“If that was the case then why would I change my tactic now, huh?” His eyes flashed. “If I was really that evil, wouldn’t I see it through to the end?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t.” She headed for the front door, stopping to scoop up her scarf from where she’d hung it next to his coat.
The wind howled outside, shaking the door in its hinges. Outside the skies had darkened—silver clouds turned to charcoal and then black. They ran across the sky.
“What’s really going on here? The point of your trip was to discuss the sale of the estate.” He came toward her but she held up a hand and he halted. “I want to buy it, yet you’re mad that we’re talking terms?”
“I’m mad because I thought there was something real in our time together. That it wasn’t just about sex and business.” She wrapped the scarf around her neck, trying to keep moving so she didn’t break down. “I thought you wanted more.”
“There isn’t more.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. The muscles in his jaw seemed to tense and release, like he was chewing on his words. “I don’t do anything more than business and sex.”
“But you made me believe—”
“If you believed I wanted more that’s because you wanted to believe it, not because I manipulated you.”
His words stung like an open palm across her cheek and she blinked. Her heart squeezed painfully. “I’m glad we settled that.”
“I’m not, but it had to be done. I didn’t intend for things to get so messy.”
“No, of course not.” She reached down and started to pull her boots over her socks and jeans. It was hard to be articulate while trying to shove a foot into a rubber tube, but there was no way she could make it back up the hill without them. “Why would you want to deal with anything so messy and awful as a real relationship?”
“I thought we were clear that this was a temporary thing? I never tried to sell you on forever.”
“Even the fact that you think people need to be ‘sold’ on the idea of forever is sad.”
He grunted. “I thought you of all people would understand my reluctance to get involved. Your fiancé tried to rob you, your parents’ marriage was a sham. My mother was constantly taken advantage of. Why the hell would anyone sign up for that?”
She steadied herself with one hand on the wall and she shoved her other hand into her pocket. “This is why.”
The photo of her parents trembled between her shaking fingers. All the emotion she’d packed down year after year was raging inside her. When she walked out of this cottage she wouldn’t be a girl who cried in the shower anymore, she wouldn’t be a girl who was afraid to go after what she wanted. All that fear had gotten her nowhere.
“This”—she waved the photo in Evan’s face—“is two people who loved one another. Two people that signed up for all the risk because they felt being with the other person was worth it. I want someone who’s going to take that risk with me.”
“I’m not that guy.” His eyes were frostier than the snow-covered ground outside. “You want someone who’ll turn this place into the incredible legacy it deserves? Great. But if not, that’s it. I don’t have anything else to offer you.”
Stella zipped up her coat and headed for the front door. “Then I guess we’re done.”
…
The final days before Christmas stretched out long and mind-meltingly slow. Ordinarily, Evan’s time flew past in a blur of phone calls and emails and site visits. But he found himself unable to concentrate on anything other than Stella. She was still staying at the estate. He’d been living in the cottage so he could finish up the last minute renovations by himself, since Matt was keeping things running from the London office. The knowledge that she was close burrowed under his skin, prickling at him constantly.
Ever since she’d come to visit him at the cottage he’d been in a tailspin. And not for the reason he would have thought, either.
Watching her storm out had left him reeling with a sense of loss and regret. For days, he’d tried to tell himself that it was because he’d buggered any chance of getting his hands on the estate. That he’d screwed up what he thought he wanted. But that wasn’t it.
Evan was reeling because he loved Stella. He was reeling because he’d lost Stella.
As much as he’d wanted to deny it, the facts were there—he couldn’t sleep and found himself constantly wanting to throw things. He’d bitten Matt’s head off over something tiny and had even caught himself trying to come up with reasons to go up to the estate just so he could catch a glimpse of her. Not that a glimpse did much, because she had “stay the hell away” written all over her. The one time he’d tried to be cordial she’d literally walked away from him mid-sentence.
She opened up to you and you told her the feelings were all in her head. What the fuck do you expect?
His phone vibrated and Matt’s picture flashed on the screen. “Hey.”
“Is it safe to talk to you yet?” Matt joked. Noise on the other end of the line told Evan that his friend was calling from the road. “Or should I just wait until the New Year?”
“It’s fine. What’s up?”
“I’ve finished up at the office. Figured you’d be okay if I made an early break to beat the Christmas Eve traffic.” The blare of a horn interrupted him. “I’m taking Mel out to meet the folks.”
“Wow. So you’re serious about proposing?” Evan leaned back against the kitchen counter and shook his head.
“Like a bloody heart attack.” Matt laughed. “I’ve got the ring and everything.”
“She’d be crazy to say yes.”
“And I’m crazy to blow a few thousand pounds on a stone. But what’s the point of living if you don’t do some risky crap like that, am I right?”
“Whatever makes you happy, man.” He paused. “And I am happy for you, for the record.”
“I was starting to wonder.”
“I’ve just got a lot of shit going on here.” He blew out a long breath. “Stella’s been avoiding me after the argument and I’m…”
“You’re what?”
“I don’t even know. I’m no good at this stuff. I’m not…” He grunted. “I’m not a relationship person. I don’t know how to fix this.”
“You can’t fix it.”
Evan blinked. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“That’s not what I meant. Women are complex creatures, my friend. You can’t fix something because that implies it’s within your control. It’s not.”
He could practically see Matt’s expression—that cross between concentration and amusement that for once he got to explain the ways of the world to Evan and not the other way around. Smug bastard.
“Why wouldn’t I have control? I can talk to her, I can…” He grappled for the right word. “Say sorry.”
“Yes, but the fact that you’re going to her for forgiveness means you’re losing control. She’s the one who determines what happens next because she can either accept your olive branch or she can tell you to sod off.” Matt chuckled. “I’m putting my money on the latter.”
“Me too,” he muttered.
“You want my advice? Drop the agenda. If you go to her asking for nothing, then she’ll know you’re being genuine.”
Agenda? His first instinct was to deny it, but Matt was right. The whole time he’d been with Stella their relationship—or whatever the hell it was—had been tainted by the fact that he wanted something from her. It’d gotten between them, even when they’d agreed to put it to the side. Unfortunately, life couldn’t be sectioned off as neatly as he’d like. The problem was that none of their time together had been just about them—there was always something hanging overhead. Their personal baggage was well over the allowed limit, and the added pressure of the estate only made it harder to cut through the extraneous crap.
“You still there?” Matt asked.
“I gotta go.” He needed to sift through his thoughts and figure out what to do next. Just
because the power was in Stella’s hands didn’t mean he couldn’t give the odds a nudge in the right direction. “I hope it goes well with Mel and that she doesn’t slap you in the face or anything.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t bullshit me, I know you’d love it.”
“Too right.”
“You have a good Christmas, Ev.”
“You too, man.”
He set the phone back down on the kitchen counter and sighed. He had a day and a half before Stella was due to fly back to Australia and he was going to make sure that she knew exactly how he felt before then.
Chapter Seventeen
The estate had felt quiet when Stella arrived, but now it was practically a ghost town. There was a fine line between peaceful and eerie, apparently.
She cradled a cup of tea in her hands, her eyes drawn to the flickering lights of the Christmas tree. It really was a magnificent tree and the fresh-pine scent was something that couldn’t be replicated by candles or room sprays. She already knew that her plastic tree—high quality as it was—would never live up to the real deal in the Christmases to come. And now that she’d experienced how good the real thing could be, nothing would match up ever again.
Are we still talking about the tree?
Sighing, she placed the teacup and saucer down on the coffee table. Maybe she should have tried to re-book her flight home, instead of sitting around in this giant, empty house. The only person beside herself who would stay on for Christmas Day was Ethel, since the older woman was adamant that she shouldn’t spend the holiday alone. But the rest of the staff had packed their things and gone home to their families, at Stella’s insistence.
Her gaze snagged on the large window that looked out to the front of the estate, down the rolling green hill on which it was perched, out to the sprawling countryside. The sky had grown dark early today, and occasionally the sweep of headlights lit up the road that ran along the bottom of the estate. But it was another light that had Stella’s attention. The gentle golden glow that flickered from a spot down the hill. The cottage.
Regret clutched at her heart, squeezing like a tight fist.
On the walk back up from the cottage after her argument with Evan, she was convinced that it was best for her to leave. All she had to do was change her flight and pack her bags. But the second she walked through the front door, she knew she couldn’t do it. She’d made a promise and she would bloody well keep it. Evan wasn’t going to take that from her.
In the days that followed, her anger had melted away like the snow that’d covered the hills. What was once shiny and glitteringly bright, was now a patchy, muddy mess. But Stella had done something she’d never attempted before—being vulnerable. Sure, she hadn’t come right out and told Evan that she loved him. But she’d made her feelings known and she hadn’t packed them away like she usually did.
While it hadn’t yielded the outcome that she wanted, it did make her proud. The trip to England had given her many things—the truth about her parents, a steamy fling with a guy who turned out to be so much more than she’d assumed. But more than that, it had given her a renewed interest in her life.
Even if she walked away with nothing, she’d return to Australia and make something of herself. Maybe she’d quit her job and go into business for herself; there were plenty of places that could use a freelance event planner. Maybe she’d travel. Find the best surf beaches around the world and just ride wave after wave until she figured out her next step.
The thought sent a tremor of excitement through her.
All she knew for certain was that she would sell the estate. To Evan.
Everything that he’d done—keeping it going after her grandfather passed and renovating the cottage for Ethel—showed he had a sense of responsibility for the place. Plus, she knew he’d make sure her family’s name was respected and that he’d do his best to breathe new life into the estate. It would be stupid to let her personal feelings for the man get in the way of making the right decision.
And he’d made a very good point—the estate wasn’t her tie to her family. It was all the memories she and her grandfather had collected, the photos and letters. The softness in her heart.
Footsteps in the foyer echoed through the house and Stella pushed up from the couch. Ethel must be getting ready for dinner. She wrapped her soft cardigan around herself and padded into the next room. “Hey, Ethel. Are we—”
Her words were cut short at the sight of Evan leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. A black leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders and strong arms, the silver zipper open to reveal a soft green shirt underneath. A scarf hung open around his neck, the ends brushing the dark denim encasing his legs. Her mouth dried instantly.
“I’m not Ethel,” he said with a crooked smile.
That was for damn sure. “Yes.” She swallowed and wrapped her arms around herself. “I worked that one out for myself. What do you want?”
“I’ve come to pick you both up for dinner.”
Stella blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I figured it would be a lot of work to use the big kitchen for such a small meal. So I got us some food from in town. There’s a nice loaf of Italian bread, some cheese, a couple bottles of wine.” He raked a hand through his hair, but it flopped stubbornly back over his eye. “I told Ethel that we’d eat down at the cottage for old time’s sake.”
“You’re going to surprise her.” She fought back the smile that wanted to burst forth on her lips. Dammit, why did he have to be so sweet?
“If you’re still okay with it.”
“I am.” She cleared her throat. “Actually, I was going to email you about the estate when I got back home. I’ve made a decision regarding the sale.”
This time he didn’t press her for details. In fact, it almost looked as though he didn’t want to talk about it. “Why don’t we leave the business talk for later? Let’s have dinner and give Ethel her present, then we can deal with the other stuff after.”
Stella raised a brow. “I’ll go and get Ethel so you can take her now.”
“The dinner offer is for both of you, Stella. I want you to be there, too.”
“Look, I’m not sure whether this is because you feel sorry for me or something. But I don’t need your charity, I—”
“It’s dinner. Not charity.” He stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. The gesture wasn’t tender or caring, but barely restrained. Like he wanted to touch her but wasn’t sure how. “Put your shoes on. I’ll find Ethel.”
“I really don’t think this is a good idea…”
“Please.”
She wasn’t sure how one little word could hit her with such force, but it did. Please. It wasn’t a word he used often, since Evan didn’t usually ask permission for anything. He acted, he fought, and he demanded. But he didn’t ask.
Until now.
“Okay, fine.” She brushed his hand away and made her way up the stairs.
She could easily have been stubborn about it and chosen to have a dinner of wine and crackers in the estate by herself. But truth be told, she wanted to see the look on Ethel’s face when she saw the cottage. And maybe she wanted to share a meal with Evan one last time…
…
Evan’s heart thudded as he drove the car slowly down the path that led to the bottom of the estate. Their “white Christmas” was really more of a brown and green Christmas with the snow having melted down to slush the previous night. That was the reality, wasn’t it? The images on postcards were a fantasy, an ideal. And life didn’t play to ideals.
In the back of his car, Stella rested her forehead against the window. She’d barely said a word so far and Ethel prattled next to him, filling the awkward silence with her comforting chatter. Tonight was going to be a gamble, but so far everything was playing out the way he’d planned it.
The cottage was ready. He’d arranged for a cleaner to come through in the morning—paying double to get someone on such short notice so close
to Christmas—but it’d been worth it. The place sparkled. He’d even spotted a bunch of flowers while he was out getting the dinner provisions and had stuck them in a water glass on the table, since he couldn’t find something more appropriate to put them in.
Provided he didn’t somehow piss Stella off and send her storming out of the cottage for a third time, he’d planned to drive her back up to the estate after dinner and convince her to hear him out. Well, ideally he’d convince her to do more than that…but he’d take it one step at a time.
“I still don’t know why we need to eat down here, Evan,” Ethel said, raising a silver brow at him. “I could have fixed something up at the estate to save us driving in the dark.”
“It’s okay, I’m not scared of the dark.” He winked at her and she shook her head.
“You might be a grown man, Evan Foss. But I will not hesitate to whip your behind if you back chat me.”
In the rear-view mirror, he caught a smile twitching on Stella’s lips.
“I simply thought it might be nice for the three of us to eat somewhere intimate, instead of in that big dining room.” He steered the car into the gravel area outside the cottage.
“So long as you don’t drink too much and expect me to walk back up the hill,” she said as they pulled up in front of the cottage’s door. “These old legs aren’t what they used to be.”
“You have my word. I’ll keep the wine to a minimum.” He put his hand over his heart to show he was extra sincere.
As his eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror again, he caught Stella’s attention but the smile dropped from her lips the second she saw he was watching her. Tonight would be tough, it was clear she didn’t want to be around him. But, as Matt had said, he was not in control for once. The thought made his skin prickle. Letting go of control terrified him.
But trying to be constantly in control hadn’t worked for him when it came to Stella, so he’d be letting go and hoping he didn’t fall flat on his back.
Stella was out of the car and trying to help Ethel up to the front door, which earned her a swat against the arm. Evan stifled a laugh. Ethel didn’t need help from anyone, or so she said. But he’d seen her slowing down over the past two years, struggling with the stairs and stopping to catch her breath more and more. She only did it when she thought people weren’t watching, which worried him. But hopefully this solution might give her the space and confidence to slow down, without worrying that she’d be left on her own.
Millionaire Under the Mistletoe Page 18
