Читать книгу The British Bachelors Collection - Сара Крейвен, Kate Hardy - Страница 30

CHAPTER TEN

IT WAS RAINING by the time Violet made it back to her house. A fine, needle-sharp drizzle that she barely noticed. She took the Tube and bus back to her house on autopilot. She couldn’t think straight and her heart was thumping like a steam engine inside her chest, making it uncomfortable to breathe.

She wanted to block out images of Damien with Annalise. She tried hard to tell herself that it didn’t matter, that he was a free man who could do whatever he liked with whomever he liked. Unfortunately, no amount of cool logic could paper over the devastation she felt nor could it stop the flood of painful speculation that assailed her, wave upon wave, upon wave until she wanted to pass out.

He was back with his ex, back with the only woman he had never been able to forget, the only woman to whom he had wanted to commit, fully and without reservation or a list of sensible reasons why the match could work out. It certainly hadn’t taken him long to reconnect. Was it because her rejection of his proposal had put things into perspective for him? Made him wake up and realise that marriage was more than a list of dos and don’ts? Had that propelled him to seek out Annalise? Had it reminded him that, in his carefully controlled world, there was still one woman who had broken through the boundaries and that he needed to find her and tell her? They certainly had looked very cosy with one another.

And Annalise was much more his style than she, Violet, could ever hope to be. Tall, skinny, beautiful. Nor did she look like a typical bimbo. No, she looked like one of those rare, annoying breeds—a true beauty who also had brains.

She couldn’t look at herself in the mirror as she banged about in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. She didn’t want to see the comparisons between her and his ex. Thinking about comparisons drained her of all her self-confidence. Had he only really seen her as a novelty? The broad bean versus the runner bean? Had he fallen into bed with her because she had been there? Available and eager? Was he any different from any other man in a situation where opportunity was handed to him on a plate? No one could accuse him of being the sort of guy who took relationships seriously, who held out for the right woman. He was a red-blooded male with a rampant libido who took what he wanted. And she had been there for the taking. And then he had proposed because it was convenient. He was never going to fall in love; he had done that with Annalise, so why not hitch up with the woman who had won his family’s approval? Noticeably, he had only proposed when he had woken up to the reality that she might walk out on him.

She climbed into bed and tried to read and only realised that she had actually fallen asleep when she was awakened by two things.

The first was the sound of the rain. It had progressed from a persistent drizzle to the wild rapping of rain against her windows. She had left one window slightly ajar and the voile curtain was blowing furiously under the force of the wind. When she went to close it, she realised that the chest of drawers just underneath was splattered in rainwater but she had no intention of doing anything about that just at the moment.

Because, competing with the howling of the wind and the rain, was the thunderous sound of someone banging on her front door.

Outside, dripping water, Damien was cursing the English weather. Between eight, when he had opened his front door to Violet, and midnight, when he had finally managed to get rid of Annalise, the rain had picked up. Now, at a little after three-thirty, the only thing that could be said in favour of his jumping in his car and coming here was the fact that the roads had been traffic-free.

He noticed that one of the lights in the house had now been turned on and breathed a sigh of relief. He really didn’t want to remain outside her house for the remainder of the night, although he would have, had she not answered the door.

Violet had stuck on her bathrobe to see who was at the door. Her immediate thought when she had heard the banging was to imagine that it was someone trying to break in but, almost as soon as she thought that, she realised that it was a ridiculous supposition because since when did intruders give advance notice of their intention by banging on doors?

So was it someone who needed help? She knew her neighbours. The old lady living next door was quite frail. Was there something wrong? She tried and failed to imagine small Mrs Wilson, in her late eighties, having the strength to venture out of her house in the early hours of the morning to bang on a door.

As she hurried downstairs, switching on lights in her wake, she could feel her heart pounding because, of course, there was someone else it might be, but, like her scenario involving the polite burglar knocking to warn her of his imminent break-in, the thought that it might be Damien was too far-fetched to be worth consideration.

The safety chain was on and as she opened the door a crack she knew instantly that the one man she had least expected was standing outside. There was a storm raging outside her house, or so it seemed. The wind was sending his trench coat in all directions and the rain was whipping down at a slant. His feet were planted squarely on the ground but, as she pulled the door open a little wider, he placed his hand against the doorframe to look down at her.

He was drenched. Soaked through.

‘What do you want?’ Violet wrapped the robe tightly around her. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Violet, let me in.’

‘Where’s your girlfriend, Damien? Is she waiting in the car for you?’ She could have kicked herself for mentioning Annalise but, at this point, she really didn’t care.

‘Let me in.’

‘I don’t know why you’ve come but I don’t want you here.’

‘Please.’

That single word stopped Violet in her tracks. She could feel the rain beating down towards her and she stepped back into the house to avoid being soaked.

‘I have nothing to say to you.’

‘Maybe there are things that I need to say to you.’

But, tellingly, he hadn’t followed her into the hall. He remained standing on the doorstep, getting drenched. Was he hesitant? Violet thought in some confusion. Surely not! Hesitancy was one of those emotions he didn’t do. Along with love. And yet he was still standing there, getting wet and looking at her.

‘What could you possibly want to say to me, Damien? I just came to see your mother. I didn’t come to try and start back what we had! You’re out of my life and if I was a little...a little...disconcerted, it was because I hadn’t expected to be confronted with your girlfriend! Quick work, Damien!’

‘Ex. Ex-girlfriend. Please let me in, Violet. I’m not going to barge my way into your house and if you tell me that you don’t want to see me again, then I’ll go.’

Tell him to go and she would never see him again. Of course, that would be for the best. They really had nothing to say to one another. Less than nothing. Maybe he had braved the foul weather because he felt badly, because he wanted to explain to her, face to face, how it was that Annalise was back in his life. Perhaps he thought that he might be doing her a favour by playing the good guy and filling her in. And still, painful though that thought was, her mind seized up when she thought of him disappearing back into the driving rain and vanishing out of her life for good, without saying what he had to say.

‘It’s late.’ She stood aside and folded her arms as he dripped his way into her hall and removed the trench coat. His hair was plastered down and he raked his fingers through it, which just scattered the drops of water.

‘Perhaps I could have a towel...’

‘I suppose so,’ Violet muttered a little ungraciously.

She returned a few minutes later to find him in the same spot, standing in the hall. Where was the guy who had never hesitated to make himself at home? Where was the self-assured man who knew the layout of her kitchen, who might be expected to make himself a cup of coffee?

She watched in silence as he roughly dried himself. He made no attempt to remove his jumper, which clung to him, and she bit back the temptation to tell him to take it off because if he didn’t he would catch cold.

‘I’m sorry you had to find Annalise in my house,’ Damien said heavily.

Violet broke eye contact and headed towards the kitchen. He might be comfortable having a conversation neither of them wanted in the middle of her hallway, but she needed to sit down and she needed something to do with her hands. She was aware of him following her. It might be after three in the morning but every sense in her was on red alert.

‘It was unexpected, that’s all.’ She busied herself with the kettle, mugs, spoons, keeping her back to him because she was scared that if he saw her face he would be able to read what was going on in her mind. ‘Like I said...’

‘I know. My mother got you there on false pretences. I spoke to her. She...thought that a little bit of undercover matchmaking wouldn’t go amiss...’

‘And did you tell her about Annalise?’

‘No. There is no Annalise.’

And he didn’t know what had possessed him to open the door to her when she had showed up the previous evening. He had opened the door and he had invited her in. She had heard about Violet. Friend of a friend of a friend had seen them together at a restaurant...there were rumours...gossip, even...she was curious...he could talk to her...after all, they had a history...they were connected...weren’t they...?

At that point, Damien knew that he should have escorted her out. It was quite different bumping into her at a random company affair or even occasionally meeting her in a public place where, like a masochist, he could be reminded of his narrow escape, but letting her into his house had not been a good idea.

And yet hadn’t there been a part of him that had questioned whether Annalise might not be reintroduced into his life? Violet had walked out and he hadn’t known what to do with the chaos of his emotions when she had left. Hadn’t a part of him bitterly wondered whether Annalise, who could never wield the sort of crazy control over him that Violet had, might not just be the better bet? He had had his marriage proposal chucked back in his face. Annalise...well, he could buy her and what you could buy, you could control.

He had let her in and the moment of questioning had gone as quickly as it had arrived. But she was in his house and, foolishly, he had prevaricated about throwing her out. Would it have been asking too much of fate to step aside for a while and not steer Violet towards his doorstep?

‘What do you mean?’ Clasping her cup of coffee between her hands, she stalked out towards the sitting room. She hadn’t offered him anything to drink. It was meant as a pointed reminder that she had only allowed him in under duress, but really, if he thought that he could somehow try and come up smelling of roses, then he was mistaken.

She sat down and when she looked up it was to find him hovering by the door.

‘You might as well sit down, Damien. But I’m tired and I’m not in the mood for a conversation.’

‘I know.’ He removed the jumper, which was heavy and wet, and carefully put it over one of the radiators, then he prowled over to the window, parted the curtains a crack and peered outside into the bleak rainy night. ‘I didn’t invite her,’ he offered at last. ‘She showed up.’

‘It’s none of my business anyway.’

‘Everything I do should be your business,’ Damien muttered, flushing darkly. ‘At least, that’s what I’d like.’ He thought that this must be what it felt like to indulge in a dangerous sport, one where the outcome was a life or death situation. ‘And I would understand if you don’t believe me, Violet.’

‘I don’t understand what you’re saying.’ Violet’s voice was wary. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. He was even more compelling in this strangely vulnerable, puzzling mood. It was a side to him she had never seen before and it threw her. He circled the room, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other playing with his hair, before finally standing directly in front of her so that she was forced to look up at him.

‘Would you mind sitting down? I’m getting a crick in my neck looking up at you.’

‘I need you to sit next to me,’ Damien told her roughly. ‘There are things I need...to say to you and I need to have you...next to me when I say them...’ He sat on the sofa and patted the spot next to him. ‘Please, Violet.’ He grinned crookedly and looked away. ‘I bet you’ve never heard me say please so many times.’

‘I can’t do this. Just tell me why you’ve come. You didn’t have to. I know we had...something. You probably feel obliged to explain yourself to me. Well, don’t. So we broke up and you’ve returned to the love of your life.’ Violet shrugged. The vacant space on the sofa next to him begged her to fill it but she wasn’t going to give in to that dangerous temptation. He had this effect on her...could make her take her eyes off the ball and she wasn’t going to fall victim to that now.

‘I told you Annalise was my ex and she still is.’

‘And this is the ex you’ve seen on and off over the years?’

‘Sometimes it pays to be reminded of your mistakes.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I can’t talk when you’re sitting on the other side of the room. It’s hard enough...as it is... I don’t usually...’ He raked his fingers through his hair and realised that he was shaking.

Reluctantly, Violet went to perch on the sofa. Just closing this small gap between them made her stomach twist in nervous knots.

‘Once upon a time,’ Damien said heavily, ‘I fancied myself in love with Annalise. I was young. She was beautiful, clever...ticked all the boxes. It was a whirlwind romance, just the sort of thing you read about in books, and I proposed to her.’

‘You don’t need to tell me any of this,’ Violet interjected stiffly and yet she wanted to hear every word of it.

‘I need to and I want to. You’d be surprised if I told you that I’ve never felt the slightest inclination to share any of the details of my relationship with Annalise with anyone.’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised. You keep everything locked up inside.’

‘I do.’

‘You’re agreeing with me. Why?’

‘Because you’re right. I’ve always kept everything locked up inside. It’s why no one has ever known what Annalise really meant to me.’

And he was about to tell her. Yet the details so far weren’t adding up to the love of his life and she fought to subdue the tendril of hope unfurling inside her that there might be another side of the story. Ever since she had met him, her placid life had become a roller coaster ride, hope alternating with despair before rising again to the surface like a terrible virus over which she had no control. Did she want to get back on that ride? Did she want to nurture that tendril of hope until it began growing into something uncontrollable? She could feel tears of frustration and dismay prick the back of her eyes. She curled her fingers in her lap and was shocked when he reached out and slowly uncurled them so that he could abstractedly play with them.

It was just the lightest of touches but it was enough to send her body into wild shock.

‘Annalise turned me down because she couldn’t cope with the prospect of being saddled, at some point in time, with a disabled brother-in-law.’

‘What?’ This was not what she had been expecting to hear and she leaned forward to catch what he was saying.

‘She met Dominic and I knew instantly that she couldn’t cope with his condition. For Annalise, everything was about perfection. Dominic was not perfect. She knew that at some point I would be responsible for him. She had visions of him living with us, her having to incorporate him into the perfect world she was desperate to have.’

‘That’s...that’s awful...’ Violet reached out and rested her hand on his arm and felt him shudder.

‘From that moment onwards, I knew that never again would I put myself in a position of vulnerability. I enjoyed women but they had their place and I made damn sure that they never overstepped it. And just in case I was ever tempted to forget, I made sure that Annalise was never completely eliminated from my life.’

‘And yet she was there tonight. In your...in your house...’

‘You turned me down. I asked you to marry me and you turned me down.’

Because you couldn’t love me! Despite everything he had said, he still didn’t love her. He was just explaining why he couldn’t. She would do well to remember that and not get swept away by this strange mood he was in and his haltering confidences.

‘When Annalise showed up on my doorstep, I let her in because I was...not myself. No, that doesn’t really explain it either. I was going out of my mind. Had been ever since we broke up. I told myself that it was for the best, that you could damn well go your own way and find out first-hand that there was no such thing as the perfect soulmate, but I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t function... I resented the fact that even when you were no longer around, you were still managing to control my behaviour.’

Violet was finding it impossible to filter the things he was telling her.

‘I am ashamed to say that I briefly considered Annalise a known quantity and that maybe the devil you know... Of course, it was just a passing aberration. I got rid of her as fast as I could and then I waited...for normality to return. It didn’t.’

‘So you came here...to tell me what? Exactly?’ She pinned her mouth into a stubborn line but she had broken out in a fine film of nervous perspiration. She tried to ignore the way he was still toying distractedly with her fingers and the way their bodies were leaning urgently towards each other, radiating a fevered heat that made her want to swoon. His familiar scent filled her nostrils. Once, she had found him devastatingly attractive. Having slept with him, knowing the contours of his lean, hard body, the body along which she had run her hands and her mouth so many times, made him horribly, painfully irresistible. Familiarity hadn’t bred contempt. The opposite. It had ratcheted up the level of his sexual pull to the extent that she could barely think of anything else as she continued to stare at him, pupils dilated, dreading the way her body was reacting in ways her brain was telling it not to.

‘That I proposed to you because...it made sense. I didn’t realise...’ He withdrew his hand to tousle his dark hair. ‘I didn’t think that I might have needed you in my life for reasons that didn’t make any sense. That you’d climbed under my skin and it wasn’t just to do with the good sex.’

‘What was it to do with?’

‘I’m in love with you. I don’t know when that happened or how, but...’

‘Say that again?’

‘Which bit?’

‘The bit about being in love with me.’ A feeling of being on top of the world, of pure joy, filled her like life-saving oxygen. She felt heady and giddy and euphoric all at the same time. ‘You didn’t say,’ she told him accusingly, but she was half laughing, half wanting to cry. ‘Why didn’t you say?’

‘I didn’t know...until you left...’

She flung herself into his arms and sighed with pure contentment when he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, so close that she could hear the beating of his heart. ‘You were so arrogant,’ she told him. ‘You forced me into an arrangement I hated. You broke all the rules when it came to the sort of guy I could ever be interested in. You didn’t want any kind of long-term relationship and I’ve never approved of men who move from woman to woman. And, as well, I was convinced that you were still wrapped up with Annalise, that you’d never let the memory go, that she was the ex no one had ever been able to live up to. On all fronts you were taboo, and then I met your family and I got sucked in to you...to all of you...and it was like being in quicksand. When you proposed, when you listed all the reasons why marrying me would make sense, I finally woke up to the fact that the one reason why anyone should get married was missing. You didn’t love me. I thought you didn’t know how and you never would and I couldn’t accept your offer, knowing that the power balance would be so uneven. I would forever be the helpless, dependent one, madly in love with you and waiting for the time when you got tired of me physically and the axe fell.’

‘And now?’

‘And now I’m the happiest person in the world!’

‘So if I ask you again to marry me...this time for all the right reasons...’

‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’

Damien shuddered with relief. He felt as if he’d been holding his breath ever since he’d walked into the house. His arms tightened around her and he breathed in the fresh floral smell of her hair. ‘You’ve made me the happiest person in the world as well...’ Then he gave a low rumble of laughter. ‘And I don’t think my mother or Dominic will mind too much either...’