by Nicola Marsh
‘You honestly think we can?’
His lopsided smile twanged her heart.
‘Worth a try.’
Lifting her hand, he brushed a kiss across the back of it and she sighed. Her pulse skipped through her veins, a reminder of how badly she’d like to renege on her previous stance and throw herself wholeheartedly into this fling. But she couldn’t do it, not when she knew it had moved beyond flirting for her, that she might actually care for him. No point getting in any deeper when he’d be out of her life in a week.
She wriggled her hand out of his and tapped her watch.
‘Right now, we’ve got a job to do and I need you to get me to that winery to do it.’
He searched her face—for the truth behind her reticence? For a sign she still wanted him?—before nodding.
‘Fine, I’ll let you off the hook.’
As he started the engine, glanced over his shoulder and pulled back onto the highway he added, ‘For now.’
* * *
Charli had organised several twilight concerts at wineries in the Yarra Valley just out of Melbourne, loved the informality of families sitting on picnic rugs, loved the wine tastings, loved the relaxed ambiance.
She’d had her doubts about Storm pulling off something like this—his whole snarky demeanour suited dark stages and pubs—but as he crooned out his last song, a ballad from his early days, she finally slumped onto a stool and took her first sip of a divine chardonnay.
‘He’s done well.’
A shiver shimmied down her spine as Luca pulled up a stool next to her, thigh-touching, arm-rubbing close.
‘Yeah, better than I expected.’
‘Yet you played the supremely confident role extremely well the last week.’ His admiration sent a flush of warmth through her. ‘Had me fooled.’
Yeah, she was good at that. She’d even fooled herself into believing nothing existed between them beyond a bit of harmless flirting.
‘Ready to head back to the apartment?’
Downing the rest of her wine in three gulps, she shook her head. ‘Actually, there’s been a change of plan. We’re driving to Echuca tonight.’
He frowned. ‘Tonight?’
‘Yeah, we’ve only got a few hours there in the morning with Storm’s signing and Tiger wanted to ride the paddle steamers too, so better if we head up there tonight and get an early start.’
All sounded very logical and Tiger really did want to take a ride on a paddle steamer, but the main motivating force for not spending another night in Bendigo was the fact she couldn’t face spending a night in the apartment with Luca.
The way she was feeling—in over her head, emotional, floundering—she’d rather take her chances in Storm’s bus!
Thankfully she’d rung ahead to Echuca during the concert and double-checked the booking for separate apartments, ensuring there were no natural disasters or other catastrophes that she had failed to hear about.
‘How far is it?’
‘About seventy minutes—a cruisy drive.’
‘Uh-huh.’
Wanting to get the rest out before she lost her nerve, she cleared her throat. ‘If you could drive my car, that’d be great, because I have some logistical stuff to run through with Storm.’
If she didn’t feel so lousy at fobbing him off, his raised eyebrows would’ve been comical.
‘You’re riding in the bus?’
His disbelief made it sound as if she were hitchhiking a ride to Mars.
‘Yeah, it’s the only comfortable place we can spread out the paperwork we need to go over.’
‘Right. Paperwork.’
A frown slashed his brow, his compressed lips a dead giveaway he was trying to hold back what he really thought of the new travel arrangements.
Eager to make her escape while the going was good, she slid off the stool and gathered up her work stuff. ‘Thanks, Luca, I knew you’d understand.’
Only problem was, she didn’t understand any of this, least of all how her heart seemed to be breaking just by walking away from him now.
Charli couldn’t do this any more. If she’d reached her limit yesterday, today had pushed her over the edge.
To her immense relief, Storm had been the model rock star: no tantrums, no come-ons, no crap—and that had just been on the bus last night. And this morning he’d breezed through another photo promo and CD-signing for local fans, wowing Echuca as he had Ballarat and Bendigo.
She couldn’t fault his work ethic since the unfortunate wine-bar incident and the fact they’d be heading back to Melbourne on a high that boded well for the upcoming concert.
No, Storm wasn’t the problem. But playing the good little tour manager right to the end was, and that meant she’d accompanied Storm and Tiger, with Luca tagging along, as they’d spent a few hours on a Murray River cruise, strolled through Moama market admiring the local crafts, tasting the local produce, all very touristy and laid-back and a good wind down after the hectic pace of the past week.
The major problem had come when she’d had to hang out with Luca and pretend the underlying tension between them didn’t exist. But it was there all the same, intangible yet ever-present, a taut wire ready to snap.
‘Have another scone?’
Luca pushed the plate towards her and she patted her tummy. ‘Thanks, but I’m done.’
A sign of how truly rattled she was, that she couldn’t squeeze in another of the best scones in the world served at the cosy Wistaria café. Back in Melbourne she could scoff two without blinking and the Devonshire tea served there wasn’t a patch on this.
If he sensed her reticence he didn’t show it. ‘What’s on the agenda when we get back to Melbourne?’
Anything, as long as it didn’t involve spending time with him.
‘Collating a final report on the tour. Preparing for the Melbourne concert.’
He rested his forearms on the table and leaned towards her, the knowing glint in his eyes alerting her to the fact he was far more astute than she gave him credit for.
‘If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re trying to get away from me.’
So much for subtlety. Deliberately relaxing into her chair, she shook her head.
‘It’s what I always do; collate everything on the last day so I can hit the office running tomorrow.’
‘Pop’s a slavedriver, huh?’
‘Hector’s a fair boss, always has been.’
‘Loyalty, I like that.’
She fidgeted with the edge of a lacy tablecloth, desperate to escape. She didn’t want to talk about her job or Hector or the music business. She needed to get away before it was too late and she fell under his spell just a little bit more.
Would Luca be so nonchalant if he knew the truth? Would he want to sit here if he knew how much she cared, if he knew she was in too deep? She doubted it.
‘Let’s go.’
She sounded abrupt but couldn’t sit here another second longer and, standing, she grabbed her bag.
‘Hey, slow down.’
He snagged her arm and she stiffened, hating it had come to this. A few days ago she’d yearned for his touch, would’ve melted at the briefest brush of his fingers. Now, his strong fingers wrapped around her forearm elicited a host of memories leading to one thing: she might be in love with a guy so totally wrong for her.
Ironic, she’d spent years trying to prove how different she was from her mother and in the end they might be more alike than she’d thought.
Falling for the wrong guy.
Depending on that guy for her happiness.
Hells bells.
‘Sorry, I really have to go.’
She yanked her arm free, ready to bolt when he stood.
‘Charli, this is crazy—’
She fled without looking back.
After his twentieth circuit of the old historic port, Luca knew he had to do something. Walking hadn’t taken the edge off and he’d explode if he didn’t head back to the apartments now and
confront Charli.
Though what was he going to say?
I’m sorry things ended this way?
I’m sorry for starting this in the first place?
I’m sorry for hurting you?
Because she was hurting. He could see it in her tense shoulders, in her pinched mouth, in the haunting emptiness in her eyes whenever she glanced his way.
That was what killed him the most, the fact she could barely look at him any more when they’d shared so many emotion-laden, spark-worthy, loaded stares before. She had the most beautiful green eyes he’d ever seen, the colour of the ocean off Nice on a summer’s day.
Sheesh, where was he getting this stuff? Must be turning soft. Had to be Charli’s fault. She brought out that side of him, made him want to be a better man when he was with her.
Pop was like that: old school, gallant. Luca liked to think he’d inherited some of his chivalry, the part that had bypassed his father.
Something twinged painfully in his chest, a stab of regret for what might have been if he hadn’t been so stubborn all these years and let Pop into his life more.
They’d spoken regularly on this tour, mainly business, and he admired the old guy, liked his sense of humour, his vibrancy, his no-bull attitude. If he hadn’t harboured so much resentment towards Rad maybe he could’ve had a closer relationship with Pop?
Damn Rad, damn him to hell for influencing his life despite how much he’d done to ensure the contrary. Even now, the way he’d botched things with Charli, it all came back to his past and how he struggled to emotionally connect with anyone. Which he’d liked just fine.
Until now.
He rubbed his chest, blinked and glanced around, surprised to find himself standing in the main street of Echuca. He’d never been a daydreamer—no point in imagining things that would never happen, his childhood had been testament to that—but everything about the past week, from teasing a smile out of Charli to sweeping her into his arms, had him fantasising about things he’d never considered.
A future.
With her.
Crazy, for a guy whose longest relationship consisted of a fortnight’s wining and dining, but there was something special about Charli and the way she lit up his life that prompted him to do something completely out of character and stick around for a while.
For how long? And what about his work? The charities? Her job? The logistics?
No, even contemplating spending more than another week in Melbourne had his head spinning. Which begged the question: apart from overseeing the finances for the rest of the tour, how would he spend his remaining time in Melbourne?
He knew what he’d like: to recapture the old magic with Charli and have a whoop-up time before he headed back to his well-ordered, well-structured life in London. But that would be tantamount to flinging himself off the top of a cliff without a tethering bungee rope.
He couldn’t risk it. If she already had him thinking beyond the next week, he’d already slipped up and allowed her to get too close.
Rather than contemplating spending time with her—yeah, as if she’d really go for that after the past few days—he should be concentrating on winding work up and heading back to London.
Yeah, that was what he’d do. Keep things platonic with Charli, finish up his financial duties and repay his debt to Pop, and head back to his well-ordered, well-structured life.
Easy.
The moment that one little word popped into his head, he remembered the way Charli had looked dripping wet in the Chinese Gardens, the way she’d matched him step for step as they’d crashed through that door into the apartment, the way she’d come apart in his arms repeatedly all afternoon, and he knew staying away from her over the next week would be anything but easy.
CHAPTER TEN
‘WHAT are you doing here?’
Charli jumped as Hector strode into her office, beaming smile welcoming. She wondered how long it’d last when he heard she’d snubbed his grandson and had every intention of maintaining her indifference during the rest of his stay in Melbourne.
It was the only way. She couldn’t afford to get any more involved than she already was.
‘The country tour was a bigger hit than we anticipated and I’ve got loads more to do to make sure we’re on top of the Melbourne concert.’
He studied her with the same gentle yet astute gaze he’d used since he’d found her squatting in his shed ten years ago.
‘Luca too much for you to handle?’
She blushed, silently cursing her reaction.
‘He wasn’t too bad.’
Hector guffawed. ‘Now I know you’re lying.’
He took a seat on the other side of her desk and she gnawed on her bottom lip, unprepared for this.
She hadn’t expected Hector to be here: she’d checked his schedule to make sure. But now he was she’d be forced to discuss the road trip and hope to God her face wouldn’t give away the truth.
‘I’ve heard my grandson’s exuberance results in one of two outcomes. You either love him or hate him.’
With a wink, Hector rested his forearms on her desk. ‘So which was it for you, Charlotte?’
Much to her chagrin, her blush intensified.
‘Neither. We got on well enough.’ Well enough for two people who had been instantly attracted and couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
If Hector saw something beneath her glib response, he didn’t push.
‘Storm behaved?’
‘Mostly.’
‘And his kid?’
‘Tiger had a ball. Panned for gold, travelled deep into an underground mine and wouldn’t get off the paddle steamer.’
Hector’s eyes lit up. ‘I might have to supervise the next country tour personally.’
She chuckled at his enthusiasm. ‘Men never grow up.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that. Luca has done a fine job.’
Yeah, she could attest to that for the most part. But while Luca might be grown up, part of him was like her, damaged by his upbringing. She got that now, had pondered it at great length on her three-hour trip back from Echuca when Storm had grown tired of discussing business and retired to play on the Wii with Tiger.
If she was scared of letting anyone under her guard, Luca must be the same. He was involved in all those projects, funded kids’ charities the world over … but how invested was he really? Did he just dole out money or did he get involved? The way he’d dismissed their beautiful encounter as nothing more than a fling, she had a feeling he never, ever got involved, with anything or anybody.
Despite her best efforts to maintain an impartial expression, some of her doubt must’ve shown.
‘He’s very clever, cultivating his image in the media to keep his charities in the spotlight.’
Yes, but what had he said … Something about performing becoming tiring after a while …?
She’d initially taken him for a shallow playboy, had had her misconceptions blown away early when he’d started to reveal pieces of himself. So what would it be like, to have to perform all the time? She saw the toll it took on rock stars. What toll had it taken on Luca?
‘From kids with cancer to the homeless, he gives millions. I’ve always been proud of that boy.’
Then why hadn’t he said so? Apart from the occasional mention of Luca in a magazine, Hector rarely talked about his grandson. And after seeing the way the two talked on the phone, their relationship was strained at best.
Was it Luca’s fault, not wanting to get involved with anyone, including his grandfather? In a small way, it should give her comfort; it wasn’t only her Luca didn’t want to get involved with, it was people in general.
Had his upbringing scarred him that much?
Considering her childhood had been no walk in the park she understood but it didn’t make their situation any easier. She’d fallen for a guy who wouldn’t know emotion from an electric guitar.
‘Admirable,’ she said, increasingly uncomfortable wi
th discussing Saint Luca with his grandfather when Hector flipped open his wallet and slid it across the desk, surprising her further.
‘My grandson is something.’
Stunned that Hector carried around a picture of Luca in his wallet, she glanced at the picture of Luca in a graduation cap and gown, his smile forced while Hector grinned with pride, his arm looped around Luca’s shoulders. The two were so much alike she was surprised she hadn’t spotted the similarities sooner: the strong nose, the cut-glass cheekbones, the squarish jaw.
‘When was this taken?’
‘Twelve years ago.’
She didn’t understand why he was showing her this now. Strangely enough, it hurt. They were more than boss and employee, mentor and protégé. Hector was like family and she wished she’d known more about Luca before now.
Why? So she wouldn’t have fallen for him?
Sadly, she had a suspicion no amount of pre-warning could’ve prevented that.
‘You’re wondering why I’ve never discussed Luca with you?’
She opened her mouth to fib and found she couldn’t. Hector was the father she’d never had and she couldn’t lie to him.
‘A little.’
Hector’s wistful gaze as he stared at the picture in his wallet brought a lump to her throat.
‘Because there’s not much to talk about. We’re not close.’
‘Not for lack of trying on your part, I bet,’ she muttered, suddenly angry at the emotionally closed-off man she’d grown to like way more than was good for her.
Hector snapped the wallet shut and slid it back into his pocket. ‘Too little too late, I fear.’
What did he mean by that? From what Luca had told her, Hector had acknowledged him the moment he’d discovered he existed. He’d paid for his education, he’d attended his graduation from that picture, he’d called him for help now.
She wanted to ask what he meant but took one look at his shuttered expression and clamped her lips.
‘I wanted us to be closer but I didn’t know how,’ he murmured, so softly she barely heard, a lump in her throat forming at his audible regret.
‘We go through the motions of catching up now and then but we’ve never really bonded.’
