by Faye Avalon
‘Then why don’t you grab a taxi and come on over?’
Before she could ask where he was, he rattled off an address which made her heart stop.
He was at the Cabacal.
Mixed feelings vied for attention: the pleasure of seeing the property again...the pleasure of seeing Connor again...but taking priority was the fact she’d be revealing her identity to him in the very place they both wanted. The place that stood between them.
If he didn’t plan to demolish the building before, he certainly would after she’d told him she’d been lying to him.
Lola spent the taxi journey mentally rehearsing how to start the conversation she’d been dreading, her nerves escalating with each moment that passed. To make matters worse, what should have taken fifteen minutes took more than double that thanks to emergency road works. Unable to sit still any longer, Lola paid the driver, gathered her bags and walked the remaining half-mile to the property.
It was a good area, bordering the River Thames, and, while busy, it was not so heavily populated with visitors as the rest of the city.
The weather was fine, so the sun sparkled on the surface of the water, reminding Lola of the times when she and her mother had come to visit and had chosen to sit on the stone steps leading down to the water’s edge, where they’d talk about anything and everything.
It wasn’t just memories of her mother that constricted her heart as she sat and looked out over the river now. It was the possibility she might lose Connor. What if she couldn’t convince him that she had never meant to hurt him by keeping her identity a secret? What if he saw her silence as a sharp betrayal and was determined not to forgive her?
Her vision began to blur but since tears wouldn’t solve anything, she inhaled deeply, gave herself a metaphorical dusting down then stood. She’d come here for a reason. She had to get on with it.
A short walk brought the Cabacal into view. She’d seen the outside several times while it had been unoccupied, but even neglect couldn’t diminish the sheer beauty of the exterior. Like a sponge, Lola soaked up the architectural details. Art Deco in style, with a flat roof covering its geometrical shape, angular corners and large curved windows. Testament to an elegant time now long since past.
She wondered how the interior chrome, decorative glass motifs and beautiful limestone floor would look. Probably dulled and sullied—five years of neglect would do that—but likely still as stunning beneath the surface. It bordered on criminal, allowing a beautiful place like the Cabacal to rot this way.
It was even more criminal to have it demolished, although she intended to fight that possibility with everything she had. There had to be a way to make Connor change his mind.
‘Hey.’
Lola swung round, dropping her yoga bag in the process, and her gaze met Connor’s. Dressed in a sharp business suit, he stood at the side entrance of the property, smiling.
He strolled towards her, his sexy grin warming the icy little pockets of discomfort that had settled inside her. ‘You look good,’ he said, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her close up against him. ‘Smell good, too.’
How was it that he could set all her nerve endings alight just by breathing? How could he make every thought and worry disappear so that all she could think about was being in his arms?
He leaned down and took her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, his hold on her tightening as the kiss went on. She tried to resist, tried to break away from him, but his pull on her was just too great. So she sank into the kiss and just let herself be with him while the inevitable confession nudged at her conscience.
When his hold on her eased a fraction, he looked down at her and smiled. ‘How was your day?’
Her hands lay heavily on his shoulders, as if the weight of what she held inside her fused at that point. She hoped those broad shoulders would withstand the battering they would receive so that they could both find a way through the resultant storm.
‘I really need to talk to you.’
‘Same here.’ His sexy wink turned her already feeble legs to mush. ‘Want to see inside?’ He picked up her yoga bag and grabbed her hand.
Thanks to her mental rehearsal in the taxi, she thought she’d had her moves all planned out, but he’d stripped all that away. ‘Inside?’
‘Yeah, as in through the front door. Then I get to kiss you the way I really want to kiss you, out of the glare of prying eyes.’ He brought her closer again, his smile fading as he looked at her. She felt the punch of his intense gaze right down to her toes. ‘I’ve really missed you.’
His hoarse tone had an awkward edge, as if he’d summoned the words and their meaning from a deep, dark cellar which he hadn’t opened in a very long time.
Why was it so difficult for him to say them? Had he said them once before, and they’d been thrown back in his face? Perhaps by an ex who had hurt him and caused him pain?
But he’d said them to her, and they had the power to close up her throat, to bring tears to her eyes and to make her heart ache for something she hadn’t even known she wanted.
But she did know what she wanted. She wanted him.
More than anything else.
He brought his hands down to link with hers. ‘Come on. I’ll show you around.’
‘Connor...’ She tightened her fingers around his and pulled him back as he started to move. She couldn’t go inside without having told him. It would only be delaying the inevitable. But then this might be the last chance she’d have of visiting the Cabacal, the last time she’d get to walk through the wonderful old place and relive precious memories.
It was too compelling to resist. So she loosened her hold on him and nodded. He took a bunch of keys from his pocket, selected two and used them to open the locks on the double doors.
He stood back and Lola stepped into the vestibule.
A gazillion memories tumbled over themselves as she took in the pink marble inlays and chrome fittings. She had a vision of her grandfather escorting her inside when she’d had lunch there as a special treat for her tenth birthday. She’d worn a pretty blue and cream floral dress, the detail of which was as vivid right now as it had been on that day.
As memories swamped her, she pushed them away. Because it was too much. She already felt raw and emotional, especially as Connor stood beside her and said nothing. She had the crazy notion that he knew—that he realised the place had a special meaning for her. But that was impossible. She hadn’t had the guts to tell him yet.
His phone buzzed, breaking through her frenzied thoughts and the eerie silence of the empty space. She turned to see him checking the display. ‘I need to take this,’ he said. ‘Look around. I’ll be right back.’
As Connor went outside, Lola stepped through into the main hall. She froze. While the vestibule and entrance were unchanged from what she remembered when her grandmother had been alive, the main hall provided evidence of what her uncle and his greedy hands had done. Most of the stunning architectural features remained intact, thank God, but there was no trace of the beautiful, elegant interior her grandmother had created. In its place were the garish and showy remnants of the casino.
Taking a breath, she wandered further into the space. Since she’d never seen the appeal of gambling, Lola didn’t know to what use the dusty, discarded tables had once been put. Poker? Black jack? The only game she recognised was roulette, with its distinctive wheel still in evidence.
At the far end of the main hall was a bar, its rich mahogany surface covered in layers of dust and grime, its shelves now empty, having once held glasses and alcoholic beverages showcased by the old etched mirrors running along the length of the back bar.
As she walked towards it, she glanced up to the mezzanine and spotted some old slot machines juxtaposed with a smaller bar which, she imagined with some cynicism, had allowed punters to refill their drinks with as little dist
urbance as possible to their game-playing.
Her footsteps echoed on the dusty limestone floor as she wandered past the bar and towards the wall that had once held clear windows looking out over the river. That would have been the first change she’d have made, Lola thought somewhat innocuously. Reinstating those wonderful views.
She turned back to look around the hall. It would have been an amazing space in which to run her studio. The main hall could easily have been partitioned into smaller units without losing the sense of light, of space. On fine days she could’ve thrown the windows open, maybe even had a deck built on the grassy ledge outside for outdoor classes when the weather allowed.
She wandered into one of the annexes off to the side, imagining it as a cloakroom with lockers for her clients. Then into another room that would have been perfect for storing class equipment.
Before long she would have removed all traces of the travesty her uncle had made of the space, but in the absence of being able to do that she was damn sure she was going to make certain that Connor didn’t get to obliterate the property completely. She couldn’t bear to think of all its lovely architectural features lying in a pit of rubble on the beautiful limestone floor.
She heard Connor, his voice getting louder as he neared the door to the main hall. ‘Okay, I’ll wait for you,’ he said to the caller. ‘It’ll save me a trip to your office.’
Steeling herself for the conversation to come, Lola came back into the main hall as Connor tucked his phone back in his pocket.
‘What do you think?’ he asked, coming to stand beside her. ‘It’s a big space, but it’d be easy enough to have it made into smaller areas. The two pillars at the sides aren’t load bearing, so they could be removed easily enough, which means that the smaller annexes could be knocked together.’
Lola found it hard to concentrate on the rest of what Connor said. She was too busy trying to make sense of what she’d already heard. Why on earth was he waxing lyrical about the potential of the place?
Her heart stuttered. ‘You’re not going to have it knocked down?’
His eyebrows rose. ‘Well, no. Not if you think it would work for you.’
She swallowed, her throat so tight it was hard to breathe. ‘Work for me?’
Had she slipped into some alternative reality? A parallel universe? What the hell was he talking about? She didn’t even want to consider what she thought he was talking about.
‘Like I said, those pillars aren’t a problem, and if you want the hall sectioned off some good stud walling would be an easy enough fix.’ With his hands in his pockets, he strolled around the room. ‘How many people are you planning to have in each class?’
Lola’s heart was flipping about like a mad thing, but she couldn’t take his words at face value. She searched his face but there didn’t seem to be any artifice in his expression or demeanour. No suspicion in his eyes telling her he’d found out who she really was and was messing with her. Connor didn’t play those sorts of cruel games. If he’d known who she was, she would have seen it in his eyes, would already be facing his wrath.
‘Ten students per class is the norm,’ Lola said, her throat like sandpaper. ‘Twelve, tops.’
Connor nodded thoughtfully. ‘This space could easily accommodate those numbers.’
As she still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, whether or not he had some sort of agenda, Lola kept her gaze steady on his. ‘I don’t understand.’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve got a property, you need one. None of the others you showed me seemed suitable. This one does. I’m willing to rent it out to you until such time as I’m ready to sell it and you’re happy it’ll work for you. Unless you already know it won’t work.’
Lola bit her bottom lip. Everything she’d planned for had fallen into her lap. Just like that. So how come, instead of celebrating her luck, she had a hollow feeling settling in the pit of her stomach? He was willing to do this for her when she hadn’t even had the decency to tell him who she was, and that this very scenario was the outcome she’d been planning all along.
‘It would work perfectly,’ she said as guilt clawed its ugly way around her heart.
She couldn’t let this continue, couldn’t let him make this huge gesture until she had come clean. He would no doubt retract his offer. And she wouldn’t blame him.
Yet she had to make this right.
‘Connor. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’re offering me. But we really need to talk.’
‘Hold that thought,’ he said, already moving towards the entrance door as his mobile buzzed. ‘I just need to take care of some business. Hand over some papers. If it’s the cost of renovation that’s worrying you, we can work that out.’
It was only delaying the inevitable, yet Lola was glad of the breathing space. The chance to formulate her words in a way that would cause Connor the least damage, the least hurt. She was about to throw his generosity back in his face, and she hated what that might do to him. He’d already been manipulated and betrayed by her uncle, and the fallout had taken him years to work through. How would he feel when she not only opened up all those old wounds, but inflicted even more new ones?
She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to stop her insides from spilling out. It felt as if she’d been flayed right through to the core of who she was because she couldn’t bear the thought of hurting Connor this deeply.
She heard him speaking with someone outside, a vague shiver of recognition trembling down her already icy spine.
The door swung open and Connor walked through, closely flanked by Damian.
As Lola met her brother’s angry gaze, she knew any chance she had of making Connor understand had just disintegrated like dust on the limestone floor.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ANY FOOL WOULD have noticed the tension that snapped between Damian and Lola. Just as any fool would have noticed the colour leeching from her beautiful face.
Connor looked between them, his eyes narrowing. ‘What the hell’s going on?’
Damian kept his attention on Lola. ‘That’s what I’d like to know. Maybe you’d like to explain, Louise.’
Louise?
‘What are you doing here, Damian?’
The man raised his eyebrows, showcasing the confusion in his eyes. ‘The real question is, what are you doing here?’
‘Somebody better start explaining,’ Connor said, his chest squeezed so tight that his ribs started to ache. ‘And soon.’ They obviously had some kind of history, and clearly not good. Were they once lovers? That possibility made him want to pound his aching chest in a direct display of male possession so that Damian knew with absolute certainty that Lola was his now.
Lola seemed to have turned even paler. ‘This is none of your business, Damian. You should leave.’
A hint of perception replaced confusion in Damian’s now narrowed eyes. ‘Have you gone behind my back? After everything I said?’
Gone behind his back doing what? What the fuck was going on?
‘You didn’t give me any choice.’ On the surface, Lola sounded firm, but Connor heard the hitch in her voice. ‘This wasn’t what I wanted. It certainly wasn’t what I planned.’
Damian turned to Connor. ‘Have you agreed to anything?’
‘About what?’
Damian took a deep inhalation. ‘My sister can be very persuasive.’
His sister?
Connor looked between them again, his gaze settling on Lola even as his head buzzed. Lola was Damian McBride’s sister? What the fuck?
Why hadn’t she told him? She must have known he was doing business with Damian over the Cabacal, which meant...
Shit. It meant she’d been lying to him.
His head pounded and the straitjacket that was now around his ribcage tightened further. He needed to think. To work this out, make sense of it.
>
‘Lola?’
Strands of hair fell free of the messy bun as she shook her head. Her eyes were over-bright, shining with the truth of what his fevered brain was slowly, painfully, figuring out. She’d lied to him. All the time they’d been together, she’d had her own agenda. And he’d slowly been falling for her, allowing the wall around his heart to crumble brick by brick, allowing himself to contemplate the possibility that he might be able to open himself up enough to trust a woman again.
Fucking idiot.
‘Connor. I need to explain everything to you.’
He thought he’d known pain before. As a child abandoned by his parents, as a budding entrepreneur betrayed by the man he’d considered his trusted mentor, as a lover cruelly manipulated by the woman he’d thought himself in love with. All those things had cut him like a thousand blades, but nothing...not one of those things...had ripped him apart like the pain of knowing that Lola had willingly, blatantly deceived him.
His blood was a torrent of rage as it swept through his veins. ‘Damn right you need to explain. Start with why you lied to me. Right from the start. You fucking lied to me.’
Her throat contracted, her eyes deep pools of agonised green, but no way would he let his guard down. For all he knew, it was another act. Another attempt to manipulate him, draw him in, make him soften. Right now, he wanted answers. He wanted the truth.
‘I always intended to tell you who I am, but first I wanted to get to know you, to understand your reasons for wanting the Cabacal.’
Damian stepped forward. ‘I told you Connor was owed. That should have been good enough. Why didn’t you let it go?’
Lola turned to her brother, the paleness of her complexion highlighted by the spears of heat that flashed across her cheekbones and echoed in her eyes. ‘You wouldn’t even listen to me. Wouldn’t even give me the chance to buy this place back. It belongs to our family, to me. You should have given me the option.’
Connor didn’t want to know the ins and outs of who she thought was the legal owner. All he cared about was getting answers. From Lola.
