But it turned out she could.
It was like the day he’d taken her for pizza. It was cheerful and fun and very, very soothing. She reminded herself every so often that whatever else she’d messed up in her life, she’d got it right with Will Murdoch, because they were a great working partnership and she liked to think of him as a friend too. It was good to have a man who was a friend and nothing more, she thought. It brought a different perspective to life.
‘Sorry?’ she said as he looked at her enquiringly. ‘What did you say?’
‘I knew you weren’t listening to me.’ He topped up her glass. ‘I was asking about the Warrens. I know you said you weren’t close, but how did that happen?’
The wine had loosened her tongue. She explained that Lola hadn’t wanted her father to know about her.
‘You’re joking.’ His eyes widened. ‘That was a pretty big decision to make.’
‘She didn’t love him enough.’ Bey gave the explanation that Lola had always given her. ‘She didn’t want to be pressurised into marrying him because she was pregnant. So it was better not to tell him. And it makes sense,’ she added. ‘It’s easy to fool yourself into thinking you’re in love but you need to be sure to get married. She did the right thing.’
‘She didn’t think she should marry him for your sake?’ asked Will.
‘That’s a rubbish reason for anyone to get married,’ said Bey. ‘It would have been a mistake.’
‘But she told him eventually.’
‘Partly my fault,’ said Bey. ‘I nagged at her. I shouldn’t have. I’d’ve been better off not knowing them.’
‘Why?’
She’d never told anyone before. And she didn’t know if it was the wine again, or the shock, or simply the closeness of Will Murdoch that made her talk of the night of her abduction for the first time in years.
‘Oh my God,’ he said when she’d finished. ‘I never thought . . . That must have been totally traumatising.’
‘I got over it,’ she said.
‘But you must sometimes still think about it,’ said Will. ‘I still think about the time when I was eleven and Jamie McMurdo beat the crap out of me in the playground at school. I remember how scared I was and how humiliated I felt that I was so useless at fighting back. I went to tae kwon do classes afterwards. I was always hoping he’d do me over again and I could tell him to stay away, that my hands were lethal weapons, but his family moved to Newcastle shortly afterwards so I never got the chance.’
Bey smiled at him. ‘I went to counselling, I did all the stuff they make you do, and I’ve pretty much forgotten all about it,’ she said.
‘Is that why you don’t see the Warrens?’ he asked.
‘Perhaps partly,’ she admitted. ‘But I’m fine, Will, honestly. It was years ago.’
‘I can’t believe you jumped out of a car and hid in a holly bush,’ said Will. ‘That’s amazing. You’re amazing!’
‘Not so amazing,’ she said. ‘I nicked a ring and ran away. I deserved what I got.’
‘You did not!’ cried Will. ‘What you deserved was for someone to ask why you were all alone in the middle of the night and bring you home. Or call home for you, like those people whose house you ended up in.’
‘The Connors,’ said Bey. ‘They were lovely. We still exchange Christmas cards every year.’
‘And you said this guy’s body was found in the woods years later?’
She nodded.
‘I don’t know what to say.’ Will poured more wine into their glasses. ‘To have that in your life. You never told me. You don’t tell anyone.’
‘I didn’t want it to become the most interesting thing about me. To be introduced as the girl who was abducted and escaped.’
‘I can see that,’ he said. ‘And I can totally see why you and the Warrens have a difficult relationship.’
‘It was always going to be difficult,’ said Bey. ‘Finding out about me was a shock to them. Poor Mum tried to make things OK, but it backfired on her massively. They’re quite horrible about her and I’ve never quite figured out if it was because she wouldn’t marry Dad or because she ran home when she was expecting me and didn’t say anything until years later.’
‘It must have been hard for her on her own,’ observed Will.
‘You called me amazing, but Mum is the amazing one,’ said Bey. ‘She got a great job, worked really hard, put me through college, did everything for me . . . she’s the one constant in my life. Always was, always will be.’
‘It’s important to have someone you can trust completely,’ said Will. ‘Someone you can turn to.’
‘You have Callista.’ The words were out of Bey’s mouth before she could stop them.
‘Yes,’ he said.
She shouldn’t have said Callista’s name. She shouldn’t have made the conversation even more personal than it was already becoming. She stood up abruptly.
‘I’m tired,’ she said, swaying slightly. ‘I need to sleep.’
‘Careful.’ He got up too. ‘Maybe I was a bit generous with the wine.’
‘It was nice,’ she said. ‘Really. Thank you for asking me to your room. Although that sounds horribly compromising.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He put a hand out to guide her as she stepped in from the balcony.
‘Oh God, I’m probably drunk,’ she said. ‘I don’t get drunk, Will Murdoch. It’s not my thing.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. I thought you needed it.’
‘Nobody needs alcohol.’ There was mock severity in her tone. ‘Our teachers in school told us that. But most of the class had already quaffed a fair few ciders behind the bike sheds by then.’
He laughed. So did she.
‘I’m glad you were with me on this trip,’ he said.
‘I’m glad I came.’
She looked up at him then, and realised he was looking at her too. His eyes were more like violet amethysts than ever in the muted light of the room. Only more beautiful. She exhaled sharply. She couldn’t think of Will as having beautiful eyes. She definitely shouldn’t be comparing them to gemstones. This was why she didn’t drink. It made her think stupid thoughts.
‘You have amazing hair, did anyone ever tell you that?’ He tucked a strand behind her ear.
She remembered when he’d tried to do it before, just after she’d discovered he was engaged to Callista, when she’d been younger and less experienced at life. She’d done the right thing then, because she’d practically run away from him. She should run away now, she thought. That would be the sensible thing to do.
But she didn’t do the sensible thing.
She put her hand on his chest and felt the steady drumming of his heart.
She tilted her head.
And then she kissed him.
She was reasonably experienced in the art of kissing, although she was a little out of practice. But none of her past kisses, not with people she liked, or people she thought she loved, or people she knew she didn’t love but who she thought she should kiss anyhow, had been like this. Never before had she surrendered to the moment and allowed the physical pleasure to take over from what was going on in her head.
This kiss was different.
This kiss was with someone she cared about.
This kiss was with Will Murdoch, and she’d wanted to kiss him for a very long time.
She felt the heat of his hand on her back and the strength of his body next to hers. It felt right. It felt perfect.
Because she was in love with him. She would always be in love with him. She couldn’t help it.
Even though he was in love with someone else.
Even though he was married to someone else.
And she shouldn’t be kissing him at all.
She pulled away from him abruptly. ‘People blame alcohol when they do crazy things.’ Her voice was shaking. ‘I never believe them. But the only way I’ll ever believe I did that was owing to having too much to drink. I’m so, so sorry.’
‘I should be sorry too.’ Will’s eyes were searching her face. ‘And I am. I really am. But—’
‘No buts!’ she cried. ‘This was . . . totally inappropriate. We’re work colleagues. You could sue me for sexual harassment.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Will.
‘I’m horrified at what I’ve just done,’ she said. ‘You should be horrified too.’
‘I am.’ There was a tremor in Will’s voice. ‘I promise you I am.’
‘You’re married to Callista. You shouldn’t be kissing me.’
‘I know. But listen to me, Bey—’
‘No. There’s nothing to say. Nothing at all.’
She strode to the door, thankful that she was at least able to walk straight, and fumbled at the handle, crying out in frustration when the door remained obstinately closed.
She felt the heat of him again as he reached around her to unlock it.
‘Does this happen on all your overseas trips?’ Her voice was tight.
‘How could it?’ he said. ‘This is the only one you’ve ever been on with me.’
‘You know quite well what I mean.’
‘Yes, I do. And of course it doesn’t. I’ve never even—’
‘This was a big mistake,’ Bey interrupted him. ‘Bigger than all the other millions of mistakes I’ve made as I’ve blundered my way through life. I’m thinking that the shock and the drink left me in a vulnerable state and I made a fool of myself. I never, ever want to talk about this again. It didn’t happen. OK?’
‘Bey—’
‘Not another bloody word!’
Their eyes locked and Bey saw her own desire reflected in his. She caught her breath, then walked rapidly towards her own room. She stopped outside the door. A moment later Will came up behind her and handed her the key card that she’d left on the table on his balcony.
‘I know it was a mistake,’ he said. ‘I’m really sorry. I can forget about it, I promise.’
‘Good,’ said Bey and unlocked her door.
The problem was, she thought as she leaned against the wall of her room, she wasn’t sure if she could.
Chapter 30
Cabochon: a stone cut with a domed top and flat bottom
It wasn’t until the car arrived to bring them to the train station the following day that she saw him again. He’d texted her when she hadn’t turned up for breakfast and she’d replied that she was having it in her room as she was working on her notes for the design of the Duquesa’s tiara. Then he asked if she’d like to go for a stroll around the old town before they left and she replied with a brief No thanks . He didn’t send any more texts but was waiting in the foyer when she got there herself.
She was wearing her jeans and a white shirt, her hair once again in its neat plait. She knew that despite her inner turmoil, she was outwardly calm and relaxed.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked as they got into the car.
‘Of course.’ She began to talk about the tiara, even though she normally never discussed her designs until she was confident about what she wanted to do, asking him questions about the availability of sapphires and diamonds of particular cut and clarity that he answered in the same casual yet professional tone. The atmosphere, while friendly, lacked the warmth that normally existed between them, but neither of them made any reference to the evening before until they were on the flight to London.
‘Look,’ said Will, after the seat-belt signs had been turned off, ‘you’re obviously still very upset with me.’
‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘I’m upset with myself. I can’t believe I was so bloody unprofessional. Like I said, it was shock and alcohol, and I apologise for behaving in such an inappropriate way.’
‘That’s fine,’ he said. ‘I just—’
‘Will, the only way I am ever going to be able to look you in the eye again is if we never, ever talk about it.’ She loosened her seat belt. ‘So can we agree that it’s a topic that’s not going to be raised again?’
‘All I wanted to say was—’
‘I meant what I said,’ she interrupted him. ‘Let’s move on. Now, I’ve had more thoughts about the tiara given what you’ve already told me. If we use half a dozen sapphires . . .’
They took the Gatwick Express to Victoria and then separate cabs home. It wasn’t until she’d closed the door behind her that Bey finally started to cry. And then she cried as though she would never stop. Because what had happened with Will confirmed everything she hated most about herself. The fact that she always wanted the one thing she couldn’t have. That she still didn’t have the self-control not to take it anyway. And that she’d learned nothing over the last fourteen years.
She’d composed herself by the next day and was in the office early, sitting at her desk and making more sketches of her tiara ideas. As well as the Duquesa’s commission, she was also working on the next Van Aelten and Schaap collection, so she had plenty to keep her occupied. The problem, she realised as she looked up from her desk later, was that every time anybody approached her office, her heart leaped in her chest, hoping it was Will and yet at the same time not wanting it to be. She told herself that the flare-up of her long-buried crush would recede. That it had only happened because she hadn’t been in control of her actions or her emotions. But that she was totally in control of herself now. And then her heart leaped again as she heard footsteps outside the door, but it was only a courier with a 3-D model of a ring design.
‘I’m going for a walk, Iolanda.’ She signed for the model and then got up from her desk. ‘I’ll be back in a while.’
‘Are you all right?’ Iolanda looked at her in surprise.
‘Headache,’ said Bey. ‘I need some fresh air.’
She hurried down the stairs and outside. She strode towards Oxford Street, not taking any notice of the people around her, not thinking of anything because her head was in a whirl again. She’d worked successfully with Will for four years. In that time she’d dated other men. She could still work with him. She could date other men again. All she needed was to pull herself together.
She went into Starbucks and ordered a coffee, which she drank while leafing through a copy of Metro that had been left on the table. But she didn’t take in anything she was reading, her mind filled with the touch of Will’s lips on hers and the intensity of her feelings as he’d held her close. Why was such an insignificant moment taking up so much of her mental time? she asked herself angrily. Why was she letting it matter? Why was she wondering what it would be like to kiss him again? She had no right even to think about it. Will was married. She shouldn’t fantasise about him. She couldn’t. Besides, there were more important things for her to worry about. The collection. The tiara. All far more meaningful than ten seconds of madness in Cádiz.
But then I always seem to mess up my life with a few moments of madness, she mused as she refolded the paper. Everything would be going fine, and then she would do something stupid, like steal a ring or get into a stranger’s car or kiss a married man, and the consequences were overwhelming, not just for her but for everyone around her. She finished the coffee and threw the waxed cup into the trash. This moment, this thing with Will, who knows what it could have started and how it could have ended. It might have cost him everything. And it would have been all her fault, just like every other time.
‘How’s your head?’ asked Iolanda when she walked back into the office.
‘Improving,’ replied Bey. ‘Anything happening?’
‘Gerritt wants to have a chat about the Duquesa,’ said her assistant. ‘And Will Murdoch dropped by but I told him you’d gone out.’
Bey’s heart missed a beat.
‘Is he coming back?’
‘He hung around for a while but he had a meeting. He said he’d be back around six.’
Bey nodded. She went back to her desk and started sketching.
At 5.45, she left for the evening.
Her days now seemed to be entirely measured around Will’s timetable. It was all ab
out avoiding him whenever she could and yet feeling the bitter sting of disappointment when she didn’t see him.
When he did have to call into her office, she was very careful never to be alone with him – which wasn’t that difficult as she always left her door open. She found a way of talking to him that sounded strained to her but that everyone else seemed to accept as perfectly normal. She never instigated conversations and always kept the ones they did have as brief as possible. She did her best not to allow her feelings to become apparent to anybody else. But after a few weeks Iolanda asked if she’d had a row with Will, and when Bey asked why, Iolanda said that she’d been very offhand with him lately and he seemed unhappy.
‘We’re both very busy,’ Bey said. ‘He’s trying to source the stones for the tiara and I still haven’t come up with a design that I like. It’s stressful.’
‘I’ve never known you to be stressed before,’ said Iolanda.
‘There’s a first time for everything,’ said Bey.
And a first time for not feeling comfortable with the design she was working on. It was as though her own conflicted emotions were reflected in her designs for the tiara. Her original sketches from before the kiss were still there and still something to work from, but they weren’t progressing the way she wanted. She felt as though she were in a maze, unable to find her way out, taking random turns and panicking when they didn’t lead her where she expected.
In the end she decided to return to Ireland for a couple of days. She caught an early-evening flight on Thursday and was having a takeaway in front of the TV with Lola by nine o’clock.
‘It’s lovely to have you back,’ said Lola as she decanted Thai red curry into a bowl.
‘It’s nice to be back,’ said Bey. ‘It’s been a while, I’m sorry.’
‘You’ve been busy,’ said Lola. ‘Jetting off to Cádiz, getting important commissions from duchesses . . .’ She smiled. ‘You’re a superstar now.’
‘I’m not.’ Bey dug her fork into the steaming rice. ‘And if I’m strictly honest with you, the tiara isn’t working out quite the way I’d hoped. That’s why I’m here. I thought . . .’ She looked up. ‘I thought maybe I could go to Cloghdrom for a day. Walk the fields. Clear my mind. Talk to Granny.’
What Happened That Night: The page-turning holiday read by the No. 1 bestselling author Page 30
