by Douglas, Michelle; Gordon, Lucy; Pembroke, Sophie; Hardy, Kate
Maybe he’d got the closure he needed. Maybe he was thinking ahead to leaving the day after tomorrow. To selling This Minute to Glasshouse and moving on to his new life. Thea could see how that might be appealing. Not that she had that option. She didn’t want out of this family—she wanted in.
Besides, Zeke had been gone eight years already and still not really moved on. What reason was there to believe he’d be able to put it all behind him for real this time?
Isabella and Flynn kept up the small talk across the table through all three courses. Thea drank her wine too quickly and tried to pretend her head wasn’t spinning. And then, as the waiters came round to pour the coffee, her father stood up and clinked his fork against his glass.
‘Oh, no,’ Thea whispered. ‘What’s he doing?’
Flynn patted her hand reassuringly, somehow managing to make her even more nervous.
‘I know tonight isn’t the night for big speeches,’ Thomas Morrison said. ‘And, trust me, I’ll have the traditional light, adoring and entertaining father of the bride speech for you all tomorrow. But I wanted to say a few words tonight for those of you who’ve been so close to our family all these years. Who’ve seen us through our dark times as well as our triumphs.’
‘Which explains why almost everyone here is a business associate,’ Helena muttered, leaning across towards Thea. ‘We’ve barely seen any family since Mum died.’
‘Shh...’ Isabella said, without moving her lips or letting her attentive smile slip.
‘You all know that getting here, to this happy event, hasn’t always been a smooth path. And let me say candidly that I am both delighted and relieved that Thea has finally made a decision in her personal life that’s as good as the ones she makes at work!’
The laughter that followed buzzed in Thea’s ears, but she barely heard it. Her body felt frozen, stiff and cold and brittle. And she knew, suddenly, that even marrying Flynn wouldn’t be enough. To her father she’d still always be a liability. A mistake just waiting to happen.
‘And I want to say thank you to the person who has made all this possible,’ Thomas went on, waving his arm expansively to include the food, the villa, and presumably, the wedding itself.
Thea held her breath, bracing herself for the blow she instinctively knew was coming next.
‘My dear, dear friend, Isabella Ashton.’
More applause—the reverent sort this time. People were nodding their heads along with her father’s words, and Isabella was blushing prettily, her smile polite but pleased.
Thea thought she might actually be sick.
‘So, let us all raise our glasses to the mother of the groom and the woman who has been as a mother to the bride for the last twelve years.’
Chairs were scraped back as people stood, and the sound grated in her ears. Wasn’t it enough that she’d given them all what they wanted? She was marrying the families together, securing their future, their lineage, and the future of their business. And even today, the night before her wedding, she wasn’t worthy of her father’s approval, or love.
Thea staggered to her feet, clutching the edge of the table, as the guests lifted their glasses and chanted, ‘Isabella!’ Even Flynn, next to her, had his wine in the air and was smiling at his mother, utterly unaware of how his fiancée’s heart had just been slashed with glass.
It was almost as if she wasn’t there at all.
* * *
Zeke watched Thea’s face grow paler as Thomas wound up his ridiculous speech. Who said something like that about his own daughter the day before her wedding? Especially when that daughter was Thea. He had to know how sensitive she was about her perceived mistakes, surely? And then to toast Isabella instead... That had been just cruel and callous.
Maybe he truly didn’t care. Not if he could get in a good joke, amuse his business associates... Zeke ground his teeth as he waited for his coffee to cool. He’d never been Thomas Morrison’s biggest fan, but right then he loathed the man more than he’d ever thought possible.
Thomas sat down to a round of applause and more laughter, and Zeke saw Thea visibly flinch. Flynn, however, was shaking his father-in-law-to-be’s hand and smiling as if nothing had happened. As if he couldn’t see how miserable Thea was. He was going to marry her tomorrow and he couldn’t even see when her heart was breaking.
Zeke gulped down his rage at his brother along with his coffee. All that mattered was getting Thea the hell out of there.
Helena appeared over his left shoulder suddenly, pushing something cold and bottle-shaped into his hand. ‘Go on,’ she said, nodding towards Thea. ‘I’ll cover for you both here.’
‘Thanks,’ Zeke murmured, keeping the bottle of champagne below table level as he stood. Catching Thea’s eye, he raised his eyebrows and headed for the door, not waiting to see if she followed. Helena would make sure that she did.
Outside on the terrace the air held just a little bite—a contrast to the blazing sun he’d walked back in earlier. Dropping onto the swing seat, Zeke held up the bottle and read the label. The good stuff, of course. Old Thomas wouldn’t serve anything less while he was insulting his daughter in front of everyone she’d ever met. Shame Helena hadn’t thought to provide glasses... Although, actually, swigging expensive champagne from the bottle with Thea brought back its own collection of memories.
The door to the hallway opened and Thea appeared, her face too pale against her dark hair and blood-red dress. Her skin seemed almost translucent in the moonlight, and suddenly Zeke wanted to touch it so badly he ached.
‘Have a seat,’ he said, waving the bottle over the empty cushion beside him. ‘I think your sister thought you might need this.’
‘She was right.’ Thea dropped onto the seat next to him, sending the whole frame swinging back and forth. ‘Although why she decided I also needed you is beyond me.’
‘Ouch.’ Unwrapping the wire holding it in place, Zeke eased the cork out of the neck of the bottle. He didn’t want the pop, the fizz, the explosion. Just the quiet opening and sharing of champagne with Thea. To show her that he knew tonight was about her, even if no one else seemed to.
‘Oh, you know what I mean,’ Thea said, reaching over to take the bottle from him. ‘We’re not having the best day, apart from anything else.’
‘I don’t know what you’re complaining about,’ Zeke said. ‘You weren’t the one left in the middle of nowhere in the blazing heat.’
Thea winced, and handed him the bottle back. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘No, you’re not.’ Zeke lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a long, sweet drink. The bubbles popped against his throat and he started to relax for the first time that day.
‘Well, maybe just a little bit. You deserved it, though.’
‘For telling the truth?’
‘For kissing me.’
‘Ah. That.’
‘Yeah, that.’
Zeke passed the bottle back and they sat in silence for a long moment, the only sound the occasional wave of laughter from inside or the squeaking of the hinges on the swing.
‘I’m not actually all that sorry about that, either,’ Zeke said finally.
Thea sighed. ‘Yeah. Me neither. Maybe we needed it. You know—for closure, or whatever you were going on about.’
‘Actually, your sister helped me with that more than you did.’
Thea swung round to stare at him, eyes wide. ‘Tell me you have not been kissing my sister this afternoon.’
‘Or what?’
‘Or I’ll drink the rest of this champagne myself.’ She took a long swig to prove her point.
Zeke laughed. ‘Okay, fine. I have not been kissing Helena. This afternoon or any other.’
‘Good.’
‘Not that it would be any of your business if I had.’
‘She’s my sister,’ Thea said, handing back the champagne at last. ‘She’ll always be my business.’
‘But not your responsibility,’ Zeke said. ‘She’s an adult now, Thea. She can take care of herself.’
‘Perhaps.’ Thea studied him carefully. ‘When you said that Helena had helped you find closure...what did you mean?’
Zeke tipped his head back against the swing cushion. ‘She told me some of what happened. Things I didn’t know. About what really happened the night of your eighteenth birthday. Why you didn’t come with me. And about what happened next.’
He heard the breath leave Thea’s lungs in a rush. ‘She told you? About the...?’
‘About what happened to her. And about the baby.’ He rolled his head to the left to watch her as he added, ‘And how it really wasn’t your fault.’
Thea looked away. ‘That’s up for debate.’
‘No. It isn’t.’ No response. ‘Thea. Look at me.’
She didn’t. ‘Why?’
‘Because I’m about to say something that matters and I want to be sure that you’re listening to me.’
Slowly she lifted her head and her gaze met his. Zeke felt it like a jolt to the heart—the connection he’d thought they’d lost was suddenly right there. Part of him again after all these years.
‘Whatever mistakes you think you’ve made in your life, Thea, that wasn’t one of them. You cannot make yourself responsible for what those boys did to her.’
‘My father did,’ Thea whispered. ‘I was in charge. I was responsible. And I let her go out.’
‘No.’ He had to make her understand. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her closer, still keeping them face to face, until she was pressed up against his chest. ‘Listen to me, Thea. It wasn’t your fault. And you can’t live your whole life as if it was.’
* * *
Thea stared up into his eyes for a long moment. They were filled with such sincerity, such certainty. Why could she never feel that way about her life? That unshakeable conviction that whatever choice she made was the right one. That fearlessness in the face of mistakes.
Of course in Zeke it also led to occasional unbearable smugness, so maybe she was better off without.
Swallowing, Thea pulled away, and Zeke let her go. ‘Is that what you think I’m doing?’
‘I know it,’ Zeke said, unbearable smugness firmly in place.
‘You’re wrong, you know,’ she said conversationally, looking down at her hands.
Part of her still couldn’t believe that Helena had really told him everything. She’d barely discussed it with Thea ever since it happened. As far as she knew Helena had never willingly told anyone else about it—something their father and Isabella had been in full support of. After all, why make a scandal when you can hide one? And coming so soon after Zeke running away... Well, no one wanted to make headlines again. Thea assumed that Ezekiel Senior knew, but maybe not. Isabella had taken care of everything. Maybe she’d never seen the need to brief him on the shocking events.
‘Am I? As far as I can see you stayed eight years ago for Helena, and because you were scared. And now—’
‘I made the right decision eight years ago,’ Thea interrupted. Because if he had to know everything at least he could admit that much. ‘And I don’t regret it for a moment.’
‘Fair enough,’ Zeke said, more amicably than she’d expected. ‘And we’ll never know how things might have worked out if Helena hadn’t gone out that night, or if she’d waited one more day to tell you about it. But the point is Helena’s all grown up now. She doesn’t need you to protect her any more. And yet you’re still staying.’
She shook her head. ‘My whole life is here. My place is here.’
‘Is it?’ He gripped her arm, tightly enough that she had to pay attention. ‘They pushed you out, Thea.’
The coldness that settled over her was familiar. The same chill she’d felt that whole summer after Zeke had left. ‘You don’t...you don’t know what it was like.’
‘Helena told me. She told me everything.’
But that wasn’t enough. A description, a few words—it couldn’t explain how it felt to have your whole existence peeled away from you. She wasn’t sure if even she could explain it to him. But she knew she had to try...had to make him understand somehow.
‘It was as if I’d stopped even existing,’ she whispered in the end. ‘I couldn’t be what Dad needed, so there was no place for me any more. I wasn’t good enough for him.’
Zeke’s grip loosened, but just enough to pull her against his body. She could feel his heart, thumping away in his chest, and the memory of how his arms had always felt like home cut deeper now.
‘Then why are you trying so hard to get back in? Surely you can see you’re better off without him. Without all of them.’
‘You think I should run away, like you?’ She pulled back enough to give him a half-smile. ‘This is my place. Besides, where else would I go, Zeke?’
‘Anywhere! Anywhere you can be yourself. Live your own life. Not make decisions about your personal happiness based on what is best for the family business, or what our fathers want you to do. Anywhere in the world, Thea.’ He paused, just for a moment, then added, ‘You could even come with me, if you wanted.’
Thea’s heart stopped dead in her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t process what he was saying...
‘I’m marrying Flynn tomorrow.’ The words came out without her permission, and she watched Zeke’s eyes turn hard as she spoke.
‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Seriously, Thea. Tell me why. I don’t understand.’
‘I love him.’
‘No, you don’t.’
‘I might!’
Zeke laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. ‘Thea, I’m sure you do love him—in a way. But don’t try and tell me you’re in love with him, or vice versa. He didn’t even notice how distressed you were tonight.’
‘You did.’ She could hear the anger in his voice as he talked about Flynn. Was that for her?
He gave a slight nod. ‘Me and Helena. We’re your team.’
‘And you’re leaving me tomorrow.’ How could he offer her a place in the world when he didn’t even know where he’d be tomorrow? Didn’t he understand? She needed more than that. Somewhere she could never be pushed out or left behind. Somewhere she was enough.
‘Yeah.’
‘Great teamwork, there.’
Thea stared out into the darkness of the Tuscan hills beyond. She hadn’t answered Zeke’s question—something she knew he was bound to call her on before too long. But what could she say? Whatever it was, he wouldn’t agree or approve. Should that matter? She didn’t want Zeke to leave hating her. But why not? She would never see him again once she was married. He’d made that perfectly clear. If all she was protecting was the memory of something already eight years dead, what was the point?
‘So?’ Zeke asked eventually. ‘The truth this time. Why are you so set on marrying Flynn tomorrow?’
‘Maybe I think it’ll make me happy,’ Thea said.
Zeke shifted, turning his body in towards hers, one knee bent to let his leg rest on the seat. ‘Do you? Think you’ll be happy?’
She considered lying, but there didn’t seem much point. Zeke never believed her anyway. ‘I think I’ll be safe. Secure. I’ll have someone to help me make the right decisions. I think I’ll have the agreement of all my friends and family that I’m not making a mistake.’
‘Not all of them,’ Zeke muttered.
‘I think I’ll have a place here again. A place I’ve earned...a place I belong. One that’s mine by blood and marriage and can never be taken away from me. I’ll be content,’ Thea finished, ignoring him.
‘Content? And is that enough for y
ou?’
Thea shrugged. ‘What else is there?’ she asked, even though she knew the answer.
‘Love. Passion. Happiness. Pleasure.’
‘Yeah, you see, that’s where I start to make mistakes. I know business. I know sensible, well thought out business plans. I know agreements, contracts, promised deliverables. Pleasure is an unknown quantity.’
Zeke shifted again and he was closer now, his breath warm against her cheek. Thea’s skin tingled at the contact.
‘You used to know about pleasure,’ he said, his voice low.
‘That was a long time ago,’ Thea replied, the words coming out huskily.
‘I remember, though. You used to crave pleasure. And the freedom to seek it. To do what felt right and good, not what someone said you were supposed to do.’
His words were hypnotising. Thea could feel her body swaying into his as he spoke, but she couldn’t do anything to stop the motion. The swing beneath them rocked forwards and back, and with every movement she seemed to fall closer and closer into Zeke. As if gravity was drawing her in. As if nothing she could say or do or think could stop it.
‘Don’t you miss it?’ he whispered, his mouth so close to hers she could feel the words on her own lips.
‘Yes,’ she murmured, and he kissed her.
CHAPTER NINE
SHE TASTED JUST as Zeke remembered—as if it had been mere moments since his mouth had last touched hers. This wasn’t the angry kiss of earlier that day, a kiss that had been more punishment than pleasure. This...this was something more.
Pleasure and pain mingled together. The years fell away and he was twenty-one again, kissing her goodbye even as he hoped against hope that she might leave with him.
Maybe this time it would end differently. Maybe this time he could persuade her. After all, he’d learnt a lot in eight years.
Slipping a hand around her back, he held her close, revelling in the feel of her body against his, back where she belonged. How had he let himself believe, even for a moment, that he could watch her marry someone else and then walk away?
