‘We all have our demons, don’t we?’ she murmured. ‘Hopefully some of the people here will find their other halves who are happy to share their demons. This place was just made for love and romance. It’s so, so beautiful. Definite brochure material.’
She was in love with him and, now that she had faced that reality, she could understand why she had fallen. There was so much to him, so many sides, so many complexities. No one would ever come close to matching him and that was something she would have to accept. But...he had just shared with her and she feverishly wondered if that meant anything.
She couldn’t help herself. Her brain veered off at a tangent as she tried to analyse whether that door that had opened, through which she had been allowed a peep at a side of him he hadn’t shared with anyone, meant anything.
One batch of guests had left, or most of them. Several had, indeed, left with promises to meet in the outside world. Cupid had landed a few arrows. Now, with the lights of the resort twinkling around them, Ellie could see a new lot of guests gathering, awkwardly making polite conversation.
The group numbered about twenty. Most were in the same age bracket as the group that had just departed—middle-aged men and women in search of a dream, or else happy for companionship with a member of the opposite sex.
But there were slightly more younger people, and one in particular stood out because she was taller than the rest, with the bold, dramatic looks of a catwalk model.
She was peering around her through slanted eyes. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in a poker-straight sheet, as smooth as silk. Her clothes, Ellie noted, were as impractical as hers had been when she had first arrived on the island, but for different reasons. Whilst Ellie had come equipped for business meetings, the blonde model had come equipped for man-eating. Her dress was ridiculously tight and ridiculously short and her heels were ludicrously high—stilettoes that catapulted her to over six feet. Next to her was an expensive-looking suitcase and a smaller, matching pull-along.
The blonde made eye contact with them and the flash of instant recognition was not, Ellie knew, for her. That flash of recognition was for Niccolo, who had stopped dead in his tracks.
Ellie felt his stillness and went cold.
‘Friend of yours?’ she joked, but her voice was high pitched and falsely cheerful.
‘I know the woman, yes,’ Niccolo answered, without glancing down at Ellie.
Ellie’s heart clenched. She had wondered about the women he’d dated and now she knew. Women with the sort of looks that could eclipse most mere mortals. Women who garnered second and third stares, and accepted grovelling attention from men as their rightful due.
The woman in question was sashaying towards them, each leggy stride sexy, undulating and unhurried. She scooped the blonde hair back with one hand and shoved the mane over a shoulder. She was beginning to smile as she focused on Niccolo with every ounce of her attention.
Ellie had been rendered invisible and, the closer the woman got to them, the more invisible she felt. She had shrunk to the size of a matchstick by the time the blonde was standing in front of them, with eyes only for Niccolo.
‘I hoped I’d find you here, Nicky,’ she purred. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I was told that you were holed up on some island in the middle of nowhere, but it all made sense when I found out that you actually practically owned the damn thing!’
‘Amy, I’d like you to meet Eleanor. Eleanor, this is Amy Carter. We knew one another a while ago.’
‘Nine months, darling. Hardly a while ago.’ She smiled, curled her fingers into the neck of his shirt and tugged him playfully towards her. Then she squinted down at Ellie and stared at her with cold blue eyes for a few seconds. ‘Darling...’ She tilted her head to one side to flash Niccolo a meltingly beautiful smile. ‘Would you mind terribly skipping off so that Nicky and I can have a little chat?’
Ellie’s mouth dropped open. Skipping off? Had she suddenly turned into the hired help, told what to do by one of the guests?
‘I... I...’
Her brain screamed, Who the heck do you think you are? Get lost! Her mouth, however, was opening and shutting like a stranded goldfish and nothing was coming out.
‘Would you mind, Ellie?’ Niccolo finally looked at her with a shuttered expression. ‘I won’t be long.’
CHAPTER TEN
THERE WAS ONE thing Ellie was not going to do—she was not going to kick up a jealous fuss. She was not going to give any indication that she had spent an hour and a half fuming and imagining all sorts of things. She definitely was not going to utter those immortal words of a dyed-in-the-wool harridan: What time do you call this...?
But she couldn’t busy herself in her bedroom pretending that nothing was wrong. She was sitting upright in one of the wicker chairs in the airy sitting room when Niccolo finally made it back to the villa.
‘You’re back,’ she said, turning as he pushed open the door and entered the room, moving to pour himself a whisky and soda from the built in-bar that was restocked on a daily basis with every imaginable drink and plentiful supplies of ice.
Niccolo paused and looked at her with a thoughtful expression. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t be?’
Ellie reddened and tilted her head defiantly. ‘Who knows?’ She hated the shrill, cutting edge to her voice. ‘Gorgeous blonde ex appears out of nowhere, sends me skipping off on my way and that’s the last I see of you for nearly two hours! On our last evening here.’
With a future that was as hazy as summer mist because nothing had been discussed. Things had been shared, hopes raised, but it felt like a mirage. And now this.
Niccolo’s lips thinned and he spun round on his heels and poured his drink without saying a word.
Then he remained where he was, leaning against the bar, feet loosely crossed at the ankles.
Was it any wonder jealousy was tearing her apart? Ellie thought miserably. He was just so unfairly sexy, and to be pursued and cornered here by a woman who could stop a bus in its tracks with her superb good looks, looks that matched his... Well, what man wouldn’t stand back, look at the plain Jane he had been sleeping with and do the predictable comparisons?
Of course, she’d known what she’d fallen in love with. She’d fallen for a guy who was out of her league. Too rich, too good-looking, too powerful, too...everything. Forget about the fact that they weren’t suited to one another on a fundamental level. On a superficial level, they were chalk and cheese, but while they’d been here she had been able to kid herself that there was a connection.
The leggy blonde bombshell had thrown that all into perspective and it was like having a jagged-edged knife plunged into the core of her.
Ellie could have dealt with picking up the pieces in the quiet of her little life back in London. She would have fantasised that, even if they hadn’t ended up together, it was because he was a commitment-phobe and not because there hadn’t been a real connection.
He’d opened up to her, hadn’t he?
But the blonde had stripped her of that illusion and shown their brief affair for what it was—the attraction felt by a man who could have anyone towards the one woman who had put up a fight. Even though the fight hadn’t exactly lasted very long.
‘I won’t be explaining myself to you,’ he said coolly, ‘If that’s where this hissy fit is going.’
‘I am not throwing a hissy fit!’
‘No?’ he drawled, sipping the drink and looking at her impassively over the rim of the glass. ‘Well, you’re certainly giving an excellent impression of doing that. Hissy fits turn me off.’
Ellie gazed at him helplessly and he stared back at her in complete silence until she looked away. She was shaking. She sat on her hands while the blood rushed through her, hot and furious, bringing her out in a fine film of perspiration.
‘I warned you not to get attached,’ he told her, voice calm, even and dispassionate, although inside a stab of guilt was making the pulse in his temple throb.
&n
bsp; She looked so damned young, sitting there like a chastised school kid, as fresh and as innocently sweet as the ex he had just dispatched had been hard and anything but innocently sweet.
This was his fault. He should never have gone there. But he had been greedy for an experience that promised to satisfy his jaded palate and then, when he should have stopped, he had continued because the enjoyment had been addictive.
He should have listened to the warning bells which had started ringing from the very first words she had uttered—all that romantic clap trap about soul mates and happy-ever-afters—and had culminated in her admission that she had never slept with anyone before.
And then, he had told her things he had never told anyone else and he still couldn’t fathom what had possessed him.
‘I couldn’t help it.’ Ellie didn’t bother with the pointless charade of pretending that she had no idea what he was going on about. She lifted clear eyes to his. ‘I never meant to get emotionally involved, but I won’t deny that I have, which is why I’m here—’ she smiled sadly ‘—behaving like the sort of person I hoped I’d never be.’
Niccolo drained his glass. He could have told her that he had sent the ex back to London on his private jet without even giving her time to unpack her bags. He could have told her that Amy Carter was a bunny boiler and he had blessed the day he’d booted her out of his life nine months ago. But he was in a dangerous place and placating her did not strike him as the best of ideas.
Of course, things would have to end between them, and something twisted inside. He clenched his teeth together, suddenly in need of another stiff drink.
‘Have you eaten?’ he asked politely. ‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to have dinner with you. I’ve ignored pressing work concerns and I feel that I might use the rest of the evening to remind myself that I have a job to do. Tomorrow reality is going to make its appearance and I have several reports that have been languishing untouched.’
Emotions chased each other on her face, hurt giving way to comprehension, giving way to quiet acceptance. Each was a further twist of guilt inside him because he had caused those emotions. He’d been selfish and arrogant and, never having been one to explain or justify his behaviour, was feeling what it was like to want to explain and justify his behaviour.
The less dialogue, however, the better. He didn’t want to initiate any kind of conversation that might encourage her to think that there was something there that could be cultivated against all odds.
There was nothing.
Niccolo hit a wall of bleakness, which was new and unsettling. He had always accepted that his priorities were not the priorities of other men. Of course, he enjoyed the company of women, but he wasn’t cut out for love, not the kind of love that most women craved. Not the kind of love that Ms Eleanor Wilson craved and deserved.
It wasn’t just because he’d had one bad experience. Most people recovered from a bad experience. For the first time in his life, Niccolo considered the train of events that had moulded him into the man he had turned out to be. He was at the top of the pecking order when it came to money and success but when it came to emotional fulfilment—the sort of fulfilment he saw in his two married sisters—well, that was something he had always accepted he would never have, and had been rather pleased with himself for being able to intellectualise that reality. No kidding himself, just honest acceptance of fact.
He’d messed up big time once and wasn’t going to repeat the mistake, but also...
Ellie had made him think of his father, had made him remember those words spoken when he had just been a kid, that promise made to take care of his family, to be the man of the house. He had adhered to that oath and had never been released from it.
For better or for worse. It was a marriage of sorts when you thought about it.
He smiled wryly. This was how he was and he was never going to change.
‘Of course,’ Ellie said, banking down the tears and smiling at him, ‘I’m sorry I fell for you. You were very fair and gave me sufficient warnings. But I’m not unhappy that I did and I’ll be fine.’
‘Good.’ He hovered. He didn’t want to leave her, and he decided that that was understandable, because only a callous bastard would have been able to turn his back on her without a twinge of conscience.
‘There’s a chance I might have to travel to Hong Kong sooner than expected, so you won’t be dealing with me in all likelihood when your pitch is completed. And, for your information, the job is yours. I’ll get my person to email your agency with the formalities.’ He forced himself to sever all ties. A clean break, no backward glances.
‘Yes,’ Ellie said politely. ‘I understand. I’ll be able to get the entire package across to you by the end of next week. Would that be okay?’
‘That would be fine.’ Niccolo tilted his head to one side and glowered at her with brooding intensity.
But in the end, Ellie was the one to leave the room, walking past him with her head held high and only collapsing when she was in her bedroom, back pressed against the closed door, eyes squeezed tightly shut against a future that stretched out ahead of her like a never-ending, black void.
* * *
Ellie eyed the suitcase standing in the middle of the room and stifled a sob of misery.
It was astounding to think that a handful of days, during which her life had been changed for ever, lay in that little suitcase. A collection of floaty, rainbow-coloured tropical garments which she had brought back with her three weeks ago. She hadn’t had the heart to bin the lot because they had cost a small fortune, but neither was she going to keep any of them, so she had had them all cleaned, had packed them into the suitcase she had travelled out with and now here was that suitcase, ready and waiting to be taken to one of the charity shops on the high street.
She would drop it off on the way to visit her parents. There was no rush for her to get back to London because there was no job for her to return to. Sleeping with Niccolo had not only opened a door to heartbreak but had kick-started a domino effect in her life that had culminated in her breaking away from the agency she had helped to build. Her partners had agreed to buy her out, though they’d both been sorry to dissolve their partnership. Her last day had been on Friday and that was that. For the first time, her life had become an unravelling ball of string, and she didn’t know how or where to start to gather back up the strands so that she could turn them into something halfway recognisable as her life.
For once, she couldn’t wait to see her parents. They would sweep her up, ply her with cups of herbal tea and her mother would press a few crystals on her and tell her all about their healing properties.
For once, Ellie would not be judgemental, because she had discovered, to her cost, that training your life to follow the path laid down by common sense and practicality was not always possible. Control had a way of slipping away and for the first time Ellie could understand how that happened. She knew that she could never be the free spirit her parents had been in their youth but neither was she the buttoned up, blinkered woman she had trained herself to be. Not any more.
Time and again since Niccolo had walked away from her, she had told herself that that was a good thing. She just actually had to start believing it, because right now all she wanted to do was curl up and abandon herself to memories of Niccolo and what they had shared.
She had given up on hearing from him. She’d known that he wasn’t going to get in touch but, still, she’d hoped. Hoped that he’d read those ugly headlines that had been splashed across the tabloids, waiting for her when she got back to London—billionaire struck by Cupid’s arrow on his own Love Island. Except the humiliating truth was very far removed from that. He’d dodged the arrow which had whistled right past him and embedded itself into her. She’d told him how she felt. She’d wanted him so badly just to give them a chance, and she’d just kept on hoping that at some point he’d have a rethink and get in touch.
Heading into the bedroom for a last-minute check
, and also to fetch the bag she had packed to take to her parents, Ellie made a monumental effort to look forward and not back. She had something quick to eat and then she was off, and when she returned to her little house one door would be shut and hopefully she would be able to see another one opening.
* * *
‘What do you mean, she doesn’t work there any more?’
This was the first time Niccolo had actually involved himself in the advertising campaign for his hotel in a number of weeks. In fact, ever since he had left the island, leaving behind a sleeping ex-lover tucked up in her own bed and catching a series of connecting flights that had delivered him halfway across the world.
He had felt like a cad doing his disappearing act but it had been for the best. He would have been able to handle the enforced proximity of both of them being in the villa on that last day, but she most certainly would not. She had invested in him and he knew that his continuing presence would have been an unsettling source of unhappiness for her. So he had done the decent thing and removed himself from the situation, ordering his own jet to return from where it had dropped Amy back in London to collect Ellie.
But he’d still felt like a cad.
Clean break, he had told himself, burying himself in a series of high-level business dealings, first in Hong Kong, then in Australia.
Phoning to find out how she was doing didn’t come under the heading of ‘clean break’.
Some vague nonsense had hit his ears, thanks to his sisters, about their brief fling becoming public knowledge thanks to Amy—who had returned to London and promptly got her own back, it would seem, by telling a scandal-hungry gossip column about the affair between him and Ellie. Niccolo had very firmly sat on that and told his nosy siblings that they could stop trying to press him for details about something that no longer existed.
If he’d winced when he’d said that, it was only to be expected, given how things had ended between himself and Ellie.
It was frustrating that work had not done what it should have done. He hadn’t been able to focus and, the harder he’d tried to nail down why he was still thinking of her, the more frustrated he had become.
A Deal for Her Innocence Page 15
