Say It with Diamonds

by Lucy King

  ‘Years ago. When I was twenty-three.’

  ‘But why? What happened?’

  He twisted away from her. ‘I don’t really want to talk about it.’

  ‘Well, that’s tough,’ she said, moving back into his line of vision. ‘Because I do. I’ve just told you I love you. The very least you can give me is an explanation as to why you can’t do the same.’

  ‘There isn’t a lot to explain.’

  ‘Then it shouldn’t take long.’

  ‘Fine,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘I had a girlfriend. I was unfaithful to her. End of story.’

  Definitely not the end of the story. ‘Why?’

  He glanced at her and frowned. ‘What difference does that make?’

  ‘It makes all the difference in the world, because I don’t believe you’d sleep with someone else for the sake of it.’ Despite currently behaving like a stubborn idiot, he had far too much integrity. If he had been unfaithful then there must have been a very good reason for it.

  Will shoved his hands through his hair. ‘Tania and I went out for around six months. She was bipolar. Not that either of us knew then. In my naivety I thought she had one of those extreme personalities. When she was on a high it was thrilling and I was only too happy to go along for the ride.’ He shrugged. ‘But then she started behaving strangely. Going off on her own and drinking more. For a while I thought it might have had something to do with me.’

  He gave her a melancholic little smile and her heart twanged. ‘It couldn’t have been you.’

  ‘I know. At the time, though, I didn’t know what to believe. My mother had just died and my father started being difficult, not that that’s any excuse. Anyway, the depression spiralled out of control so swiftly … I guess I didn’t know how to cope. I just sort of unravelled.’

  Bella’s throat stung. ‘You were young.’

  Will sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Not that young. I should have been able to handle it. Instead, after one particularly harrowing weekend I went to a bar, drank myself into oblivion and woke up in a stranger’s bed.’

  And he was still riddled with guilt. It was in his eyes and in his expression. ‘What happened after that?’

  ‘I immediately went round to her flat and confessed everything.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘We split up. She moved in with her parents and I went to the Cayman Islands.’

  ‘Did you ever see her again?’

  Will nodded. ‘A couple of years later we met up for a drink when I was here for a conference. We talked. She’d got a lot better and told me she didn’t blame me. That she’d have probably done the same if the roles had been reversed.’

  Bella tilted her head and wished there were something she could say to take away the guilt and the torment filling his eyes. ‘Everyone makes mistakes, Will. Especially when they’re young.’

  ‘Yes, but not quite like the one I made.’

  She tilted her head. ‘Well, no. But you don’t seriously think you’d do it again, do you?’

  His expression turned bleak. ‘It’s not a risk I’m prepared to take.’

  Bella’s heart wobbled as the world seemed to stop turning for a moment. ‘Ever?’

  ‘Ever.’

  ‘Then I feel sorry for you. Because based on a very specific set of circumstances that took place years ago you’re depriving yourself of the chance to find true happiness. And that’s a tragedy.’

  His jaw was set, his expression implacable. ‘How can you say that with such certainty? How can you can believe in love and faith and happily ever after when you’ve never had it?’

  ‘Because I’m an optimist. Because I know it’s out there and I’ve seen it. And because I don’t let my past rule my life. I don’t run and hide when my demons leap in front of me.’

  Will shrugged and his eyes went bleak. ‘Then you’re stronger than I am.’

  That was ridiculous. She’d never seen strength like his and to see him not want to fight for them was agonising. ‘She forgave you, Will,’ Bella said, silently pleading with him to give them a chance. ‘Why can’t you forgive yourself?’

  ‘I just can’t.’

  And with those three words all her hopes and dreams crashed to the ground, smashing into smithereens at her feet while her heart splintered into a million pieces. ‘I see,’ she said, somehow managing to pull her shoulders back and give him a shaky smile because she couldn’t let herself fall apart in front of him. ‘So this really is it.’

  He nodded. ‘It really is.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  OF ALL the ways to spend a Saturday, attending a wedding when she was feeling so miserable and wretched wouldn’t have been her number one choice, thought Bella bleakly, staring at the flowers at the front of the church and swallowing back the ball of misery that seemed to be lodged in her throat pretty much permanently these days.

  She really hadn’t wanted to come. Not when she was feeling so listless, so lacking in energy and sparkle and so damn sad.

  But Phoebe, who’d prised the whole sorry story out of her over a bottle of wine one evening—thankfully managing to refrain from battering her with a string of ‘told you so’s—had begged her to think about it, and in the end she’d refused to let her wretchedness spill over onto her friend’s happiness.

  So she’d hauled on a suitable outfit, slapped on several gallons of anti-puffiness eye cream and an entire tubeful of highlighter, and here she was. Sitting several pews back from the altar, next to one of the many single eligible men Phoebe had told her were in attendance, and trying to focus on the colourful array of hats instead of the ache in her heart.

  At least there wasn’t any danger of bumping into Will, she thought dully. Phoebe had told her that he’d sent an email from the Cayman Islands saying he wouldn’t be able to make it, and Bella had managed to convince herself that this was a huge relief.

  How she’d got through the last fortnight she’d never know. At first, like a fool, she’d envisaged scenarios in which Will came to his senses, pitched up on her doorstep, told her he’d been an idiot and swept her into his arms. Because she’d been so sure he loved her, so sure that they’d connected in a way that went far deeper than sex.

  But how wrong she’d been. He hadn’t pitched up on her doorstep and swept her into his arms, and as the days had passed she’d sunk further and further into despair. Work had been impossible and wafting around her flat, every inch of which held one memory of Will or another, had been agonising.

  Eventually, unable to stand London and moping around it any longer, Bella had gone to stay with her mother. After a couple of days, however, the goats and the homoeopathic advice had got too much and she’d come back because no amount of arnica could heal her battered soul.

  It was so frustrating, she thought as her heart squeezed and her vision blurred. She knew she and Will could have been happy together if only he’d given them a chance. Why couldn’t he see that nothing in life was guaranteed? That nothing was certain. That all that anyone could hope for was to have love and respect and trust, and hope that that was enough.

  She really didn’t want to have to come to terms with the fact that Will, the stubborn jerk, might be too damaged by what he’d done to ever let himself get close to anyone ever again. But what alternative did she have?

  The image of his face, his smile, the light in his eyes when he shot her a glance, floated into her head and her throat tightened. She hiccuped and stared determinedly at the ceiling. At least here if she burst into tears, as she was prone to do at the drop of a hat, everyone would think she was overcome with emotion at the happiness of the occasion.

  With any luck, she told herself as the organ struck up and she got to her feet, within an hour or so her emotions would be overcome with champagne.

  What in God’s name was he doing here? Will wondered for the millionth time, shifting on the pew at the back of the church and running a finger around the inside of his collar. He was supposed to be at h
ome. Five thousand miles away. Working. Or at least trying to. At the very least he was supposed to be staying away and giving Bella the chance to get over him, the way he was getting over her.

  So what had made him leap up from his desk at three o’clock yesterday afternoon and tell his team that they’d be holding the fort for the next few days? What had made him pay a fortune for a last minute plane ticket to London, grab his morning suit and instruct his butler to prepare the house for him? And what had made him take a trip to Bond Street the second he’d landed?

  It was so rash, so out of character, that it scared the hell out of him. But then he couldn’t remember the last time that his behaviour had been in character.

  Nor could he remember a time when Bella wasn’t in his head.

  Getting over her? Ha. That was a joke. So much for telling himself as he watched her walk away the evening they’d parted that the memory of her would fade. So much for convincing himself he’d done the right thing. That he’d been protecting them both.

  The anguish in her eyes and on her face when he’d told her that he wouldn’t ever risk loving her had been haunting his dreams. The accusations she’d flung at him had been battering away at his brain constantly until he’d been forced to acknowledge that walking away might not have been the right thing to do at all.

  Bella, on the other hand, had been right about everything. How could he ever have thought that there was nothing special about her? How could he ever have convinced himself that he’d have spilled his guts about his parents and the truth about the collection to anyone? How could he have been so blind? How could he have rejected everything she’d offered?

  God, he was sick of running and hiding. He was sick of being alone and tired of the endless guilt. Didn’t he deserve a stab at happiness? Didn’t Bella? Didn’t everyone?

  Look at Alex, standing at the altar looking down at Phoebe as if they were the only two people in the church, and saying the vows that Will had always been so sceptical about. There was no way Alex could be certain that what he had with Phoebe was going to last. No way he could know that he wasn’t going to let her down ever.

  But maybe that was the point, Will thought, the blood pumping around his veins a fraction faster than normal as all the random strands of thinking he’d unwillingly done over the course of the last few weeks merged into one.

  Maybe no one could ever know anything for certain. Maybe if you loved someone enough, if you’d found everything you’d ever wanted in that one person, you just had to take a leap of faith. Maybe if you believed in yourselves and each other, you could get through anything.

  He rubbed his chest as his stomach churned and his head pounded and all the hopes and dreams he’d managed to bury for years sprang to life. His pulse began to thunder as the possibilities opened up before him and for the first time in his life he caught a glimpse of what he could have if only he gave himself a break.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  Will blinked and turned to the elderly lady on his left.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ he murmured. He didn’t think he’d been all right for quite a while.

  She brought out a flask from beneath her coat and offered it to him. ‘Brandy. Have some.’

  ‘No, thanks,’ he said, with the hint of a smile. He didn’t need brandy. He didn’t need anything. Except Bella. God, how he needed her.

  But was it really that simple? Would Bella ever forgive him for being such a stubborn, selfish fool? Or had she got over him and moved on days ago?

  Blind panic speared through him at the thought that he might have screwed everything up for good and his whole body went cold. And then he forced himself to calm down, because that was not an option. In fact the sooner he sorted this out, the better, he thought firmly, scouring the congregation for her and desperately hoping he hadn’t left it too late.

  And then he saw her. Sitting on the other side of the church looking wan but gorgeous and staring at the ceiling and Will realised with a blinding flash of clarity that it was that simple and he knew exactly why he’d come.

  He’d deliberately blown one chance of happiness. He didn’t intend blowing another.

  Bella clutched at her glass of champagne and wished it were a bucket to which she had the only straw. Her face ached with the effort of maintaining the rictus grin she’d been wearing for the last half an hour, and she wasn’t sure she could manage much more in the way of chat. She congratulated the bride and groom, who looked so happy that it made her heart bleed with both delight and, she was ashamed to admit, envy, and that was the main thing. Now she could drink herself into oblivion without having to worry about sounding sensible. She took another sip of her second—or was it third?— glass of champagne and tuned out of the conversation rattling around her.

  Maybe she’d get a cat. A cat didn’t have problems with trust and obstinacy and forgiveness, did it? No, you knew where you were with a cat. They were simple creatures. Unlike men. Unlike Will …

  Bella’s heart lurched and she squeezed her eyes tight shut against the images that flickered through her head. Damn. There he was again. Invading her head, the way he did all the damn time.

  Well, she was sick of it. Utterly sick of it. She’d had two weeks of feeling like this and she was fed up with it. She’d had enough of the constant misery, the agonising pain that relentlessly gnawed away at her and the hopeless sense of despair that accompanied her everywhere she went.

  Why should she be doomed to a life of singledom just because of Will’s emotional cowardice? She glanced around and took another sip of champagne. How many single eligible men had Phoebe said there were here this evening? A dozen? Two dozen? Surely one of them would be a fan of commitment and relatively baggage free.

  So she’d chat and flirt and have fun for a change. Maybe even throw herself on the dance floor later and shake her groove.

  Oh, yes, she thought, holding out her glass to be refilled by a hovering waiter. She was going to get over Will, come hell or high water. Because what option did she have? Was she going to spend the rest of her life pining after him? No, she was not.

  One thing was for sure though. She was done with emotion. Emotion made you unstable and unpredictable, and only led to heartbreak. So from now on she was going to be practical. Ruthless. She’d take no prisoners. Break some balls. She was going to—

  ‘Bella.’

  At the sound of the voice behind her Bella froze and whatever she’d thought she’d been going to do went clean out of her head. All her blood rushed to her feet and she swayed. Her stomach leapt, her heart lurched and the room swam. Oh, no. Please, no. Not again.

  She closed her eyes and tried not to panic. Maybe she’d imagined Will’s voice. Maybe to add insult to injury she’d finally lost her mind. Because he was supposed to be on the other side of the planet, wasn’t he? Conquering the day-trading world or whatever it was he did and cowering behind his hang-ups.

  But while her imagination had been pretty active recently, it wasn’t so good that it could conjure up the intoxicating scent of him. Or the heat of his body. Or the familiar instant response of her body.

  Slowly she turned, her heart beating so hard she feared it might leap out of her chest, and thought frantically about how she was going to handle this.

  ‘Oh, Will, hi,’ she said brightly, deciding that ‘greeting an old friend’ and acting as if his appearance at the wedding didn’t mean a thing to her was the way forward.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, his eyes dark and unfathomable and fixed unwaveringly on hers.

  Bella held herself still, which was hard when every cell in her body longed to fling itself at him. It had only been a couple of weeks since she’d last seen him but it felt like a century and despite everything it was so heavenly to see him. Even though he looked haggard and exhausted.

  Ignoring the urge to stroke the weariness from his face, Bella injected some much-needed steel into her spine. ‘I didn’t think you were planning to be here.’

  ‘I wasn�
��t.’

  A tiny spark of hope rushed through her at the thought he’d come to see her and she stamped it out. Ruthlessly, of course, because she was done with emotion, wasn’t she? She twisted the glass in her hands and then made herself stop it. ‘So how are the Cayman Islands?’

  ‘Still there.’

  ‘And work?’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘How nice.’

  ‘I’m thinking of transferring my business back here.’

  Bella’s heart leapt. ‘Oh?’ she said, unable this time to obliterate the hope that his decision might have something to do with her.

  Will nodded. ‘Running the dukedom from so far away is proving tricky.’

  Her heart sank and she wished she could kick herself. See? This was why she had to be practical instead of emotional. Emotional simply hurt too much. ‘I can imagine.’

  He stared at her and for some reason her heart began to thunder despite her attempts to tell it not to. ‘Although it’s not just that.’

  ‘No?’ Her mouth went dry.

  ‘No.’

  So what else was it? she desperately wanted to know. But he didn’t elaborate and no way was she going to ask.

  ‘Great wedding, don’t you think?’ He gave her a faint smile and she felt like kicking him, because he must know he was rubbing a ton of salt into a raw open wound.

  ‘The best,’ she said, furious with the way he could still make her feel. ‘A top London hotel, fabulous food and drink and a twenty piece swing band. What could be better?’

  ‘They look happy,’ he added, looking over to where Alex and Phoebe were gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes.

  ‘They are.’ And then anger and frustration surged through her. Because what was all this about? Did he have any idea of the distress he was causing her by just being here? ‘So why did you come, Will? I didn’t think you did weddings.’

  Will rubbed a hand along his jaw and shrugged, as if it was a mystery to him as well. ‘Neither did I. Now I do, we need to talk.’

  What for? So he could tell her again how he couldn’t risk a relationship with her? No way. ‘No, we don’t.’