by Maggie Cox
‘And what did he do for a living?’
‘He worked in music management.’
‘So that’s when your career in music took off?’
‘Obviously not straight away. But I’d been writing my own songs for quite a while, and along with my voice he thought they had potential.’
Her quizzical glance examined Gray for a moment, as if she were trying to work out where he was coming from. Gray had to privately own to feeling a little discomfited by it.
‘Why are you asking me about all this?’ she asked. ‘I got the distinct impression that under no circumstances did you want to talk about Ryan.’
‘I don’t … not really. But I am interested in you. The fact that you were married to someone else before you met me and that he died isn’t something I can easily sweep under the carpet, no matter how much I might secretly want to. I want to know what’s shaped you, Karen, what’s made you the woman you are. If I can’t ask questions about your past, how am I supposed to find these things out?’
‘I could turn that question around and ask you the same thing.’
Now Gray was uncomfortable. He’d voluntarily led himself down a blind alley from which he couldn’t easily escape. ‘You know who I am,’ he muttered, irritably shoving back the stray lock of black hair that fell against his brow.
‘How can you say that? Apart from that rainy night when you turned up at the cottage for the first time you’ve hardly spoken about yourself at all. I get the distinct impression that your own past is strictly off-limits.’
‘Well … you should know by now that I’m not the kind of man that feels the need to spill his guts to all and sundry.’
‘Am I “all and sundry”, then?’ It was with faint alarm that Gray saw the film of moisture hazing Karen’s beautiful eyes. He laid down his brush with a sigh.
‘You must know you mean more to me than that.’
‘I don’t know any such thing at all. So tell me … what do I
mean to you, Gray? Am I just someone you turn to occasionally to keep the demons away?’
He winced. ‘I thought you said that all you wanted was for me to keep out the cold for a little while? Are you telling me now that you want something more than that?’
She swallowed hard, shaking her head. ‘I don’t know … I’m confused and a little scared about it all, if you want to know the truth.’
Karen had given him an in—an opportunity to really open up for once and share his doubts and fears and maybe his hopes, too—but Gray didn’t take it.
‘Then perhaps we’d better drop the subject and just get on with what we’re doing.’
‘Fine … That suits me.’
His lovely model sucked in a breath and a strained little smile touched her lips. He could tell it didn’t suit her at all to drop the subject, and again Gray deplored his lack of courage and sensitivity in not having a proper discussion about the matter. But realistically he already knew that Karen deserved far better than him. Why not just be grateful for her being in his life right now and stop muddying the waters by fantasising about a future that would never, could never be his?
He resumed his painting in silence, and shortly after that tense little episode Bridie arrived with their refreshments. As Gray invited Karen to bring her tea and come and survey the stunningly impressive view from the huge pre–Palladian windows, he found himself longing to make things right between them again.
‘Is there anything else you need back at the cottage?’
‘I’ve got everything I need, so no. But thanks for asking’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure.’
‘You can have anything you want, you know? Hell, I’d even pull the place down and build a new house for you right on the spot if you wanted.’ His long fingers tightened in agitation round his coffee mug.
Her gaze perturbed, Karen turned to look at him. ‘Why would you do that, Gray? Pull down your father’s cottage, I mean?’
He felt a little desperate for a moment. ‘Until you came it held too many unhappy memories for me. I don’t even know why I decided to rent it out in the first place. I wouldn’t be sorry to see it pulled down.’
‘I understand how you would feel that way, but I’m personally very glad that you did decide to rent it out. I like it there very much. As for suggesting you build a new house—I don’t even know how long I’ll be staying. Right now the cottage suits me fine just as it is.’
‘I want—I need to give you something … don’t you understand?’ Plucking the mug out of her hand, Gray placed it on the windowsill next to his own. Inside his chest his heart was racing as he gripped her hands to stare long and hard into her beautiful upturned face. ‘And don’t even think about leaving. not for a long, long time.’
‘There is something you can give me.’ Withdrawing one of her hands from his clasp, Karen gently touched the side of his beard-shadowed jaw. ‘You can give me a promise that you’ll start to think better of yourself and allow a little happiness into your life from time to time. Can you do that, Gray?’
As he met that mesmerising warm gaze, emotion ambushed Gray and he wanted to hold on to her for the longest time. But, true to form, such a strong sensation of need scared him, too. It wasn’t his style to need anybody … at least not in a way that made them essential to his life and happiness …
‘I’ll try,’ he answered, his smile awkward, almost as if it didn’t fit his face.
‘Good.’ Karen’s smile was much more natural. ‘Will you show me some of your paintings now?’
‘Sure … why not?’
Dropping down onto her haunches to examine a breathtaking landscape of verdant emerald hills rolling down to a stormy sea at sunset, Karen surveyed the stunning skill of the artist in amazement. She’d hardly known what to expect when it came to Gray’s work, but she knew she’d anticipated nothing half as good or tremendous as this.
‘This is incredible. It’s got so much presence you can almost breathe the wind-blown air and hear the waves crashing,’ she commented. ‘And that fiery red and gold sunset. it stirs the heart, Gray.’ She could almost sense him moving awkwardly behind her, as if the compliment unsettled him—unsettled him and probably made him inwardly deny it, she guessed.
‘I did that one about a year ago,’ he murmured. ‘Chase and I came upon the scene one evening during one of our long walks. Luckily I had my sketchpad with me at the time.’
‘It’s clear you enjoy painting landscapes,’ Karen murmured, rising to her feet and carefully going through the stack of work behind the painting she’d been examining.
‘I do.’
‘You don’t do many portraits, then?’ She halted her study of the paintings to give her full attention to the man waiting beside her.
‘Not very often.’
‘Is there a particular reason why?’
‘I don’t care to have people coming to the house.’ Lifting a shoulder, he glanced away.
‘Then I’m honoured that you asked me.’
‘Are you fishing for a compliment?’
‘Do I need to fish?’ she teased.
‘No.’
The grey eyes that had the haunting quality of the sea in them were so intense for a moment that Karen felt as though she was melting in the heat they emitted.
‘No, you do not.’
Heart clonking against her ribs, she blurted, ‘How come your pictures aren’t framed and displayed all over the house? It seems a shame to keep them up here, just gathering dust. People would love to see them, I’m sure.’
‘You mean the same people that don’t come to the house?’
‘Even so, you should display them out of respect for yourself. I’d certainly enjoy seeing them, and so I’m sure would Bridie. Why not get them framed and put up? I’ll help you if you like.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
Karen got the distinct impression that he wouldn’t. But now she was a woman on a mission—a mission to get this ta
lented and wounded man to wake up to his own potential, to leave his traumatic past behind and enjoy the one thing he was clearly passionate about, the thing that could open doors to a new and more fulfilling future … even if that future didn’t include her.
‘You’d better finish your tea. I need to get back to work on the portrait. The light will be fading in another couple of hours, and I’d like to get as much done as possible.’
Already moving back towards his easel, Gray didn’t glance round to see if Karen followed him. It seemed as though he was retreating behind that protective wall again—the wall that made Karen feel as if he would only invite her so far into his private enclave before putting her safely at a distance again.
Folding her arms across her chest, she sighed. Now she did have his attention.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Don’t you think we should get some air? Take Chase for a walk, perhaps?’
‘We will after I’ve finished working on the portrait for the day. Are you getting bored already, sitting for me?’
‘No. I suppose I’m just a little restless.’
She found herself on the disturbingly arousing end of one of his rare melting smiles.
‘Restless and beautiful … It’s a good title for your portrait.’
‘If you say so.’ She made a face at him.
‘I do. Now, get your pretty little butt over here and sit for me—before I find a strap and tie you to the chair!’
Her skin burning at the very idea, Karen couldn’t even find words in her scrambled brain to reply.
CHAPTER NINE
‘MY CHEF Jorge made the coffee. He trained as a barista in Italy, and I kid you not—it’s to die for!’ Liz Regan beamed at Karen across a table at the back of the closed café as the two women sat together for a coffee and ‘a cosy little chat’, as she had put it to Karen.
Happy to count the enthusiastic redhead as a new friend, Karen took a sip of the fragrant cappuccino in front of her and briefly squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure. ‘You’re right … it’s divine. Where on earth did you find this Jorge?’
The sparkly green eyes of the other woman effervesced even more. ‘I met him on holiday in Majorca last year. He’s Spanish. To tell you the truth he was planning on working in the UK, but I very cheekily enticed him away from that idea and persuaded him to come to Ireland and work for me instead.’
Karen grinned, sensing there was more. ‘And?’
‘Winters here can be grim. A woman needs a fit and active male to help keep her warm at nights. Call it clever strategic planning on my part, as well as unashamed self-interest.’
It didn’t escape Karen that Liz had used a similar phrase to Gray’s, when he had promised to ‘keep out the cold’ for her for a while. She fell silent, thinking about last night and the heat they had generated again in bed after they’d agreed he’d follow her home to the cottage. Once again, Gray had left her in the early hours of the morning to return home.
‘And what about you, Karen?’ The redhead leaned across the cheerful yellow tablecloth with a knowing glint. ‘It can’t have escaped your notice that everybody was very much surprised when our local Heathcliff himself turned up the other afternoon to hear you sing … feeling up to spilling the beans?’
It was inevitable, Karen supposed, that sooner or later someone was going to quiz her about Gray. But it didn’t mean she was ready or even wanted to discuss it with anyone. even Liz.
‘No, not really.’ She shrugged, shielding both her gaze and her feelings briefly behind her mug of coffee.
Running her fingers through her cropped red hair, Liz grimaced. ‘I know you probably don’t want to say anything in deference to him, and I’m sure you think we’re all a bunch of dreadful nosy parkers, but the people here are still very sympathetic towards Gray O’Connell, and at the end of the day we look after our own. His father Paddy was well-liked, and everyone was shocked and saddened when he died. Not only had Gray to deal with the trauma of that, but then his flighty girlfriend Maura left him for his best friend and ran away with him to Canada—we could all see how he turned in on himself and became a virtual recluse. It’s not natural for a fit, handsome man like him. To be alone, I mean …’
Her insides churning, Karen was trying hard to process the startling revelation that Gray had had a girlfriend who’d left him to run off with his best friend. Was that the reason he seemed so wary about committing to a proper relationship or discussing anything personal? Who could blame him, when it seemed that anyone he’d ever cared about had abandoned him? Under the circumstances it was hardly a surprise that he kept everyone at arm’s length and chose to isolate himself. If only he’d told her about what had happened with this Maura—even though it would be excruciating for her to hear about another woman and even harder to imagine Gray suffering because he’d lost her.
‘We’re just … good friends,’ she explained—without conviction, it had to be said. But how could she tell Liz anything else when she was too scared to trust that her passionate and volatile relationship with Gray might last?
‘Good friends, is it?’ The other girl’s eyes easily transmitted her doubt.
Distressed, Karen moved her head from side to side. ‘To tell you the truth,’ she admitted, heart pounding because Liz looked to be hanging on her every word, ‘I’m mad about him. I’m mad about him even though I have this terrible fear that he’ll tell me goodbye almost every time we meet. There …’ She blinked back the moisture that surged into her eyes and shuddered. ‘The thing is I never expected to fall so hard for someone so soon after losing Ryan … my husband. I think I’m still in shock about what’s happened between me and Gray.’
‘What was your marriage like?’ the other girl asked thoughtfully. ‘Did you fall for Ryan as hard as you’ve fallen for Gray?’
Feeling guilty and wretched, Karen sighed softly. ‘No,’ she whispered, ‘I didn’t. He was my best friend—the one I could turn to when I was unhappy or hurt—the person who was always there for me.’
‘But the sparks didn’t exactly fly in bed?’ Liz smiled gently.
Blue eyes enormous, Karen stared. ‘How did you guess?’
‘It’s not uncommon … a girl thinking that she should marry her best male friend and then finding out when the deed is done that she’s made a mistake.’
‘Ryan was never a mistake!’
‘I’m sure he wasn’t, Karen—but the fact that you’ve fallen so hard for Gray suggests that you weren’t really in love with Ryan. Don’t look so shocked. He was still your best friend and you loved him—just not in the same way that you love Gray O’Connell. Passion is never neat and tidy, you know. It rarely ticks all the right boxes and behaves itself as people think it should. And when it descends your whole world is turned on its head and won’t ever be the same again.’
Reflecting on the other woman’s unexpectedly revelatory words, Karen touched her hand to her forehead, imagining her heartbeat sounded like crashing waves slamming against rocks in her ears. ‘How do you know all this? Did it happen to you?’
‘Yes … when I was working in London for a hotel chain in the west end. He was a visiting CEO from Australia, and he came to the hotel for a meeting. I served him his coffee, our eyes met, and that was it. Wham! I felt like I’d been hit by a cyclone.’
‘But it didn’t work out between the two of you?’
‘No.’ The redhead winced. ‘It didn’t. But right now we’re talking about you, not me.’
‘I expect you think I’m an awful fool, falling for someone as emotionally unavailable and damaged as Gray.’
Reaching across the table, Liz gave Karen’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. ‘You’re not a fool, sweetheart. Far from it. But it sounds to me like you didn’t have much choice in the matter of the fascinating Mr O’Connell. Sure, hasn’t he got it all? He’s tall, dark, handsome—and has a tragic past. We women seem hard-wired to fall for the wounded ones, don’t we? Plus he has an air of mystery about him that would
tempt any woman with an ounce of curiosity in her blood to try and unravel what makes him tick. But, passion aside, I won’t pretend I’m not concerned about how you’ll cope if what you have together should suddenly come to an end.’
‘I’ll manage. I’ll have to. It’s not as though I’ve never had to deal with the sudden end of a relationship before, is it? It’s a risk every woman takes when she falls for a man … that he’ll end up hurting her, I mean.’
‘True. But losing your heart to a man who can’t or won’t give you his love in return because he’s built a fortress round his own heart to protect himself … Well, that’s no easy path, for sure. Be good to yourself, Karen. That’s my advice. Take one step at a time and keep something back just in case it doesn’t work out as you might hope.’
Karen didn’t reply, because a numbing wave of dread was washing through her at the realisation that she didn’t have a hope of ‘keeping something back’—because she’d already given everything she had in her to Gray.
‘In the meantime—’ her companion smiled warmly ‘—I want you to know that I’m your friend as well as your sometimes employer, and I won’t be blabbing any of what you’ve told me to a soul. Not even my brother Sean … who, by the way, has quite a thing for you.’
‘He has?’ Dismayed, Karen crumpled her smooth brow.
‘Yes, he has—even more so since he heard you sing. He swears you’ve the voice of an angel, and I’m inclined to agree. You won’t be singing for me for long before some bigwig music executive gets to hear about you via the local tom-tom drums and tempts you away with a record deal, I’m sure! We may be situated in the back of beyond, but news of a talent like yours travels fast. But, that aside, Sean’s seen the way it is between you and Gray O’Connell, and he won’t make a nuisance of himself.’
Thinking of the afternoon she’d spent with Gray yesterday, having her portrait painted and looking through his sublime landscape paintings, Karen realised how much she’d been hoping for some sign from him that he considered them to be in a proper relationship—a relationship that truly meant something to him. His passionate admission that he wanted to do something for her … that he needed to do something for her … had honestly taken her aback. But she knew it didn’t mean he was any closer to wanting some kind of real commitment, and she couldn’t prevent the sense of desolation that arose inside her at that.
