Nate was a reporter – he wanted her story and got it. She had seen it, read it and cried over it. And now, anyone with an internet connection could read it. Her family would have already, no doubt, and so would all the busybodies from the town she grew up in.
Stupidly, she had allowed herself to think she was special to him. He had been stringing her all along. He had even played the generous lover down to a tee. She gave him her body and her heart, but in return, she had been humiliated and deceived.
Rising, she rinsed her mouth, brushed her teeth and looked at the ashen complexion of her face. Where was that happy glow of an hour ago? Gone, never to return. She ground her teeth together unable to believe her Nate was a lying, cheating snake, just like Sebastian.
Travis, Sebastian and Nate. She had hit the hat-trick with loser men. Could she get any worse? All she wanted was to find real love and honesty, like Aunty Maude and Uncle Jack, like her parents and her grandparents. But instead, she had been used over and over again.
Tears of humiliation stung her eyes and she brushed them away. She would not waste crying over Nate. He betrayed her and his words made her want to weep. How could he say that about her? And then to bed her? Not just bed her but they’d shared intimacies that real lovers did.. Her stomach heaved again and she took deep breaths to steady the anger in her belly.
Stupid her had seen Nate as long term, someone to introduce to her family. And the whole time, he was only after the story. No wonder he had been so interested in Sebastian and his home life.
She needed a plan, a plan that involved getting away from Nate and his lies. Time to refocus on her life, to work out what she wanted and to go in that direction. Channelling her inner-Maude, she stuffed her belongings into her bag as she worked out exactly what to do.
Nate, drowsy from only a few hours of sleep, lay in bed remembering how incredible the night was with Tilly. The sex was mind-blowing, sensational. He wanted Tilly in his bed permanently. Permanently? A rush of adrenaline ripped through his belly. Yes, permanently. He squeezed his eyes shut waiting for the inevitable tension stabbing in his gut. It was not there. He gasped. There was no way he was ever going to let her go.
After what she had revealed to him last night, he formulated his own plan of attack against Sebastian. Seducing and forcing women to have sex was his MO. He shuddered. The man deserved to be tarred and feathered. He had away with ruining his sister’s reputation all those years ago but he would not allow Tilly to be hurt as well. Now, he was a man of influence, a respected journalist. He had the ammunition and he was going to fire directly at Sebastian’s heart.
His jaw clenched remembering all those years ago, when Sebastian bragged to his friends about Bea. Bea had been a virgin, an easy conquest, young and vulnerable. Sebastian took advantage of it, claiming it had been ‘consensual’. The shame of her friends gossiping about her had Bea descend in a distressed state and it was only when he had come home and found her with a bottle of pills in her hand, slumped on the floor, that Nate realised the extent of her depression. After her stomach was pumped, Nate kept a watchful eye on his sister over the years as she dallied with unsuitable men, excessive alcohol and illicit drugs. She may not see herself as worthy, but he did. The love and support he and their foster parents had given her was the springboard she needed to finally shrug off her past demons. And now she was pursuing a career in fashion. He was so proud of her.
Bea managed to put it all behind her, but he hadn’t and wouldn’t. He would have his revenge.
He now had to work out how to tell Tilly who he really was and why they had met. A new blog post would be a good idea. A check at the clock revealed how long he had slept in. There was plenty to do.
Walking into the kitchen, he found it empty. A quick check of the suite confirmed Tilly was not there. Where was she? He scratched his head, returning to the kitchen.
Propped up against the coffee machine was a note. He smiled. She was visiting her aunt. He had an urgent need to kiss her senseless. Lifting the piece of paper, he was surprised to see the angry slashes of her writing. It was brief. She hated him for betraying her and never wanted to see him again. He swore. How? There was no internet connection and his phone had a code. He strode to his backpack and searched – her mobile phone was missing. She had found it and obviously knew everything. Well, not everything, but enough to leave him. Sure he had, lied but he was going to protect her. Even his blog post was empathetic to her. He banged his fist on the granite bench top. How dare she? She ran away instead of thanking him. Unbelievable.
Perhaps there was something else? He scanned the papers using his mobile phone. Nothing. Nothing involving Tilly. Opening a new page, he checked his blog page and grinned at the number of hits and comments. His smile fell as he read the words. His belly tumbled and splattered on the kitchen tiles. What garbage! It was not what he had posted and the words were definitely not his.
Bugger. Bugger. Bugger.
His hollowed gut knew what happened before he checked his emails. His editor had sexed up the article and his assistants, with the access he had given them, published it. What a betrayal! They had better work on their resumes because he would be firing them as soon as he returned to London. There was a reason why he protected his work with a paternal fierceness. His jaw clenched tight. He had to fix it. Then he had to find Tilly and fix things between them.
His mobile phone pinged, indicating a new message, he checked it, praying it was Tilly. It wasn’t – it was worse. Bea had collapsed and was in a medical clinic in Arad, two and a half hours away.
He was torn. Torn between caring for his sister or for the woman he was falling for.
CHAPTER TEN
The air in his lungs emptied while he stared at the message. He thought Bea would be fine at the five star resort, especially with her ex-boyfriend, Nigel, there. He raked his fingers through his hair. His sister needed him but so did Tilly. He could not imagine the hurt and pain Tilly was going through, believing him to be the scum of manhood. But his sister. He stumbled, his vision blurring as he recalled finding her after an unsuccessful suicide attempt all those years ago. What had happened? Had she got caught up in a wrong crowd?
His temples ached and he massaged the sharp pain. How could he choose between them? They were both important to him. But Bea needed him. Tilly was strong and resourceful but Bea was not. So it would have to be Bea first and then Tilly. He would never forgive himself if something happened to his sister.
Using the hotel phone, he spoke to reception, asking them to organise a car and driver for him. This way he could work during the long drive it would take to get to Arad.
The ache in his head had wormed its way to his neck and shoulders and Nate felt the weight of responsibility for his sister and Tilly settle heavily. The driver had made good time in negotiating them out of Jerusalem and soon they were driving southward. Nate tried calling Bea a number of times on her mobile, but it went straight to voice mail. He tossed the phone to the side and re-read his blog post which included a heartfelt, public apology to Tilly.
Best to confess everything on his blog. Sure it would be seen by thousands of his followers, but there was only one person he wanted to read it – Tilly.
She had to know how important she was to him, how much he wanted to be with her and if humiliating himself in such a way would work then, so be it. He clicked the publish button. Done. It was live. He double-checked the security access, ensuring the new codes meant only he could access the site. Done. He leaned back and watched the desert landscape while the car snaked its way towards the Dead Sea.
Once he had ensured Bea was okay, he would search for Tilly. Aunty Maude would be unlikely to help – perhaps he could beg? A vision of her lips tightly shut was all he needed to know that she would protect her niece, especially from a supposed-tosser like him.
His gut reassured him that Tilly would contact him, once she read his apology. Then he would tell her everything. Everything from his wretched childho
od, to Sebastian, to Bea, to her. By explaining his need to damage Sebastian, he hoped she would understand about him lying who he was and how they had met. By understanding his motivations, he could admit his feelings and make Tilly realise that those lies had not extended into the bedroom. Far from it. What they had shared was special. Anticipation in confronting her zipped along his spine. The need to explain was overpowering.
He could only hope they would return to his beloved hometown of London and start a new chapter together. The concept of commitment excited rather than terrified him. Appealing images of them visiting galleries, enjoying brunch at his favourite café, going to the theatre flooded his brain.
They would travel. He wanted to spoil her, show her Europe, America and all the places she wanted to visit. Australia would be the first place to head to so he could meet Tilly’s family. His intention was to introduce himself and let her parents know he was respectable and would care for their daughter, especially living so far away.
He may be moving quickly, but after years of rejecting ‘couple-hood’, a few days of being with Tilly had obliterated all the reasons as to why he should not settle down. And it was not just the fantastic sex. He liked her. A lot. Not only was she kind and caring, but she made him laugh and feel alive again. He wanted to be a couple with her. He did not want to go back to the women he usually dated who played by the rules. Tilly, with her cute freckles, long legs and easy-going demeanour, was what he wanted.
Once he fixed the issues between them, he was sure she would embrace the idea of returning to London to be a couple. He knew he could convince her.
By cutting back on his interviews and focussing on his blog and writing, he could spend more time with Tilly. His heart quickened thinking about the experiences they would share. Staying in a Highland castle in Scotland, climbing the Eiffel Tower, enjoying a gondola ride in Venice, visiting the breathtaking Lake Como in Italy, visiting the Gallipoli peninsula and Anzac Cove in Turkey. Living in London meant they could do this and more.
His phone rang and grabbed it hoping it was Tilly. No. It was Bea.
“Bea, are you okay? I’m on my way to Arad.” The thought of her alone and sick filled him with dread. The hotel manager had told him there was no hospital in Arad and he hoped the clinic had suitable facilities to care for his sister.
“Why are you coming to Arad?” she asked in disbelief.
He shook his head, unable to believe she was surprised he would be there for her. “You told me you collapsed,” he all but snapped at his sibling.
“Nate, enough. I’m fine,” she said with a decisive tone.
Trying a different tact, he softened his voice. “Bea, I’m worried about you.”
“Nigel’s here, he’s been amazing.” She paused. “I should’ve called instead of texting. You’re in Greece with Tilly so I didn’t expect you to drop everything and come to me.”
“Actually, I’ve been in Jerusalem for the past two days, not in Greece. I lied to you.” With a heavy heart, he quickly filled her in on Tilly, the media, the fake engagement and the apology.
“Why are you coming to see me instead of going after Tilly?” she fired back at him, not too concerned about the fibs and stories he had just spun.
“I’m worried about you.” He lowered his voice. “I’m responsible for you. I never want to find you the way I did, all those years ago.”
He heard her suck in a sharp breath. “You think I’m taking drugs?” she accused in a shrill voice.
Why else would she have collapsed? “I don’t know, are you?” His shoulders slumped with the mental exhaustion of worrying about her 24/7 for years now.
“No I’m not.” Her voice raised a notch. “I got dehydrated. It’s hot and I had too many glasses of wine and not enough water. It was silly of me.” She cleared her throat. “Listen, I’m fine – you need to stop this overprotection. I’ve turned my life around. I’m healthy and I don’t go near any drugs. I’ve got friends, a good job and…” she stopped.
“And?” he urged.
“Nigel and I are back together again.” Her voice sung out, happiness beaming brightly even though he was speaking to her over the phone. There was no doubt in his mind she was happy, really happy.
His heart lifted in relief and joy. “That’s great Bea. Nigel’s a good man.”
“He’s the best.” She cooed before making a kissing sound, obviously aimed at Nigel and not him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Unable to believe he was now unneeded, unnecessary, unrequired. His throat thickened making it difficult to swallow.
“I’m better than fine. You don’t need to look after me anymore.” His little sister was reminding him that she had grown up, shaken off her past demons and made a success of her life. Even though he knew this, he still worried for her. The memory of her slumped on the floor was soldered on his brain and he found it difficult to remove this image.
His lungs deflated. He did not know how to let go. He could not remember a time he had not been there for Bea. It was part of his psyche, it defined him. Removing that responsibility was as harrowing as removing a limb. As her older brother, with no loving father, his job had been to ensure Bea was safe, happy and adjusted.
With an aching heart, he leaned forward and spoke to the driver. “We’re returning to Jerusalem, now, please.” He slumped into seat, the exhaustion of his decision rested heavily on his chest.
“Nate, are you there?” his sister’s voice sounded out from his mobile.
“Yes.” Saying it tired him. He closed his eyes, blocking out the bright sunlight, which was making his head throb. “I’m going back to Jerusalem.” Even after saying it, he hoped he was making the right decision. Leaving her felt wrong. Mentally reminding himself that Nigel was there helped a bit.
She made a whooping noise “Brilliant, thank you.”
Caring for Bea all those years had not been a chore. Letting go would no doubt take him a while to get used to. By having the driver turn the car around and return to Jerusalem, he hoped to show he trusted her decision-making.
“I also mean for everything.” He heard her sigh. “For being a better parent than Mum or Dad ever were. You have protected me all your life and I am grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Without you,” he heard her choke back a sob, “I don’t know where I’d be. I owe my achievements to you.”
His throat tightened with unexpected emotion. “Bea, you did that, not me.” He wanted to reassure her that she was responsible for turning her life around, not him.
“You encouraged me to aim high, let go of the past, especially with that tosser, Sebastian.” She spat out the word ‘Sebastian’. “He’s an awful person and what he did was cruel and callous but I’ve accepted it and put it behind me. I’m not going to let him continue to ruin my life.” She started to cry. “I’m sorry that you found me that time. You saved my life and I’m thankful everyday for being alive, especially now that I’ve found love with Nigel.”
“Bea.” He did not know what to say. Leaning back into the leather seat, he closed his eyes, his body suddenly weary as though he had been hiking for days in the desert. He licked his dry lips. “I’m thankful every day I found you when I did.”
“I’ve something to confess.” He heard her draw in a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you till now, but Paisley was cheating on you. There was never a good time to tell you but you need to know, especially being with Tilly.”
The mention of his ex-fiancée caused his chest to hurt as though a giant fist had punched him in the ribs. Despite the fall out being over two years ago, her name still made his teeth clench. Confirmation she was cheating on him was akin to acid being dripped on his skin. He had his suspicions but he did not want to believe he had not been enough for her.
His sister continued. “She lied to you when she said she didn’t want to be associated with our family.”
Even sitting in a car travelling along a desert road in Israel, Nate could still remember Pa
isley’s taunting words. We don’t want your DNA spoiling our gene pool. The hurt had gone all the way through to the marrow in his bones. It was not as though he needed a reminder of how bad his parents were. Having it thrown in his face by his fiancée was the moment when he was not sure if he ever wanted to marry, let alone have children.
“After your engagement ended, I followed her around for a few days. Don’t tell me off – I know it was the wrong thing to do, but I hated how she treated you. You were so nice to her. Anyway, I shouldn’t have done it but I did.” She paused. “She met the same bloke every day and they were very affectionate. One day, I overheard them. They had definitely been together when she was engaged to you. By using your family as an excuse, she was able to break your engagement and be with her lover.”
He forgot how to breathe until an automatic reflex had him gasping for air. He undid the top buttons of his shirt so oxygen could flow to his deprived lungs. He wanted to punch a wall and release the hurt that had been stagnating in his belly for the past two years. He had been a fool. A fool who stupidly believed he was not worthy of the gorgeous Paisley.
Just because his family tree was unsavoury did not mean he was. He had achieved a successful career and a healthy bank account from hard work, not from an inheritance.
“You wouldn’t have been happy married to Paisley – she wasn’t for you,” Bea reassured him with a soothing tone. “It’s better it ended before you were married, not after.”
“I know, now.” His voice croaked. It had taken his baby sister to see what he should have seen all that time ago. He had been so full of rage that he had not taken the time to realise that not marrying Paisley was a good thing. Deep down, he had not even admitted to himself, but he should never have proposed. But he knew why. She represented everything he thought he wanted. A stable home. Well to-do parents. A family brimming with aunts, uncles and cousins.
“Do you think Tilly is the one for you?” Bea’s question brought him back into the present.
Falling for Mr Wrong Page 13
