by Tricia Jones
“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” she demanded, her hands tight fists at her sides. “Or perhaps you didn’t care, as long as you got me into bed beforehand. Was that some part of the plan? Some part of the challenge? Does it give you some perverse satisfaction to screw a woman in more ways than one?” Propelled by an anger that was building on itself by the minute, Chloe poked a finger into his chest, wincing slightly when the hard muscle beneath didn’t yield. “What was the plan? Soften me up so I wouldn’t change my mind? Have sex with me so I wouldn’t put up much of a fight when I discovered your vicious lies?”
Nathan grabbed her wrist as another poke headed his way. “What the hell?” He glared at her, then drew in a long breath. “Is all this because I vandalised your flower beds?”
Chloe shook away his hold, her anger fuelled by his woefully misplaced attempt to diffuse the situation with humor. That he should make some crass remark when she was hurting so much pierced her heart, as did the image of those grape hyacinths sitting prettily in the tiny china vase which had belonged to her grandmother.
Like a blanket over flames, her anger dispersed, leaving her hurt and wretched, and so very miserable. “How could you?” When her voice trembled, she wished the anger back. Anything to wash over this awful hurt. “How could you plan to pull down my home, when you knew… Without even having the courtesy to warn me.”
“You’ve got—”
“No brains is what I’ve got. I can’t have, because if I had I would never have gotten involved with you.”
“Are we involved, Chloe?” His voice was low as his dark eyes searched hers.
“I hate you and what you stand for. Progress at the cost of everything meaningful and worthwhile. You once accused me of being a traditionalist, like it was something to be ashamed of. Well, I’m not. If I’m ashamed of anything it’s allowing myself to get involved with someone like you.”
Slowly, he raised his eyebrows. “Someone like me?”
“You think the means justify the end. You think that as long as you provide appropriate recompense to people, you can just waltz in and take exactly what you want.” Her throat caught on the last syllable. Get a grip, she admonished herself. “I can’t believe you didn’t have the decency to tell me about your plans for my cottage.”
Nathan stepped closer. “Sit down, Chloe. Give me a chance to explain.”
Instead she moved back, straightening her jacket. “No explanations necessary. I know all I need to know. You listened to me spouting on about what the cottage meant to me, let me make a fool of myself telling you about memories that I’ve never shared with anyone else. Were you laughing behind my back, Nathan? Were you congratulating yourself on your victory? Patting yourself on the back for having duped me with such ease?”
She pushed back the hurt and stormed to the door, only vaguely aware that Nathan followed. She grabbed the handle, then whirled to face him. “Oh, just for the record.” Her tone was brisk, businesslike, and she thanked heaven for it. “Your plans are no longer of interest to me. I intend to call my solicitor as soon as I get back to my office and instruct her to tear up the contract. As of now, my cottage is off the market.”
“Chloe…”
“No. That’s not exactly true. The cottage is actually still for sale, just not to you or your company.” Her heart pumped out a chagrined beat, but the look on his imperious face was worth it. She watched a muscle jump in his cheek, but stood her ground despite a queasy tremor in her stomach as he moved slowly toward her.
She wanted to run, not just because he was advancing forward with panther-like stealth, but because the sheer presence of him made her legs tremble with something other than fear. She forced herself to look up at him as he stood in front of her.
“Don’t do this, Chloe. You’ll regret it.”
“I’ve already done the only thing I regret.” She swallowed as her throat caught again. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me withdrawing the sale from you.”
“That’s not what I meant. You can’t afford not to sell the cottage. If you put it back on the market it will set you back several weeks. Think about it.”
Lord. She hadn’t. Not even given it a thought. Not that it mattered. She would see herself destitute before she sold her beloved cottage to him to demolish.
“I sold it easily enough before. It’s a marketable property, excellent location, good decorative order. But I’ll see myself bankrupt before I sell it to the likes of you.”
His jaw set tight as he folded his arms across his chest. “You won’t sell it at all if I slap a compulsory purchase order on it.”
Her stomach dipped to her knees. “You wouldn’t.” Deep down she believed that. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t I? It seems to fall in line with the low opinion you have of me.” He gave her a questioning look then strolled casually over to the window, with the easy confidence of a man who knew he’d played a winning card. “Not many people would be interested in even viewing a property with a CPO hanging over it.”
Chloe stared at his back and tried to consider her next move. Her mind whirled with the implications of Nathan’s threat. Without the money from the sale of the cottage, she would barely be able to make the loan repayments to the bank, let alone finish refurbishing the new premises. And she could forget fixtures and fittings to make the new premises ready for business when the sole agency agreement came through.
She worried her lower lip, contemplating the plush oatmeal carpet as she toyed with the implications of it all. For once, she didn’t have a clue what to do. All she knew was that she wouldn’t sell the cottage to Nathan. Not now. Not when he intended pulling it down, and all her memories along with it.
When she looked up, Nathan was facing her. The sun was at his back, creating a halo effect around his big body. She almost laughed. The words “Nathan” and “halo” didn’t exactly fit together.
“Sit down, Chloe.” He nodded toward the sofa. “Before you refuse, just let me assure you that it’s in your best interests to hear me out.”
Not for a moment did she believe that anything Nathan had to say was in her best interests, but she sat anyway.
He went to his desk and picked up a sheath of papers. “This morning I had a call from my legal department telling me about your late application for sole agency.” He looked up. “Why the hell did you leave it so long? The deadline was up last week.”
“The deadline?” A sharp pain angled beneath her ribcage. “I didn’t know there was a deadline. Anyway, my application wasn’t late. That was a copy my solicitor sent to your legal department. I gave the original to Ryan, and he said—”
“You gave the original to Ryan?”
“Yes. As soon as I confirmed I had bought the new premises at auction, he said he would push my application through.”
“Hold on here just a minute.” Nathan walked around his desk and leaned against the edge of it. His brows drew together in a questioning frown. “You’re saying Ryan agreed to push your application for sole agency on the proviso you agreed to purchase new premises?”
She didn’t care for his tone, or the implications shimmering just under the surface of it. “Don’t you dare make it sound like there was any impropriety in our dealings. Ryan Richards was never anything but helpful and encouraging.”
“I bet he was. My cousin can be both those things when his interests are best served.”
“That tendency obviously runs in the family.” She took perverse pleasure in the stony flash in his eyes. “For your information, Ryan and I had several meetings to discuss my being awarded the sole agency agreement, one of which involved my accountant and my solicitor. Both of whom, I would add, have received little cooperation from your legal department when they try to move things along.”
“Probably because they’re still trying to sort out the mess my cousin left.”
“What?”
Thoughtfully, Nathan stroked long fingers across his jaw. “Did the
sale of your cottage form part of the negotiation?”
“No.” And if he thought it would form part of them now, he was very much mistaken. “Ryan thought the cottage would make a good property for employee rentals, but I had no intention of selling, even though he offered me such a good price.”
“Then he dangled the sole agency agreement in front of you and mentioned there was a property up for auction right at the edge of the marina development.”
“I know what you’re trying to imply, but it wasn’t like that.”
“Even so, you now find yourself having to sell your home to finance your business.”
Was there no end to his treachery? He’d found a way to remind her, not so subtly, that she had no option but to sell her cottage if she was to keep her finances from rocketing out of control. It was pretty obvious, even to her currently muddled thinking, that Ryan Richards’ promises were not about to be honoured by his cousin. She would have to tender for the sole agency contract like every other estate agent in Cleeve Bay.
Was there a veiled threat in there somewhere? Just the tiniest implication of blackmail? If she didn’t let the sale go through, might he actually block her application for sole agency?
“What are you implying, Nathan?” She couldn’t believe how steady her voice sounded, not when her world was crashing down around her ankles. “That my tender won’t be considered at this late stage unless I agree to the sale of my home?”
His laugh was humourless. “That’s my cousin’s style, Chloe. Not mine.”
“Really? Perhaps there’s something you can learn from your cousin’s style that might improve on your own. That of honouring promises.”
He scoffed at that, then pushed away from the desk and came toward her. She moved back as he leaned over her with ominous intent, his face inches from hers, his hands placed either side of her head. “What else did he promise you, Chloe? Or more to the point, what did you promise him?”
She hated herself. Hated that having him close like this made her imagine his mouth on hers. His arms tight around her. Hated that she could want him when he was insulting her in the harshest way a man could insult a woman.
“That’s your style, Nathan,” she countered. “Not mine.”
He watched her steadily, then straightened. Chloe ran her tongue over dry lips, then swallowed. When Nathan moved back to his desk, she took the opportunity to grab her bag.
“I think our business is concluded.” She could only be grateful her knees didn’t give way as she made for the door. “I won’t be selling the cottage to you, and I’ll be withdrawing my tender for sale of the marina apartments. You can try to slap a compulsory purchase order on my property if you like, just know that I’ll fight you with everything I have.”
Her palms felt damp and her fingers trembled, but she managed to turn the door handle. She didn’t know if he said anything, or if she said anything. All she knew was there was a roaring in her head and a pain in her heart. In one fell swoop, she’d destroyed all her plans for her future and said goodbye to the man who had helped her in the process. While the former she would learn to live with, the latter was breaking her heart. But she’d learn to live with that too, she promised herself as she rushed out into the morning sunshine.
While her savings had dwindled down to panic level, the seasonal increase in people buying and selling property meant business was doing well. Spring always seemed to make people think about moving house, and Chloe could only be thankful that at least one area of her life was thriving.
If she had learned anything during this whole mess, it was that you didn’t take verbal promises as having any real value, at least where business was concerned. Having faced Nathan’s contempt over her lack of business savvy and the fact that she had settled for his cousin’s word alone in such a vital business transaction, she had certainly learned her lesson there.
It had been over a week since her disastrous meeting with Nathan, and now her only concrete reminder of him was the waterfront sign advertising the new marina development.
Not that she needed a sign to remind her. He was rarely far from her thoughts, which only went to show what a fool she was. Despite everything she had ever promised herself, she had gone and fallen for him—head over heels. The loss of him hurt so much, exacerbated by his deceit and betrayal.
When she’d lost her parents and her grandparents, she had been powerless to prevent it. They hadn’t wanted to leave, hadn’t set out to hurt her or break her heart. But Nathan? Nathan had done exactly that. He’d planned to leave as soon as the sale of the cottage was finalised, even before he was due to return to Cannes. Had she just been an unexpected bonus to the proceedings all along? His convenient affair?
She fought back tears as she heard Mrs. Rawlins. Chloe was putting the mower away in the little shed at the back of her neighbour’s garden, having just finished doing both their lawns. It had been a ritual for more years than Chloe cared to remember, and through the spring and summer months they had an agreement that Chloe would mow Mrs. Rawlins’s lawns in exchange for being able to store the mower in her shed. Of course, Chloe would have done it anyway, but she hadn’t wanted to hurt the old lady’s pride in being able to strike up a bargain.
“Here you are, dear.” Her kind smile flashed as she handed Chloe her tea in its pretty rosebud cup and saucer. “The lawn looks lovely, thank you.”
Chloe sucked in a satisfied breath as she followed Mrs. Rawlins’s appreciative sweep of the trimmed expanse, enjoying the aroma of freshly cut grass as it tripped headily through her nostrils. She sank into one of the wrought iron garden chairs opposite her neighbour and placed her cup on its matching table. Closing her eyes, she drew in another breath.
“I’m going to miss our little ritual, dear.” The wistful tone of the elderly woman’s voice floated on the gentle breeze. “But at least I won’t have any lawn to worry about at my new home.”
Chloe looked at her neighbour and frowned. “Are you absolutely certain you still want to move? It’s not too late to change your mind, you know.” If Mrs. Rawlins wanted to do that, it would be Chloe’s pleasure to march right down to the offices of Poseidon Holdings and give his lordship the wonderful news.
“Oh, yes. I want to move. This cottage is far too much for me now, and the garden is really only a worry. In my new apartment I have a lovely terrace where I can have a few nice pots, and the view of the harbour is so pretty. I wish you’d come and have a look at it, then you wouldn’t worry about me so much.”
“I will, I promise. It’s just that I’ve been so busy lately.” Not exactly a lie, but she didn’t want anything to do with Nathan Fitzgerald.
“I’m very pleased you’re coming to the Lifeboat Fundraiser,” Mrs. Rawlins said as she sipped her tea. “It’s good that you’ve decided to get out more, and about time if you ask me. Are you bringing a partner?”
Chloe knew a fishing expedition when she heard it, but decided not to take the bait. It was enough she’d decided to go. It was her first sojourn out since the charity ball, and her first attempt at building a proper social life. If she could thank Nathan for one thing it was showing her she was strong enough to open herself up again and accept whatever life offered her—the good, the bad and sometimes, the wonderful. He’d bruised her heart, broken it, but she was still here, wasn’t she? No way was she about to snuggle back into her nest and brood. Not again.
Baby steps, she told herself as her stomach curled. One step at a time.
“I’m going with Bob,” Chloe said as she looked at the lawn and tried not to think of Nathan. “He’s on the committee, so I’ll be helping him give out raffle prizes and stuff.”
Mrs. Rawlins frowned. “I thought you’d finally decided to build a life for yourself outside work. Bob’s a nice boy but there’s no real future in your friendship with him.”
“I know, but I have to start somewhere. Most people stopped inviting me to things a long time ago. I have to build up slowly.”
The
women sat in silence for a while, just sipping their tea. Then Mrs. Rawlins gave a heavy sigh. “Do you know, for all the years I was married to my Jack, we never had a crossed word?”
Chloe searched Mrs. Rawlins’s face, then gave a wry smile. “You’re pulling my leg.”
The old lady laughed. “I just wanted to make sure you’re paying attention. I have something important to say.”
With a smile, Chloe sat back.
“Sometimes life doesn’t give us what we want. It often breaks our hearts and pulls the rug right out from underneath us when we least expect it. What I’m trying to say, dear, is that you mustn’t hold on to the past. You’re a beautiful woman and you have a lot of living ahead of you.”
“I know,” Chloe said. “That’s why I’m going to make more of an effort. I don’t want a life that’s just work anymore, as much as I love it. One day I want a family of my own, I really do. I want to worry about them, cry for them, laugh with them. Mostly I want to be with people, start accepting invites to things, maybe try and develop some new friendships. I know it won’t be easy and I know I’ll get hurt along the way, but I don’t want to shut myself away anymore. I don’t think I can.”
Nathan had opened up too much inside her. He’d unlocked so many parts of her. The parts that could love, hate, desire, hurt—and hope. Whatever happened now, she wanted to experience all those things. Embrace them. She wanted to live a full life.
If she hurt now, if she ached for Nathan, she’d get over it.
“That Mr. Fitzgerald is a lovely man.” Mrs. Rawlins’s shrewd eyes watched Chloe as if she could see right into her head. “I can’t understand why you decided not to sell to him. He gave me a very good price for my cottage and let me have the pick of the lovely apartments.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but then you’re like a daughter to me, so you don’t count as just anyone. Well, do you know that the apartment he offered me was over my budget, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He said I would be doing him a favour if I took that one because he needed it to be a sort of, now what did he call it? That’s right, a show home. He wants me to make sure my terrace always has some lovely pots filled with flowers so that it looks really pretty from the waterfront. He said he’d have a gardener do that for me, as I would really be doing him a favour. Can you imagine? I told him I’d be only too happy to do it myself, loving my garden so much, but he insisted on paying for everything. It was to be just between the two of us. Such a lovely man.”
