Her heart skipped a beat.
He had sounded so genuine.
But then he was hardly going to say what he really thought.
She knew that he didn’t believe one word of it. He couldn’t have made it clearer that he had given up on love. Only hearing him talk like that made it hard not to wish that he hadn’t.
But only for a moment.
She felt a faint flush of heat wash over her cheekbones, remembering how he had carried her upstairs last night. She didn’t need to complicate what was already perfect.
* * *
‘So tell me? Did you have a good time last night?’
Serena gave her a one-armed hug. They were back at the house, where Serena had laid on a mouth-watering brunch.
‘It was better than good.’ Frankie smiled. ‘It was the best party I’ve ever been to.’
She had really enjoyed herself—and yet, truthfully, she had preferred lunch yesterday, when it had been just the four of them. In fact, what she liked best of all was just lying on the sofa with Arlo in the library at the Hall...
Now that she thought about it, she’d only really started going out a lot at secondary school—and mostly that had been a kind of pushback against Harry and Amelie’s glittering success.
And after the accident, her partying had been a way to fight the loneliness and the guilt and had ended up being her career. Now she couldn’t imagine living like that. Only she was going to have to return—and sooner rather than later.
Blanking her mind to that unwelcome thought, she said quickly, ‘I had a great time at the shoot as well.’
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come down, but Bertie had me up before dawn with his teeth.’
Frankie glanced over at the small blond boy clutching at Serena. She had met Bertie yesterday, and he had been like a jumping jack. Now, though, there were smudges under his eyes and he seemed listless and quiet.
‘Would you like me to take him for you?’ Frankie asked as Serena attempted to pick up her coffee cup.
Stifling a yawn, Serena shook her head. ‘He won’t go to anyone when he’s feeling like this—’
‘Except his favourite godfather!’
Watching Bertie’s face split into a huge, gap-toothed smile, Frankie felt a sharp nip of pleasure as Arlo reached forward and lifted him into his arms.
‘I’m just going to grab some food,’ he said, leaning in to kiss Serena on both cheeks. ‘Do either of you want anything?’
Serena shuddered. ‘No, thank you. I can still taste that last tequila.’
Arlo made a tutting sound. ‘Frankie? Any preferences?’
‘Surprise me,’ she said softly.
His gaze locked with hers and she felt the air between them snap like an elastic band.
‘I’ll do my best.’
Watching him walk away, Serena sighed. ‘He’s so good with Bertie. I suppose he would be—I mean, he practically raised Johnny by himself.’ She rested her elbows on the tablecloth. ‘But never mind that now. What I want to know is how did you two meet?’
Frankie felt her mouth open and close as she tried to remember what she and Arlo had agreed, but before she could answer Serena waved her hands excitedly.
‘No—no, wait a minute. Let me guess. Your car got a puncture and he pulled over to help? Or maybe you were lost—?’
‘No, it was nothing like that.’ Frankie shook her head. ‘I know Johnny from London, and he introduced me to Arlo.’ That was almost true. ‘We hit it off and he asked me to stay.’ That was also almost true.
To her astonishment, Serena looked delighted. ‘Oh, I’m so happy you said that. It sounds so normal. I knew you were different from the others,’ she said triumphantly.
The others.
Frankie felt something twist beneath her ribs. Not that long ago she’d found it hard to imagine anyone wanting to work with Arlo, let alone share his bed. Now, though, it hurt to imagine his body overlapping another woman’s...
Leaning in conspiratorially, Serena lowered her voice. ‘I was watching the two of you together and you can’t keep your eyes off each other. I told Davey you must be the one—’
What? She stared up at Serena in shock and confusion. ‘No, no... I don’t think... That’s not...’
Serena touched her hand. ‘It’s okay. I’m not going to say anything. I know Arlo’s a very private person,’ she said gently. ‘But I know love when I see it.’
Love? No, that was wrong. That wasn’t what was happening here. She and Arlo didn’t love one another.
Her head started to spin. Around her, the room seemed to be blurring at the edges.
No, they didn’t.
But she loved him.
She felt a rush of panic and confusion, then denial. That couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Surely you couldn’t fall in love so quickly. But she knew that it was true. She loved him. Loved him with every frantic beat of her heart.
Her breath caught. But if that was true...
Gazing across the table at Serena, she felt her throat contract. She seemed so certain, and she and Davey knew Arlo better than anyone. But could Serena be right? Could Arlo have fallen in love with her too?
That question kept popping into her head during the rest of the day, but thinking it was one thing. Asking it...
Part of her wanted to. Another part—the part that didn’t want to rock the boat—feared the consequences of demanding more when everything was going so well, and she was still dithering later that day, as the Rolls-Royce convertible rumbled back over the wet cobbles on the causeway.
‘So, do you want to eat something?’ he asked.
‘I don’t think so.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Actually, what I’d really like is a bath.’
Dipping his head, he kissed her softly on the mouth. ‘Great minds think alike.’
* * *
It was lovely to have so much endless and guilt-free hot water on tap, Frankie thought as she lay back in the water, gazing through the spirals of steam to where Arlo lounged, his arms resting along the rim of the bath.
Looking at the heavy muscles bunching, she felt her pulse accelerate. It had always been easy to admire his solidness. But now she found it just as easy to admit that she loved everything about him that wasn’t visible. In fact, she loved everything about him.
Only now that it was easy to admit that to herself, she could feel herself wanting to tell Arlo.
Striving for calm, she picked up the soap and began rubbing it between her hands. ‘Thank you for taking me to Stanhope Park. I had a really nice time.’
‘Well, you were a huge hit. Davey thinks you’re wonderful, and Serena is raving about you too. They’ve invited us over on Saturday for lunch.’
His grey eyes rested on her face and, thinking back to her conversation with Serena, Frankie felt her stomach flip over. ‘They’re both lovely. And they loved your speech.’ She hesitated. ‘I loved it too. I thought it was beautiful. But—’
He stared at her steadily. ‘But what?’
‘I don’t know how you could say all that stuff about love and not want it for yourself.’
Sitting forward, he scooped up some water and dribbled it over her bare breasts.
‘I thought we’d talked about that,’ he said after a long silence.
‘We talked about your parents. But how do you know it would be the same for you? I mean it’s not the same for Davey and Serena, and if you met your “for ever” person everything might feel different.’
His face stilled and she felt her heart start to thud against her ribs.
‘I’m not the marrying kind—’
‘How do you know? How can you know? You’ve never been married.’ Her fingers bit into the soap. ‘You talk about data and facts, but you’re not basing your opinion on fact.’
There was another im
measurably long pause, and then he said coolly, ‘Actually, that’s exactly what I’m doing. You see, I have been married.’
She stared at him, mute with shock.
When? For how long? Who was she?
He flicked her a glance, hearing her questions even though she hadn’t asked them. ‘Ten years ago, for just under three months. Her name was Harriet and she was someone I met at university.’
Her heart was still thumping and she counted the thuds, trying to steady herself. ‘What happened?’
‘I didn’t love her. I told her. She left. It was not my finest moment.’ His face was bleak. ‘I wanted to love her. I wanted to have what my parents had. I wanted to believe. But it was a disaster. All I did was end up hurting her.’ Reaching out, he prised the soap from her fingers, his hands covering hers. ‘And that’s why we can never be more than this. I don’t want to hurt you, Frankie. I can’t risk that.’
Her eyes were stinging but she made no move to touch them. There was nothing she could do. The flat, uncompromising edge in his voice left her nowhere to go.
‘So what are you saying?’ she said stiffly.
‘I suppose I’m saying...is this enough for you?’
His jaw was locked tight, the skin stretched taut across his cheekbones, and she could hear him breathing.
No, it wasn’t.
She felt so much...wanted so much more.
She was on the verge of taking his hand and pressing it to her lips, telling him that she loved him. And she might have done it if he hadn’t just told her what had happened with Harriet. But she couldn’t unknow what she knew...couldn’t unsee the weariness in his eyes...and she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth.
Not now.
Not if it might mean losing this...losing him...
That was a risk she couldn’t take.
She nodded slowly, her stomach lurching at the lie. ‘Yes, it is.’
His face relaxed a little and she leaned forward and kissed him softly. She felt his hand touch her cheek and he deepened the kiss, and then she was kissing him back and surrendering to the tide of hunger rising inside her, letting it sweep aside her pain and her love.
CHAPTER TEN
THE NEXT MORNING they woke late. After days of bright sunshine the weather had turned and it was raining again. Not the deluge of last week, but enough for them to retreat to the library after a long, leisurely breakfast.
Now they were sprawled against each other on the rug in front of the fire. Frankie’s head was in his lap, his hand was in her hair, and they were watching the flames as they curled sinuously over the logs.
Correction: Frankie was watching the flames.
He was watching her.
A couple of days ago at the party he’d thought she could never look any more beautiful, but he’d been wrong. Today, wearing jeans and some old jumper of his, with no make-up and her hair curling loosely over her shoulders, there was a kind of radiance about her that had nothing to do with the symmetry of her features or the luminous clarity of her skin.
It was about who she was as a person. And Frankie was a beautiful person.
His ribs tightened as he remembered the hours running up to the party.
To say that he’d been dreading it was an understatement. Being surrounded by his family was just so difficult, so painful. It stirred so many beautiful, precious memories, and it hurt to remember all that he had lost.
At three-line whip events—the ones he couldn’t legitimately avoid—he usually just watched from the sidelines and left as early as possible. But Frankie had drawn him in, made him a part of every conversation, so that instead of brooding on the past, thinking of what he’d lost, he had found himself talking—not expansively, maybe, but talking just the same—and it had been fun.
She had made it fun.
She was so full of energy and curiosity about life, about people. He loved that about her.
To an outsider, his family might appear insular and cliquey and a little bit clueless about how the rest of the world lived. And they all knew each other. It would be daunting for anyone to be parachuted into such an environment, and he knew how nervous she had been.
But not one person there would have guessed. She had talked to everyone, laughed at Arthur’s terrible jokes, and listened patiently while Davey explained the intricacies of his new biomass boiler.
She drew people out of themselves—and drew them together. Not in some stage-managed, artificial way, but naturally.
No wonder everyone had loved her.
And she had loved them.
His heart felt suddenly heavy inside his chest as he remembered the dazzle of happiness and excitement in her blue eyes. She had loved being a part of a family again, and he had loved being able to gift her that.
He felt his shoulders tense. That, though, was all he could give her.
What stopped him going further—what made it impossible for him even to indulge in thinking about going further—was Frankie herself.
She needed more than he could give. No, it was more than that. She needed more than he’d shown her he could give.
Talking to her last night in the bath, he’d made it sound as if hurting her was a risk. But ‘risk’ implied that there was another option where he didn’t end up hurting her, and that wasn’t true.
Memories of his short, unhappy marriage stirred and shivered inside his head.
Had he felt this way with Harriet?
Definitely not. He’d been too young, too desperate.
This time, though, he had no excuse to ruin a young woman’s life.
And Frankie deserved better. After everything she’d already been through, she needed someone who could complete her life, not cause it to unravel.
His chest tightened.
And yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself from wanting to rearrange the world so that it would offer up a space where he and Frankie could be together. Although at the same time he needed it not to involve any kind of contract or commitment that could be broken.
In other words, he wanted something that didn’t exist. Only he didn’t have the first idea how to explain any of that to Frankie—which was why he’d ended up telling her about Harriet.
He’d never had to do that before. In the past, with other women, he’d found it easy to stick to his rules without needing to justify or explain himself. But right from the start Frankie had been different. Somehow she had sneaked under the tripwire, and before he had known what was happening she’d upended everything that had previously seemed so certain and inviolable.
Yesterday, she’d left him with no option. He’d had to tell her about his marriage to prove to her once and for all that it didn’t matter what worked for other people. It hadn’t worked for him.
‘What is it?’
Frankie was looking up at him. She felt soft and warm against him, but it was the questioning look in her blue eyes that made his fingers still against her hair.
‘Nothing.’ He forced a smile as her gaze travelled over his face.
He had to stop this pointless back and forth. It was like trying to move forward in a whiteout.
But probably he was only feeling this way because he’d churned up the past, muddying the waters of the present.
‘I was just thinking about maybe going for a dip.’
‘You mean, in the sea?’
She wriggled upright, her eyes bright with the adventure of it. Leaning forward, she looped her hands around his neck so that he could feel the tips of her small pointed breasts against his chest.
‘But won’t it be freezing?’
‘It’ll be bracing.’ He smiled. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not expecting you to come with me.’
She frowned. ‘But I want to. Unless you’re planning on swimming around the island or to Denmark?’
It hadn
’t occurred to him that she would want to join him. He thought she’d opt to stay by the fire. But now, gazing down at her eager face, it seemed blindingly obvious she would never do that.
He shook his head. ‘I wasn’t planning on being in for more than a couple of minutes,’ he lied.
He’d actually been planning on swimming up to the rocks. But he was used to swimming in chilly seas. Frankie wasn’t. And without a wetsuit it would be just too dangerous for her to do anything more than take a quick dip.
‘Did you bring a costume with you?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘I did.’ Her mouth twitched. ‘Why? Are you saying I don’t need one?’
Their eyes met and he felt tiny curls of heat break like waves over his skin as he imagined Frankie coming naked out of the sea like Botticelli’s Venus.
Feeling his body harden, he shook his head again. ‘No, I’m not,’ he said firmly, tipping her gently off his lap.
Another second of this and he would be in danger of losing both the power of speech and any desire to move. What he needed right now was to clear his head—and that wasn’t going to happen when the soft press of Frankie’s body was playing havoc with all his senses, including his common sense.
‘Come on.’ He held out his hand. ‘Let’s go and get changed—before I change my mind or you change it for me.’
* * *
The sea was glorious. Just how he liked it. The water was drawing up lazily and then hurling itself against the stretch of golden sand like a steeplechaser clearing the final fence.
It was cold—bracingly so—but not enough to stop Frankie from joining him with a shriek as the surging waves sloshed against her body.
They spent a few minutes plunging through the water and then, hand in hand, made their way back to the beach. Grabbing towels, they ran, shivering, up to the Hall.
‘Not too hot to start,’ Arlo warned her as she unwrapped her body from its crimson swimsuit and stepped into the shower.
As she tilted her head back he joined her, gasping as the water hit his skin. Leaning forward, he let the warm stream soak his hair before smoothing it back against his skull.
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