Читать книгу After Hours... - Christy McKellen, Bella Bucannon - Страница 15
ОглавлениеMAX HAD NO idea where this strange possessiveness towards Cara had sprung from, but he hadn’t been about to let that awful woman, Amber, treat her with so little respect. She deserved more than that. Much more. And while she was working for him he was going to make sure she got it.
Which meant he was now going to be escorting her to a wedding—the kind of event he’d sworn to avoid after Jemima died. The thought of being back in a church, watching a couple with their whole lives ahead of them begin their journey together, made his stomach clench with unease.
One year—that was all he’d been allowed with his wife. One lousy year. It made him want to spit with rage at the world. Why her? Why them?
Still, at least he didn’t know the happy couple and would be able to keep a low profile at the wedding, hiding his bitterness behind a bland smile. He didn’t need to engage. He’d just be there to support Cara; that was all.
After the play finished they travelled home in silence, a stark contrast to their journey there, but he was glad of the quiet. Perversely, it felt as though he and Cara had grown closer during that short time, the confrontation and subsequent solidarity banding them together like teammates.
Which of course they were, he reminded himself as he opened the front door to his house and ushered her inside, at least when it came to the business.
Cara’s phone beeped as she shrugged off her coat and she plucked it out of her handbag and read the message, her smile dropping by degrees as she scanned the text.
‘Problem?’ he asked, an uncomfortable sense of foreboding pricking at the edge of his mind. It had taken him a long time to be able to answer the phone without feeling the crush of anxiety he’d been plagued with after the call telling him his wife had collapsed and had been rushed into hospital.
He took a step closer to her, glad she was here to distract him from the lingering bad memories.
Glancing up, she gave him a sheepish look. ‘It’s a text from Jack with the details of the wedding.’
‘Oh, right.’ He stepped back, relief flowing through him, but Cara didn’t appear to relax. Instead her grimace only deepened.
‘Um. Apparently it’s in Leicestershire. Which is a two and a half hour drive from here. So we’ll need to stay overnight.’ She wrinkled her nose, the apology clear on her face.
Great. Just what had he let himself in for here?
‘No problem,’ he forced himself to say, holding back the irritation he felt at the news. It wasn’t Cara’s fault and he was the one who had pushed for this to happen.
More fool him.
‘Really? You don’t mind?’ she asked, relief clear in her tone.
‘No, it’s fine,’ he lied, trying not to think about all the hours he’d have to spend away from his desk so he could make nice with a bunch of strangers.
‘Great, then I’ll book us a couple of rooms in the B&B that Jack suggested,’ she said, her smile returning.
‘You do that.’ He gave her a firm nod and hid a yawn behind his hand. ‘I’m heading off to bed,’ he said, feeling the stress of the week finally catching up with him. ‘See you in the morning, Cara. And Happy Birthday.’
* * *
Cara disappeared for most of the next day, apparently going to look at potential flats to rent, then retiring to bed early, citing exhaustion from the busy, but fruitless, day.
After the tension of Friday night, Max was glad of the respite and spent most of his time working through the backlog of emails he’d accumulated after his week away.
Sunday finally rolled around and he woke early, staring into the cool empty air next to him and experiencing the usual ache of hollowness in his chest, before pulling himself together and hoisting his carcass out of bed and straight into the shower.
The wedding was at midday so at least he had a couple of hours to psych himself up before they had to head over to the Leicestershire estate where it was being held.
The sun was out and glinting off the polished windows of the houses opposite when he pulled his curtains open, momentarily blinding him with its brightness. It was definitely a day for being outdoors.
He’d barely breathed fresh air in the past week, only moving between office and hotel, and the thought of feeling the warm sun on his skin spurred him into action. He pulled on his running gear, something he’d not done for over a year and a half, and went for a long run, welcoming the numbing pain as he worked his lethargic muscles hard, followed by the rewarding rush of serotonin as it chased its way through his veins. After a while it felt as though he was flying along the pavement, the worries and stresses of the past week pushed to the very back of his mind by the punishing exercise.
For the first time in a long while he felt as if he were truly awake.
Cara appeared to be up and about when he limped back into his kitchen for a long drink of water, his senses perking up as he breathed in the comforting smell of the coffee she’d been drinking, threaded with the flowery scent of her perfume.
Glancing up at the clock as he knocked back his second glass of water, he was shocked to see it was already nearly nine o’clock, which meant he really ought to get a move on if he was going to be ready to leave for the wedding on time.
Turning back from loading his glass into the dishwasher, he was brought up short by the sight of Cara standing in the hallway just outside the kitchen door, watching him. She’d twisted her long hair up into some sort of complicated-looking hairstyle and her dark eyes sparkled with glittery make-up. The elegant silver strapless dress she wore fitted her body perfectly, moulding itself to her gentle curves and making her seem taller and—something else. More mature, perhaps? More sophisticated?
Whatever it was, she looked completely and utterly beautiful.
Realising he was standing there gawping at her like some crass teenage boy, he cleared his suddenly dry throat and dredged up a smile which he hoped didn’t look as lascivious as it felt.
‘Hey, you look like you’re dressed for a wedding,’ he said, cringing inside at how pathetic that sounded.
She smiled. ‘And you don’t. I hope you’re not thinking of going like that because I’m pretty sure it didn’t say “sports casual” on the invitation.’ Her amused gaze raked up and down his body, her eyebrows rising at the sight of his sweat-soaked running gear.
He returned her grin, finding it strangely difficult to keep it natural-looking. His whole face felt as if he’d had his head stuck in the freezer. What was wrong with him? A bit of sunshine and a fancy dress and his mind was in a spin.
‘I’d better go and take a shower; otherwise we’re going to be late,’ he said, already walking towards the door.
‘Could you do me a favour before you go?’ she asked, colour rising in her cheeks.
‘Er...sure. As long as it’s not going to cost me anything,’ he joked, coming to a stop in front of her. In her heels she was nearly as tall as him, making it easier to directly meet her gaze. She had such amazing eyes: bright and clear with vitality and intellect. The make-up and hair made him think of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
‘Could you do up the buttons on the back of my dress?’ she asked, her voice sounding unusually breathy, as if it had taken a lot for her to ask for his help.
‘Sure,’ he said, waiting for her to turn around and present her back to him. His breath caught as he took in the long, elegant line of her spine as it disappeared into the base of her dress. There were three buttons that held the top half of it together, with a large piece cut out at the bottom, which would leave her creamy skin and the gentle swells of muscle at the base of her back exposed.
Heaven help him.
Hands feeling as if they’d been trapped in the freezer, too, he fiddled around with the buttons, feeling the warmth of her skin heat the tips of his fingers. Hot barbs of awareness tracked along his nerves and embedded themselves deep in his body and his breath came out in short ragged gasps, which he’d like to think was an after-effect of the hard exercise, but was more likely to be down to his close proximity to a woman’s body, after his had been starved of attention for the past year and a half.
‘There you go,’ he said, snapping the final button into its hole with a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll be back down in fifteen.’
And with that he made his escape.
* * *
Wow. This felt weird, being at Jack’s wedding—a friend she thought she’d never see again—with Max—her recalcitrant boss—as her escort. The whole world seemed to have flipped on its head. If someone had told her a week ago that this was going to happen she would have given them a polite smile whilst slowly backing away.
But here she was, swaying unsteadily in the only pair of high heels she owned, with Max at her side. The man who could give Hollywood’s top leading men a run for their money in the charisma department.
There had been a moment in the kitchen, after he’d turned around and noticed her, when she thought she’d seen something in his eyes. Something that had never been there before. Something like desire.
And then when he’d helped her with her dress it had felt as though the air had crackled and jumped between them. The bloom of his breath on her neck had made her knees weak and her heart race. She could have sworn his voice had held a rougher undertone than she was used to hearing as he excused himself.
But she knew she was kidding herself if she thought she should read more than friendly interest into his actions.
They had Radio Four on for the entire journey up to Leicestershire, listening in rapt silence to a segment on finance, then chuckling along to a radio play. Cara was surprised by how easy it was to sit beside Max and how relaxed and drawn into their shared enjoyment of the programme she was. So much so, that it was to her great surprise that they pulled into the small car park of the church where the wedding was taking place, seemingly only a short time after leaving London.
The sunshine that had poured in through her bedroom window that morning had decided to stick around for the rest of the day, disposing of the insubstantial candyfloss clouds of the morning to reveal the most intensely blue sky she’d ever seen.
All around her, newly blooming spring flowers bopped their heads in time to the rhythm of the light spring breeze, their gaudy colours a striking counterpoint to the verdant green of the lawns surrounding them.
Taking a deep breath, she drew the sweet, fresh air deep into her lungs. This should mark a new beginning in her life, she decided. The start of the next chapter, where the foundations she’d laid in the past few weeks would hopefully prove strong enough to support her from this point onwards.
‘It’s nearly twelve o’clock; we should go in,’ Max said with regret in his voice as he cast his gaze around their beautiful surroundings.
Attempting to keep her eyes up and off the tantalising view of his rear in the well-cut designer suit he’d chosen to wear today, she tripped into the church after him, shivering slightly at the change in temperature as they walked out of the sunshine and into the nave.
Most of the pews were already full, so they hung back for a moment to be directed to a seat by one of the ushers.
And that was when the day took a definite turn for the worse.
Her world seemed to spin on its axis, rolling her stomach along with it, as her former and current life lined up on a collision course. One of the PAs who had belonged to the Cobra Clique was standing down by the altar, her long blond hair slithering down her back as she threw her head back and laughed at something that the man standing next to her said.
Taking a deep breath, Cara willed herself not to panic, but her distress must have shown plainly on her face because Max turned to glance in the direction she was staring and said, ‘Cara? What’s wrong?’
‘Ah...nothing.’ She flapped a dismissive hand at him, feeling her cheeks flame with heat, and took a step backwards, hoping the stone pillar would shield her. But serendipity refused to smile as the woman turned towards them, catching her eye, her pupils flaring in recognition and her gaze moving, as if in slow motion, from Cara to Max and back again. And the look on her face plainly said she wasn’t going to miss this golden opportunity to make more trouble for her.
Looking around her wildly, Cara’s heart sank as she realised there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
It was usually at this point in a film that the leading lady would pull the guy she was with towards her and kiss him hard to distract him from the oncoming danger, but she knew, as she stared with regret at Max’s full, inviting mouth, that there was no way she could do that. He’d probably choke in shock, then fire her on the spot if she even attempted it. It wouldn’t just put her job in jeopardy—it would blow it to smithereens.
There was only one thing left to do.
‘Max, I need to tell you something.’
He frowned at her, his eyes darkening as he caught on to her worried tone.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I—er—’
‘Cara?’ He looked really alarmed now and she shook her head, trying to clear it. She needed to keep her cool or she’d end up looking even more of an idiot.
‘I wasn’t entirely straight with you about why I left my last job. Truth is—’ she took a breath ‘—I didn’t take redundancy.’
He blinked, then frowned. ‘So you were fired?’
‘No. I—’
‘What did you do, Cara? What are you trying to tell me?’ His voice held a tinge of the old Max now—the one who didn’t suffer fools.
‘Okay—’ She closed her eyes and held up a hand. ‘Look, just give me a minute and I’ll explain. The thing is—’ Locking her shaking hands together, she took a steadying breath. ‘I was bullied by a gang of women there who made my life a living hell and I handed in my notice before my boss could fire me for incompetence as a result of it,’ she said, mortified by the tremor in her voice.
When she opened her eyes to look at him, the expression of angry disbelief on his face made her want to melt into a puddle of shame.
‘What?’
She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. ‘I had no choice but to leave.’
He shook his head in confusion. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Out of the corner of her eye she saw her nemesis approaching and felt every hair on her body stand to attention. The woman was only ten steps away, at most.
‘And why are you telling me this now?’ he pressed.
‘Because one of the women is here at the wedding and she’ll probably tell you a pack of lies to make me look bad. I didn’t exactly leave graciously. There was a jug of cold coffee and some very white blouses involved.’ She cringed at the desperation in her voice, but Max just turned to glare in the direction she’d been avoiding, then let out a sharp huff of breath.
‘Come outside for a minute.’
Wrapping his hand around her arm, he propelled her back out through the doors of the church and down the steps, coming to a sudden halt under the looming shadow of the clock tower, where he released her. Crossing his arms, he looked down at her with an expression of such exasperation it made her quake in her stilettos.
‘Why didn’t you mention this to me before?’ he asked, shoving back the hair that had fallen across his forehead during their short journey, only drawing more attention to his piercing gaze.
Sticking her chin in the air, she crossed her own arms, determined to stand up for herself. ‘I really wanted to work with you and I thought you might not hire me if you knew the truth. It didn’t exactly look good on my CV that I’d only stuck it out there for three months before admitting defeat.’
‘So you thought you had to lie to me to get the job?’
She held up her hands in apology. ‘I know I should have told you the truth, but I’d already messed up other job interviews because I was so nervous and ashamed of myself for being so weak.’ She hugged her arms around her again. ‘I didn’t want you to think badly of me. Anyway, at the time you barely wanted to talk to me about the work I had to do, let alone anything of a personal nature, so I thought it best to keep it to myself.’ She looked at him steadily, craving his understanding. ‘You can be pretty intimidating, you know.’
She was saved from having to further explain herself by one of the ushers loudly asking the stragglers outside to please go into the church and take their seats because the bride had arrived.
From the look on Max’s face she wasn’t sure whether he was going to walk away and leave her standing there like a total lemon on her own or turn around and punch the wall. She didn’t fancy watching either scenario play out.
To her surprise, he let out a long, frustrated sigh and looked towards the gaggle of people filing into the church.
‘We can’t talk about this now or we’ll be walking in with the bridal party, and there’s no way I’d pass for a bridesmaid,’ he said stiffly.
She stared at him. ‘You mean you’re not going to leave?’
‘No, I’m not going to leave,’ he said crossly. ‘We’ll talk more about this after the ceremony.’
And with that he put his hand firmly against the middle of her back and ushered her inside.
Sliding into the polished wooden pew next to Max and surreptitiously wiping her damp palms on her dress, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. From the set of his shoulders she could tell he wasn’t likely to let this go with a casual wave of his hand.
In fact she’d bet everything she had left that he was really going to fire her this time.
Frustration churned in her stomach. After all the progress she’d made in getting back on her feet, and persuading Max to finally trust her, was it really going to end like this?
Looking along the pews, she saw that her nemesis was sitting on the other side of the church, a wide smile on her face as she watched the ceremony unfold. At least that threat had been neutralised. There wasn’t anything left that she could do to hurt her.
She hoped.
Rage unfurled within Cara at the unfairness of it all. Why did this woman get to enjoy herself when she had to sit here worrying about her future?
As she watched Amber make her stately way up the aisle towards a rather nervous-looking Jack, she could barely concentrate for wondering what Max was going to say to her once they were facing each other over their garlic mushrooms at the lunch afterwards. There was no way she was going to be able to force down a bite of food until they’d resolved this.
Oh, get a grip, Cara.
When she dared take a peek at him from the corner of her eye again, he seemed to be grimly staring straight ahead. Forcing herself to relax, she uncrossed her legs, then her arms and sat up straighter, determined not to appear anxious or pitiful. She knew what she had to do. There would be no gratuitous begging or bartering for a reprieve. She would hold her head high throughout it all and calmly state her case.
And until she had that opportunity she was going to damn well enjoy watching her friend get married.
* * *
Judging by her rigid posture and ashen complexion, Cara really didn’t appear to be enjoying the ceremony, which only increased Max’s discomfort at being there, too. Not that he blamed her in any way for it. He’d chosen to come here with her after all. Though, from the sound of it, she must be regretting bringing him along now.
Had he really been so unapproachable that she’d chosen to lie to his face instead of admitting to having a rough time at her last place of work?
He sighed inwardly.
She was absolutely right, though. Again. He could be intimidating. And he’d been at the peak of his remoteness when she’d first arrived on his doorstep and asked him for a job. He also knew that if she’d mentioned the personal issues that had been intrinsic to her leaving her last job when they’d first met it would have given him pause enough to turn her away. He hadn’t wanted any kind of complication at that point.
But he was so glad now that he hadn’t.
Somehow, in her innocent passive-aggressive way, she’d managed to push his buttons and, even though he’d fought it at the time, that was exactly what he’d needed.
She was what he’d needed.
After the ceremony finished they were immediately ushered out of the church and straight up the sweeping manicured driveway to the front of a grand Georgian house where an enormous canvas marquee had been set up next to the orangery.
A small affair, his foot.
As soon as they stepped inside they had toxic-coloured cocktails thrust upon them and were politely but firmly asked to make their way back outside again to the linen-draped tables on the terrace next to the house.
‘This is like a military operation,’ he muttered to Cara, who had walked quietly next to him since they’d left the church, her face pale and her expression serious. She gave him a weak smile, her eyes darting from side to side as if she was seriously contemplating making a run for it and scoping out the best means of escape.
He sighed. ‘Come and sit down over here where it’s quiet,’ he said, looping his arm through hers and guiding her towards one of the empty tables nearest the house.
To his frustration she stiffened, then slipped out of his steadying grip and folded her arms across her chest instead, her shoulders rigid and her chin firmly up as they walked. Just as they picked their way over the last bit of gravelled path to reach the table she stumbled and on reflex he quickly moved in to catch her.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, placing a hand on the exposed part of her back, feeling the heat of her body warm the palm of his hand and send an echoing sensation through his entire abdomen.
His touch seemed to undo something in her and she collapsed into the nearest chair and gave him such a fearful look his heart jumped into his throat.
‘I’m sorry for lying to you, Max. Please don’t fire me. If I lose this job I’ll have to move back to Cornwall and I really, really don’t want to leave London. It’s my home and I love it. I can’t imagine living anywhere else now. And I really like working for you.’ Swallowing hard, she gave him a small quavering smile. ‘I swear I will never lie to you again. Believe it or not, I usually have a rock-solid moral compass and if I hadn’t felt backed into a corner I never would have twisted the truth. I was on the cusp of losing everything and I was desperate, Max. Totally. Desperate.’ She punctuated each of the last words with a slap of her hand on the table.
‘Cara, I’m not going to fire you.’
How could she think that he would? Good grief, had he done such a number on her that she’d think he’d be capable of something as heartless as that?
‘You’re not?’ Her eyes shone in the reflected brightness thrown up by the white tablecloth and he looked away while she blinked back threatening tears.
‘Of course not.’ He shifted forward in his seat, closer to her. ‘You well and truly proved your worth to the business last week.’ He waited till she looked at him again. ‘I have to admit, I’m hurt that you thought I’d fire you for admitting to being bullied.’ He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. ‘God, you must think I’m a real tool if you seriously believed I’d do something like that.’
‘It’s just—you can be a bit...fierce...sometimes. And I didn’t want to show any weakness.’ She visibly cringed as she said it, and his insides plummeted.
‘Tell me more about what happened at your last job,’ he said quietly, wanting to get things completely straight between them, but not wanting to spook her further in the process.
Her gaze slid away. ‘It’s not a happy tale, or something I’m particularly proud of.’
‘No. I got that impression.’
‘Okay, I’ll tell you, but please don’t judge me too harshly. Things like this always look so simple and manageable from a distance, but when you’re in the thick of it, it’s incredibly difficult to think straight without letting your emotions get in the way.’
He held up his hands, palms forward, and affected a non-judgemental expression.
She nodded and sat up straighter. ‘I thought I’d hit the jackpot when I was offered that position. Ugh! What an idiot,’ she said, her self-conscious grimace making him want to move closer to her, to draw her towards him and smooth out the kinks of her pain. But he couldn’t do that. It wasn’t his place.
So he just nodded and waited for her to continue.
‘When I started as Executive Assistant to the CEO of LED Software I had no idea about the office politics that were going on there. But it didn’t take me long to find out. Apparently one of the other PAs had expected to be a shoo-in for my job and was very unimpressed when they gave it to me. She made it her mission from my first day to make my life miserable. As one of the longest-standing members of staff—and a very, er, strong personality—she had the allegiance of all the other PAs and a lot of the other members of staff and they ganged up on me. At first I thought I was going mad. I’d make diary appointments for my boss with other high-ranking members of staff in the company, which their PAs would claim to have no knowledge of by the time I sent him along for the meeting. Or the notes I’d print out for an important phone call with the Executive Board would go missing from his desk right before it took place and he’d have to take it unbriefed.’ She tapped her fingers on the table. ‘That did not go down well. My boss was a very proud guy and he expected things to be perfect.’
‘I can relate to that,’ Max said, forcing compassion into his smile despite the tug of disquiet in his gut. He was just as guilty when it came to perfectionism.
But, instead of admonishing him, she smiled back.
‘Lots of other little things like that happened,’ she continued, rubbing a hand across her forehead, ‘which made me look incompetent, but I couldn’t prove that someone was interfering with my work and when I mentioned it to my boss he’d wave away my concerns and suggest I was slipping up on the job and blaming others to cover my back. I let the stress of it get to me and started making real mistakes, things I never would have let slip at the last place I worked. It rattled me, to the point where I started believing I wasn’t cut out for the job. I wasn’t sleeping properly with the stress of it and I ended up breaking down one day in front of my boss. And that—’ she clicked her fingers ‘—was the end of our working relationship. He seemed to lose all respect for me after that and started giving the other PAs things that were my job to do.’
Max snorted in frustration. ‘The guy sounds like an idiot.’
She gave him a wan smile. ‘I was the idiot. I only found out what was really going on when I overheard a couple of the PAs laughing about it in the ladies’ bathroom.’
Her eyes were dark with an expression he couldn’t quite read now. Was it anger? Resentment? It certainly didn’t look like self-pity.
‘So you left,’ he prompted.
She took a sip of her drink and he did the same, grimacing at the claggy sweetness of the cocktail.
‘I had to,’ she said. ‘My professional reputation was at stake, not to mention my sanity. I couldn’t afford to be fired; it would have looked awful on my CV. Not to mention how upset my parents would have been. They’re desperate for me to have a successful career. They never had the opportunity to get a good education or well-paid job themselves so they scrimped and saved for years to put me through private school. It’s a point of pride for my dad in particular. Apparently he never shuts up to his friends about me working with “the movers and shakers in the Big Smoke”.’ She shot him an embarrassed grimace.
He smiled. ‘You’re lucky—my mother couldn’t give two hoots whether I’m successful or not. She’s not what you’d call an engaged parent.’
Her brow furrowed in sympathy. ‘And your father?’
‘I never met him.’ He leant back with a sigh. ‘My mother fell pregnant with me when she was sixteen and still maintains that she doesn’t know who he was. She was pretty wild in her youth and constantly moved us around the country. Barely a term at school would go by before she had us packing up and moving on. She couldn’t bear to stay in the same place for long. Not that she’s exactly settled now.’
Her gaze was sympathetic. ‘That must have been tough when you were young.’
He shrugged. ‘It was a bit. I never got to keep the friends I made for very long.’
He thought about how his unsettled youth had impacted on the way he liked to live now. He still didn’t like change, even all these years later; it made him tetchy and short-tempered. Which was something Cara had got to know all about recently.
Keen to pull his mind away from his own shortcomings, he leaned forward in his seat and recaptured eye contact with her. ‘So what happened when you handed in your notice?’
She started at the sudden flip in subject back to her and twisted the stem of her glass in her fingers, looking away from his gaze and focusing on the garish liquid as it swirled up towards the rim. ‘My boss didn’t even bat an eyelid, just tossed my letter of resignation onto his desk and went back to the email he was typing, which confirmed just how insignificant I was to him. I took a couple of weeks to get my head straight after that, but I needed another job. I’ve never earned enough to build up any savings and my landlord chose that moment to hoick my rent up. I sent my CV out everywhere and got a few interviews, but every one I attended was a washout. It was as if they could sense the cloud of failure that hung around me like a bad smell.’
‘And that’s when Poppy sent you to me.’
Wrinkling her nose, she gave him a rueful smile. ‘I told her a bit about what had happened before she went off to shoot her latest project and she must have thought the two of us could help each other out because she emailed me to suggest I try you for a job. She made it sound as if you were desperate for help and it seemed like fate that I should work for you.’
‘Desperate, huh?’ He leant back in his seat and raised an eyebrow, feeling amusement tug at his mouth. That was textbook Poppy. ‘Well, I have to admit it’s been good for me, having you around. It’s certainly kept me on my toes.’
‘Yeah, there’s never a dull moment when I’m around, huh?’
The air seemed to grow thick between them as their eyes met and he watched in arrested fascination as her cheeks flamed with colour.
Sliding her gaze away, she stared down at the table, clutching her glass, her chewed nails in plain view. He’d known it the whole time, of course, that she was fighting against some inner trauma, as her nerve and buoyancy deteriorated in the face of his brittle moods. Her increasingly ragged nails had been the indicator he’d been determined to ignore.
But not any more.
A string quartet suddenly started up on the terrace behind them and he winced as the sound assaulted his ears. He’d never liked the sound of violins and an instrument such as that should never be used to play soft rock covers. It was a crime against humanity.
‘Come on, let’s take a walk around the grounds and clear our heads,’ he said, standing up and holding out his hand to help her up from the chair.
She looked at it with that little frown that always made something twist in his chest, before giving a firm nod and putting her hand in his.
