By midweek, he’d decided he’d reflect. Maybe if he remembered it all, if he methodically thought over every interaction, of every day, he could then compartmentalise it into his mental history box and move forward. But remembering made his skin burn hot and then goosebump. It made that tearing ache in his chest rip even wider. It made his breathing uneven and restlessness surge. He closed his eyes and willed for some perspective.
He wasn’t missing her.
Maybe he could class it as a warped holiday romance? That—particularly given the location—he’d succumbed to a complicated set of sensations. He’d sought physical escape from the horrible recollections and unhappiness of discovering how fundamentally the property had been changed...and the switch from misery to delight had been so intense he’d attributed more meaning to the pleasure he’d felt with her. The problem with that classification was the disservice to Merle. She was much more than a distraction. She was much more than someone he’d had good sex with. She was more than a moment in time.
By the end of the week he’d realised that yes, he missed her. With every breath, every beat of his heart, he ached with loss. Beneath that, a feral anger prowled deep, growing exponentially bigger. She didn’t contact him. He didn’t contact her. It had to be finished. It was for her benefit. And this misery he felt now, he deserved. Because she deserved more than him—in every way.
He hated who he was. Not good enough. Not committed enough. He would inevitably let her down. Better now than in the future though, when it would only be worse.
But her words—that declaration—tormented him.
Ask me for all my firsts...
On the Saturday following his return to Sydney, Ash arranged a brief meeting with his half-brother. There were issues that had been outstanding for too long, and somehow catching up with him felt more important than it ever had.
Leo was impeccably on time, of course. His starched white shirt hurt Ash’s jaded, sleep-deprived eyes. His half-brother was a half-inch shorter, neater and more legitimate-looking with his short hair and sharply fitted suit. So incredibly serious. There was only a glimmer of
a smile in his eyes as he joined Ash at the waterfront cafe for a coffee. It had been a few weeks since they’d last caught up. Their interactions were mostly via messages, and mostly they only discussed heavy decisions regarding the business.
‘You’ve been keeping well?’ Leo’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at Ash and took the seat alongside him.
The fact Leo had asked meant Ash knew he must look like death.
‘Yeah. Fine.’ Ash coughed the rasp from his throat and moved straight to business. ‘Thanks for arranging the archival work on Waiheke.’
Leo studied him impassively. ‘Have you considered the options for the property?’
Yes. Decisions needed to be made. It wasn’t fair on either of his half-siblings to drag out the process any longer. They’d already divided the proceeds from the other personal properties three ways. ‘I can’t sell that one. If you and Grace agree, I’d like to buy you out.’
He didn’t actually need their consent—the house was his. But he wanted to do right by them.
‘You want to keep the beach house in New Zealand?’ Leo didn’t look surprised. ‘Fine by me.’
Ash breathed out. He already knew Grace wouldn’t object. She’d been so appalled to discover her true lineage last year that she’d said she didn’t want anything from the estate at all. Ash didn’t blame her for that anger. But he refused to let her give up all of her claim. He’d transfer her share to her—what she then did with it was her choice.
As for the beach house? Selling it no longer seemed right. Merle’s assessment had hit a nerve. It shouldn’t be the preserve of one wealthy family—a paradise that only a few privileged people got to enjoy. Somehow he’d work out some way to restore some soul to it.
‘Are you sure you want to stay on at the company?’ he asked Leo.
He’d been astounded that Leo had stepped in to take over as CEO after their father’s death. When he considered that Hugh had refused to acknowledge Leo even after the DNA test had proven his paternity, the fact Leo had wanted to turn around the sliding fortunes of the company was impressive. Ash wouldn’t have been bothered to see the business fail. But the business supported so many other people...there was the rub. Leo had an intense sense of responsibility and honour that Ash respected. Though the fact that Leo had defiantly taken the Castle name while Hugh was alive enough to be apoplectic about it still made Ash smile.
Now Leo nodded. ‘I’m enjoying the challenge.’
Leo generally looked so serious; Ash wondered if he ever really enjoyed anything.
‘You have my full support, you know that, right?’ Ash grimaced. ‘If you ever need me to do something.’
‘I know.’ Leo sipped his coffee. Drinking strong coffee was a habit they shared. ‘You’re busy with your own empire though.’
‘That hasn’t stopped you managing two.’
Leo shot him some serious side-eye. ‘But I don’t have a social life or any other...distractions.’
Ash smiled and shook his head. Leo was a workaholic machine with no balance at all.
‘They’re not distractions.’ Ash tried to assume a semblance of his usual attitude. ‘They’re like mini-breaks. For medicinal purposes. All work and no play...’
But Ash didn’t believe his own words. He didn’t feel like having a social life ever again. Apparently he’d been cured of the penchant for frivolous one-night bursts of fun.
A frown furrowed Leo’s brow as he contemplated the depths of his coffee. ‘Actually...’ Leo suddenly glanced at Ash. ‘There’s a charity event at Kingston Towers tonight. Half of Sydney society is going to be there.’
‘Your ideal market,’ Ash noted.
‘But not my ideal night.’ Leo took a mouthful of coffee before releasing a sharp breath. ‘You don’t want to show up and help take the heat off me?’
Ash mirrored his half-brother and sipped the scalding black coffee to avoid speaking immediately. It was the first time Leo had asked him for anything, and it would be the first time in years that Ash showed up at a Castle Holdings event. It would be—in society and business pages—a notable occurrence.
His first impulse was to decline. Not because it was his father’s company—he saw it as Leo’s now. But because he’d felt a physical rejection inside at the thought of socialising. But he should accept. Maybe if he returned to his usual lifestyle, he’d feel better sooner. Maybe he’d made a mistake this week by staying isolated in his penthouse and at work. Maybe he needed to get back on the party horse...
That tearing ache in his chest widened. He finally recognised it as emptiness. And he knew speaking sassy nothings with a series of society babes on the never-ending party circuit wasn’t going to fill the void. But there was another reason, a far more important reason, to say yes.
He’d lived most of his life without knowledge of either of his half-siblings. Now he knew about them and, while Grace preferred not to engage, Leo was here. Maybe the two of them could make something more from the little they had between them? Ash could show up for Leo.
‘Sure,’ he said firmly. ‘What time should I arrive?’
Ash had regrets the moment he walked into the gorgeously decorated ballroom. The usual were present—the old money, the newly famous, the current influencers, the prettiest, the most ‘interesting’... Phones and cameras were everywhere—capturing the stunning set-up, glamorous make-up, fantastic food. Ash wasn’t hungry for any of it. But he could fake it with the best of them.
He had, he realised, been faking it for a long time now. Finally he realised everything he’d pushed so deep down for so long had floated back to the surface. And he had to face it. More than anything, he had to face what Merle had said to him. What she’d opened up in him. What she’d made him feel.
A sense of urgency swept over him.
He needed to go. He needed to—
Be there for Leo.
He slammed on his own brakes. He could build at least one better relationship in his life, couldn’t he?
He chatted to a few people before deciding he needed a glass of water to clear his head. On his way to the bar he passed by a redhead. He glanced again because there was something familiar in her slightly oddly angled stance. That was when he recognised her. She looked vastly different to the awkward girl who’d come to school all those years ago. With her black skirt and silk shirt and her hair tied back from her face, now she looked capable and confident.
‘Rose? What are you doing here?’ he asked before thinking better of it.
But she didn’t flinch or look embarrassed as he’d have expected from her. Rather her eyes widened and she actually smiled. ‘Ash Castle!’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s been ages.’
‘Yeah.’ He felt a little winded at her easy friendliness. Of all the people to bump into—why here and now after all this time? What was she doing here? ‘I’m sorry about what happened back at school,’ he suddenly blurted because it was right at the front of his mind. He instantly regretted it. What an idiot to bring that up in public.
Rose frowned in confusion, then he saw the penny drop. To his astonishment she actually giggled. ‘Oh, you mean that.’ She laughed again but then sobered and suddenly looked apologetic. ‘You poor thing, that must’ve been hell for you. Your mother was so unwell and none of us knew how bad it was.’
Um. Was she feeling sympathy for him?
‘Yeah, but I acted...’ He didn’t even want to say it.
‘Ash, that was years ago.’ There was no distress in her eyes, no embarrassment, no concern. She certainly wasn’t blushing. Because she really wasn’t bothered. If anything, her smile had grown bigger and more carefree. ‘Have you been feeling bad all this time?’
He hesitated.
‘Forget it,’ she said. ‘Truly.’
He’d thought he’d devastated her. That he’d blighted her life. He clearly hadn’t. She barely batted an eyelash about it
now. She didn’t look at him with any adulation, any interest even. Just courtesy. He mocked himself bitterly—it had been so arrogant of him to assume he’d truly hurt her. But he’d thought he’d really damaged her. The way his mother had been damaged. Had he confused the impact on Rose with the devastation his mother had felt? And his mother had so many other reasons to react so angrily, so devastatingly, to that foolish, selfish act. Everything had got jumbled up inside him, and he’d been so upset he’d thought of everything in extremes.
Now he’d never been so relieved to be wrong about something.
‘You seem really well,’ he said feebly.
‘I am, thanks.’ She glanced past him. ‘But I’m afraid I need to get going—there’s someone I really have to see.’
‘Yes. Of course.’
Yeah, she wasn’t interested in lingering to talk to him. She wasn’t interested in him at all any more. She’d grown up and moved on. Whereas he? He’d got stuck back there—in that hot mess of guilt and betrayal and hurt. But maybe he didn’t need to be there any more. Maybe he’d been an idiot.
He kept a grip on himself long enough to chat to a few more guests. From a distance he saw his half-brother shoot him an appreciative nod of the head. A few women smiled, ‘available and interested’ signals lighting their eyes. He smiled but kept his distance and talked up Leo’s new development plans some more as, inside, feelings crystallised into hard rocks of unavoidable truth.
Stranded For One Scandalous Week (Mills & Boon Modern) (Rebels, Brothers, Billionaires Book 1) Page 16
