Читать книгу Craving His Forbidden Innocent - Louise Fuller - Страница 11

SHIFTING THE PHONE against his ear, Bautista Caine silently dismissed his PA with a sharp upward flick of his head and turned his attention back to his sister’s voice.

Not that Alicia was saying anything new in her message. It was more or less a repeat of what she’d said at the weekend—that she was so grateful, and he was the best brother, and she loved him—but it was still good to hear.

His mouth twisted. It had been a difficult, upsetting conversation, but was there any other kind when the subject was Mimi Miller?

He felt his shoulders tense against the fabric of his suit jacket.

Mimi, with her long blonde hair, even longer legs and those silky, soft lips that had melted against his in a kiss he had never forgotten… A kiss that had stifled all common sense and conscience and shaken him to his soul—

He gritted his teeth as his body stiffened like a pointer scenting game.

She was like the proverbial bad penny and probably always would be, given that nothing he’d said to his sister seemed to change her opinion of Mimi. Only a day ago she had told him quite earnestly that Mimi lacked confidence.

Yeah, right, and he was the Easter Bunny.

Nearly two years had passed since he’d dispatched his sister to New York—ostensibly on the basis that it was a chance for her to learn first-hand about the day-to-day running of the Caine charitable foundation. He’d assumed that the geographical distance and the fact that she would be meeting new and—to his mind anyway—far more appropriate people, would finally bring an end to her incomprehensible and unfortunate friendship with Mimi.

He’d been wrong.

Gazing out of the window at the massed daffodils in the garden of his family’s London residence, he narrowed his dark eyes as he mulled over his sister’s upcoming marriage to Philip Hennessy.

The news had been neither surprising nor unwelcome, but Alicia’s blithe announcement that she wanted Mimi to be her maid of honour had been both. He wasn’t sure what had shocked him more: the fact that the two of them were still friends after so many months of separation, or the fact that his sister had chosen to keep their continuing friendship secret from him.

No, that wasn’t fair.

He was sure that if he’d asked about Mimi Alicia would have told him anything he wanted to know. But of course he hadn’t asked. He hadn’t wanted to hear Mimi’s name—much less have to face the memory of the last time he’d seen her, or his own part in what had been the narrowest of narrow escapes. It had been easier to assume that out of sight meant out of mind.

Only, despite his concerted efforts to make her so, Mimi Miller was never far from his mind. How could she be? Every time he saw his father he was reminded of the damage caused by her crooked relatives—and, worse, those few hours when he’d let his basest needs overrule his duty to safeguard his family.

He breathed out slowly against the knot in his shoulders.

As usual, when he let himself think about his sister’s twenty-first birthday party, he felt the same see-sawing mix of anger and regret. And, as usual, he told himself that it had been a one-off, a momentary lapse of good sense, that he had been caught off-guard by her looking like that, looking at him like that. For up until that moment in time he’d seen Mimi simply as a child.

Afterwards he had tried to tell himself that it wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t chosen to be related by blood and marriage to a pair of crooks, and he hadn’t blamed her for what her stepfather and uncle had done.

His lip curled. No, the blame for that lay squarely with him—for introducing Charlie Butler and Raymond Cavendish to his father, for not seeing beneath their urbane charm.

Yet he couldn’t completely absolve Mimi of responsibility for her actions.

Even on the night there had been a couple of moments when he’d felt uneasy—something he’d put down to her being Alicia’s friend…a friend of the family. Later, though—too late, in fact—it had become humiliatingly clear that she had played a part in her family’s deception.

She had almost played him—so very nearly played him.

And incredibly, despite everything else that had happened, it was that betrayal—her betrayal—and his stupidity that still hurt the most now.

He felt the knot in his shoulders tighten.

At first he’d wanted it to be a coincidence, but her rapid, unexplained exit from the party had confirmed her guilt in his mind, and as events unfolded he’d stopped looking to exonerate her.

Later, for his father’s sake and for the reputation of his family, he’d tried to deter Alicia from continuing their friendship—only, of course, his soft-hearted sister had ignored his advice.

He felt a surge of irritation. Not with Alicia. He knew she didn’t live in the real world. But he did. And it was bad enough having led the wolves to his door once. Now it turned out that he’d failed again by not insisting she cut all ties with Mimi.

The tension in his shoulders was inching down his spine.

He knew exactly how it would play out if the media ever found out that his sister was BFF with the stepdaughter and niece of the men who had looted the Caine employees’ pension funds. It wasn’t going to be hard for them to find it out if Alicia made Mimi her maid of honour—and that was why he’d just had to tell his sister that it couldn’t happen.

His jaw tensed.

Hearing her so upset had hurt. But the alternative—having Mimi centre-stage at the wedding and in the photos—was just not an option. So he’d used his father’s ill-health and the potential damage to the family name to get her to change her mind, and it had worked, but he’d had to come up with something to soften the blow.

He’d done that too, only it was not ideal—far from it. For it would mean letting Mimi Miller back into his life. But he was going to see it through for his sister’s sake.

Easing back in his chair, he felt his heart kick against his ribs.

This time there would be no lapses—momentary or otherwise. No loss of control nor lowering of his guard. No having to live with the knowledge that he had come close to putting his family in jeopardy for a second time.

This time it was going to be different. He would be pulling her strings, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Mimi Miller was running late.

Literally running.

Although, thanks to the heels she had unwisely chosen to wear, it was more a stumbling dash than a full-on sprint, and already her lungs were begging for mercy.

Oh, thank goodness.

This was the street. Slowing down to an unsteady walk, she caught sight of her reflection in a shop window and breathed out shakily.

It was her own fault she’d had to rush.

Not because she’d been dithering over what to wear. Clothes weren’t really her thing and she only owned two dresses—one of which she hated because it was so tied up with love and dreams and heartache. Her other dress, a navy and white polka dot one, had looked sweet when she’d tried it on at home, but then she’d seen the state of her waist-length blonde hair and, panicking, walked straight into the nearest hair salon for a last-minute and eye-wateringly expensive blow-dry.

But it had been worth it, she thought, her skin tingling with excitement and happiness. Today was the first time she’d seen her best friend in nearly two years and she wanted to celebrate.

Stepping inside the restaurant, she glanced down at her legs, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Jeans and a T-shirt, preferably several sizes too large, was her usual outfit of choice, but Tenedor was a super-exclusive Argentinian eatery, popular with celebrities for its discreet staff and the tinted windows that made life hard for the paparazzi. It was definitely not the kind of venue you turned up to wearing faded denim.

Her breathing lurched. Should she even be here? It was a long time since she’d moved in these circles—two horrible, hopeless years since Charlie and Raymond had been sent to prison and her life had changed for ever.

But she was being stupid. Nobody was going to connect her with that haunted-looking girl outside the courtroom.

Above the diminishing drumroll of her heart she gave her name to the unsmiling maître d’ and followed him through the restaurant, her excitement at seeing Alicia overriding her panic at being so conspicuous.

She still couldn’t believe that it was two years since she’d last seen her friend. After Charlie and Raymond’s arrest they had spoken on the phone—a short, unhappy conversation, with her apologising over and over for what had happened and Alicia tearfully repeating that it changed nothing between them.

Since then they had talked and texted, but after moving to New York Alicia had been busy working for her family’s charitable foundation, and then she had met and fallen in love with Philip Hennessy, heir to a restaurant empire, and that had obviously taken up most of her time.

Now she and Philip were engaged, and according to the save the date card she’d received the wedding was going to be in May—less than three months away.

In other words, Alicia was effortlessly hitting all the milestones of adulthood.

Mimi’s chest tightened. Whereas she was working as a barista in a coffee shop at Borough Market, her youthful ambitions to become a film director having stalled before they got started.

And as for her love-life…

It wasn’t even a case of the less said the better—there was literally nothing to say. Her one bungled foray into the world of sexual relationships had left her with her virginity intact and her confidence so battered that she’d decided to put that part of her life on hold indefinitely.

She sighed. Early spring made being single seem so much harder. London’s parks seemed to be full of pairs of ducks and deer all cosying up together, and it didn’t help that the scent of spring flowers reminded her of Alicia’s birthday party.

And Alicia’s birthday party reminded her of Bautista.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Bautista Caine.

Her best friend’s older brother—her first crush. The man who had broken her heart and then walked away without so much as a backward glance.

Bautista…with his curving, lazy smile and steady dark gaze.

She hadn’t been alone in fantasising about him. Practically every girl in their school, and probably some of their mothers too, had drooled over him whenever he’d turned up to collect his sister, and it only took the briefest of glances at him to understand why.

He was smart, successful, and so charming that birds didn’t just fly off the trees, they dropped like overripe fruit. Not that he was interested in schoolgirls or their mums. His girlfriends were all long-limbed, pouty-lipped models. Hardly surprising, then, that he’d found it so humiliatingly easy to turn down a night with his sister’s gauche friend.

Her stomach tightened—only this time not with excitement.

It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to think about Bautista and the night they hadn’t spent together. But ever since Alicia had announced her engagement it had been getting harder and harder to hold back the memories and ignore the fact that at some point she was going to have to see him again or forfeit her friend’s wedding. Because Alicia worshipped and adored her brother, and he adored her right back.

Unfortunately his feelings for Mimi were somewhat cooler—if complete indifference even had a temperature.

She shivered. It had been one of the few positives about Alicia’s absence: not having to face the man who had kissed her and then an hour later looked straight through her as if she didn’t exist.

And that had been before he’d found out about Charlie and Raymond’s appalling abuse of trust.

She felt her stomach contract. Before that night at Fairbourne he’d treated her with measured politeness, but judging by his concerted efforts to keep Alicia on a different continent for the past two years—her friend had let slip that it had been his idea for her to move to New York—he clearly thought she was not to be trusted.

But maybe by the time they did come face to face she might actually have met someone who would compare to Bautista Caine and not be found wanting. Her heart skipped. Maybe she might be able to tell him truthfully that he wasn’t all that—

‘Mimi!’

It was Alicia, in a beautiful yellow dress, a smile splitting her face, her brown eyes shining with happiness and affection, and suddenly they were hugging and laughing and both talking at once.

‘Oh, it’s so good to see you.’ Alicia took a step back and gazed at her with undisguised happiness. ‘I thought you might be too busy to fit me in.’

‘Doing what?’

‘I don’t know—you might have been hanging out at some indie film festival.’

Mimi laughed. ‘Well, duh, that’s next month.’

Giggling, Alicia gave her another crushing hug. ‘I’ve missed you so much. I know we talk on the phone and stuff, but it’s not the same as having you here.’

Mimi felt her ribs tighten. ‘I’ve missed you too.’

Alicia smiled. ‘You look amazing.’

‘You mean I’m wearing a dress.’

‘No, I mean you look amazing,’ Alicia said firmly. ‘Doesn’t she?’ She turned to the tall, fair-haired man standing behind her. ‘Philip, this is my best friend—the very talented, soon-to-be-discovered filmmaker, Mimi Miller. Mimi, this is Philip. The love of my life and a perfect saint.’

Mimi squeezed her friend’s hand. This was what she loved most about Alicia—the way she spoke from the heart. Anyone else would be hiding their feelings, trying to play it cool, making a joke, but Alicia had always been unashamedly open and honest.

Philip stepped forward. ‘Hi, Mimi.’ He kissed her lightly on both cheeks. ‘Alicia talks about you so much I feel like I already know you.’

‘And it didn’t put you off coming to lunch?’ She smiled at her friend. ‘You’re right—he is a saint.’

‘Hardly!’ Philip laughed, and then he turned towards Alicia, his eyes softening. ‘Alicia’s the saint. She makes the world a better place, and I’m the luckiest man alive.’

Mimi nodded. ‘Yes, you are,’ she said quietly.

But her pulse was beating out of time and she felt a familiar ache in her chest. Would any man ever say those words to her?

It seemed unlikely. She’d only ever really loved one man, and he had made it so dauntingly clear that his interest in her had been nothing more than a moment of indiscretion to be swiftly forgotten that she had decided there and then that she was not ready for love. Maybe she never would be if it involved making herself vulnerable to such unbearable hurt.

Her jaw tightened as she remembered how for a couple of hours she’d let herself believe that her youthful fantasy of love might become reality, only for Bautista Caine to trample her heart and her pride into dust.

Even now, nearly two years later, she could still picture his face as he had stared straight through her, despite having kissed her just an hour earlier with an intensity that had left her blinded, breathless and dazed.

She could feel herself being sucked towards the familiar vortex of unanswered questions.

Why had he kissed her?

No, why had he kissed her like that?

With such fierce, consuming hunger.

And why hadn’t he come back?

Had she been too eager? Too clumsy?

Her heart balled like a fist.

It had hurt so much. It still did, if she let herself think about it, and what made the pain a thousand times worse was him being her best friend’s older brother, for that meant she had no one to confide in.

Her stomach tightened.

She’d have liked to pretend that she hadn’t said anything to Alicia purely out of love, and a desire not to put her friend in the middle, but part of her had been afraid. She knew what it was to be cast out into the darkness, and she hadn’t been willing to risk losing Alicia as she had lost everything else.

And anyway, there had been too much other stuff going on—important stuff. Charlie and Raymond had been arrested and their two families had been torn apart, so she’d hardly been in a position to just call up her friend and discuss not sleeping with her brother.

But now was not the time to be dredging up that particularly dismal part of the past, she told herself firmly. Her best friend was here in London, and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

Sitting down, she glanced admiringly around the restaurant. ‘This is such an amazing place.’

‘Never mind that. I want you to tell me everything you’ve been doing,’ Alicia said, laying down her menu. ‘Starting with your film.’

Stalling for time, Mimi picked up her water glass. There was depressingly little to say. Like everything else she touched, it had fallen apart—all her effort and hopes turning to dust just as they always did.

It was true that she had made a film—a short, largely improvised black and white movie about a group of girls on a night out in London—and, incredibly, she had managed to find a distributor for it. Only that had been nine months ago, and she was still struggling to get it released. And, frankly, the chances of that ever happening seemed to be getting less and less likely.

She felt a twinge of tension in her shoulders.

When filming had begun, both her lead actresses had been desperate to grab some arthouse credentials, but since then they had signed on to a high school movie franchise, and now their lawyers were blocking her film’s release on the grounds that their clients had only made the movie as a ‘favour’ to her.

It wasn’t true. The real reason those actresses didn’t want to see the film released was that some of their ‘improvised’ comments were not very PG, and they didn’t want to damage their new, fresh-faced images.

It was all such a mess—and far too long and boring a story for a celebratory lunch.

She shook her head. ‘Later.’ Reaching over, she picked up Alicia’s hand and turned it over so that the diamond engagement ring glinted beneath the lights. ‘Right now I want to hear all about how you two got together.’

Watching her friend talk, Mimi found herself relaxing. There was something so innocent and hopeful about Alicia. Philip was right. She did make the world a better place, and she wanted to make the world better for everyone too.

‘So, how many people are coming to the wedding?’ she asked as the waiters cleared the table.

Philip frowned. ‘We’ve tried to keep the numbers down to about two hundred.’

Mimi almost laughed. But of course—their wedding wasn’t just a private exchange of vows. It was a huge event in the social calendar.

She cleared her throat. ‘I’m guessing you’re going to have it at Fairbourne?’

Before her life had been turned upside down she’d been a regular guest at Fairbourne, the Caines’ fabled ivy-clad Georgian manor. She could still remember her first visit—how dazzled she’d been by the grandeur and beauty of the house and the almost ludicrous perfection of everything in it.

Although not nearly so dazzled as she’d been when the beautiful, dark-eyed heir to the estate had kissed her all the way to his bedroom, closing the door and pulling off his clothes first, then hers.

Her stomach clenched.

She felt her fingers twitch against the smooth white tablecloth. Bautista looked sexy as hell clothed. He had the kind of lean, muscular physique and sculpted body that allowed him to wear anything and make it look better than anyone else could. But naked—

Her mouth was suddenly dry. Naked, he was just beautiful, gorgeous…all endless, smooth golden skin and curving muscles.

An image of Bautista stretching out over her flickered before her eyes and she blinked it away as she saw Alicia shake her head, her soft brown eyes suddenly bright with tears.

‘Oh, Lissy, what is it?’

Philip took Alicia’s hand. ‘Bob had a viral infection at Christmas and he’s been a bit low since. That’s why we’ve brought the date forward to May.’

Mimi nodded, trying to calm her beating heart. She’d met Alicia’s father, financier and philanthropist Robert Caine, many times, and he’d always been a generous, gentle and welcoming host. She felt her stomach knot with guilt. Of course that had been before his already frail health had deteriorated following her stepfather and her uncle’s betrayal.

‘And it’s why we decided to have the wedding in Argentina,’ Philip added. ‘It’ll be autumn there, so warm but not humid.’

Alicia gave him a shaky smile, her face softening. ‘And Basa has very sweetly offered to let us use his estancia in Patagonia for the actual ceremony, and let guests stop over at his house in Buenos Aires en route.’

Mimi’s mouth curved upwards automatically, responding to the joy in her friend’s voice, but for a moment she couldn’t breathe or speak. Alicia’s words were jangling inside her head like the notes on an out-of-tune piano, but she heard herself say quite normally, ‘Oh, Lissy, that sounds wonderful.’

The waiters arrived with dessert and, glancing down at her hibiscus jelly and rum baba, Mimi suddenly felt sick. She’d known all along when she’d accepted Alicia’s invitation to lunch that it was only a matter of time before Bautista’s name came up in the conversation, but even so she was shocked by how much it hurt to hear it spoken out loud.

Was that how he felt when he heard her name?

Did he wince inside?

And if so was it with shame at how he’d treated her?

Or, given Charlie and Raymond’s actions, was he just relieved that he’d called time before they’d actually slept together?

She doubted that having sex with the stepdaughter of one of the men who had almost ruined his family would be high up on his list of personal goals.

‘It’s the most beautiful place, Mimi. There’s this huge expanse of sky, and the mountains in the distance, and soft golden grass in every direction.’ Alicia smiled shyly. ‘Basa says it’s the first step to heaven.’

Her heart stilled in her chest.

No, that had been the touch of his lips on hers, she thought, heat sweeping over her skin at the sudden sharp memory of what it felt like to be kissed by Bautista.

Her hand shaking slightly, she picked up her glass and drank some wine in a hard swallow. ‘I’m so looking forward to it, Lissy,’ she said, with a conviction she didn’t feel. ‘It’s going to be the most beautiful day. But is there anything I can do? I mean, I’m sure you’ve got heaps of people helping…’

‘Actually, there is one thing we were going to ask you…’

There was a beat of silence as Philip and Alicia glanced at one another.

‘Really?’ Mimi leaned forward. ‘So ask me?’

‘We’re going to have a photographer.’ Philip grimaced. ‘It’s not really our kind of thing, all those formal staged shots, but Bob and my parents are a little old-fashioned that way.’ He hesitated. ‘But what we’d really like is for you to make a film for us.’

‘Something personal,’ Alicia said quickly. ‘You know—like you did at school, with us just talking and being ourselves.’ Her mouth trembled. ‘You have such a gift, Mimi. You capture a moment and hold it for ever, and I thought you might be able to do that for us.’

Mimi blinked. Her hands were shaking and her throat felt thick. ‘You’d trust me to do that?’ she said slowly.

They both nodded.

Meeting her gaze, Alicia gave her a lopsided smile. ‘I’ve trusted you with my life—or have you forgotten playing lacrosse against St Margaret’s?’

Mimi grinned. ‘It’s seared into my brain.’

Glancing over at her friend, she suddenly felt dizzy. More than anything, she wanted to say yes. She loved Alicia, and what better way to prove that than by making her shy, modest friend the star of her own film?

But she knew Alicia too well, and without a doubt this was her way of showing her some support. She didn’t need to do that—not publicly, anyway, and especially not on her wedding day. It was enough for her that Alicia had always been such a loyal, true ally.

‘Oh, Lissy, I’m just an amateur, really. And this is your big day.’ She was trying to gather herself together.

‘Isn’t that exactly what I said she’d say?’ Glancing at Philip, Alicia shook her head. ‘I wish I could make you believe in yourself like I believe in you.’

Mimi rolled her eyes. ‘You’re a good friend, and it’s a lovely idea, but you’re biased.’

‘I knew you’d say that too.’

Alicia smiled, and something in her smile snagged a tripwire in Mimi’s head.

‘And you’re right—I am biased. But it doesn’t matter because it wasn’t my idea. Or Philip’s,’ she added as Mimi glanced at her fiancé. ‘It was Basa’s.’

Mimi froze. Her heartbeat was booming in her ears so loudly she was surprised everyone in the restaurant couldn’t hear it.

‘I don’t believe you,’ she said finally. And she didn’t.

The Caines might not actually live in a castle, but after her stepfather and uncle had been arrested the family had pulled up a metaphorical drawbridge. Overnight she had simply stopped being invited into their world. There had been no drama about it. They were far too well-bred to make a scene. But she had known from what Alicia hadn’t said that Robert and Bautista thought she was bad news, and she’d never had any reason to believe they had changed their mind.

Her breath felt jagged in her throat. All she had were those few hours at the party, when she’d mistakenly believed that Bautista felt about her as she felt about him.

‘And that’s why I asked him to join us so he could tell you himself.’

Finishing her sentence, Alicia lifted her hand and waved excitedly at someone across the restaurant.

Mimi glanced in the direction of her friend’s gaze and instantly felt the fine hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end. On the other side of the room, with a lock of dark hair falling across his face, his dark suit clinging to his lean, muscular body like the ivy that grew over his family’s Georgian mansion, was Bautista Caine.

Her heart seemed to stop beating.

Watching him move, she felt her body turn boneless. There was a swagger to the way he walked, a kind of innate poise and self-confidence that she had never possessed—except maybe briefly, when she was behind the camera. But even in a room like this—a room full of self-assured, beautiful people—he was by far the most beautiful, with his dark, almost black hair and eyes, and his fine features perfectly blending his English and Argentinian heritage.

But his impact on the crowded restaurant wasn’t just down to his bone structure, or those mesmerising sloe-dark eyes, or even that easy honeyed smile that made you forget your own name. He had what directors liked to refer to as presence: a mythical, elusive, intangible quality that made looking away from him an impossibility.

To her overstrained senses it seemed to take an age for him to reach the table. Quite a few of the diners clearly knew him and wanted to say hello. Her pulse skipped a beat as a famous Hollywood actress got to her feet and kissed him on both cheeks but Bautista seemed completely unfazed.

Of course he did: this was his world. More importantly, it wasn’t hers, and no amount of lunching with A-listers was ever going to change that fact.

Her understanding of that was the difference between now and two years ago when, high on the incredible thrill of finally being noticed by the object of her unrequited teenage affections, she’d let herself believe that their worlds could collide without any kind of collateral damage.

She knew better now. His abrupt change of heart had been humiliating and devastating—although of course his heart hadn’t been the organ involved in that particular encounter.

And that had made her humiliation complete. For although she might have been secretly hoping for a declaration of love, what she’d offered him had been sex. Simple, no-strings, walk-away-without-so-much-as-a-backward-glance sex.

And he’d turned her down.

Her heart felt like a jagged rock scraping against her ribs.

She had gone to his room willingly, eagerly, hoping, almost believing, that she could pull it off. But of course all she’d managed to do was prove to herself that, as usual, she was punching above her weight.

‘Basa.’

‘Philip.’

She watched numbly as the two men embraced.

‘No, don’t get up, Lissy.’ Leaning forward, Basa kissed his sister gently on both cheeks, and then Mimi felt her body tense as finally he turned towards her.

As their eyes met the chatter of the dining room seemed to recede.

Mimi stared at him in silence. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair for him to be so devastatingly good-looking. She wanted to hate him. She needed to hate him. Only it was hard to treat him as the despicable human being he was when he was packaged so delightfully.

But she wasn’t some love-struck girl living out a fantasy, she reminded herself quickly, and there was no excuse for feeling so jittery about a man who had treated her so badly.

‘Well, if it isn’t little Mimi Miller,’ he said softly. ‘In the flesh.’

She felt her pulse pool between her thighs. His voice was the icing on the cake. Not some simpering frosted butter but a dark molten glaze—what chocolate would sound like if it could talk.

He leaned down and she breathed in the faint hint of his cologne as his lips brushed against first one cheek and then the other. Her breath stumbled in her throat as he sat down beside her, stretching his long legs out in her direction so she quickly had to tuck hers under her chair to stop their limbs colliding.

He held her gaze for a moment, and then his dark, mocking eyes dropped to her mouth. Instantly she felt her skin begin to tingle, her nipples tightening against the fabric of her dress in a way that made her want to duck under the table and hide.

Breath burning in her throat, she watched him lean back in his seat, and then, turning to face Alicia, he said calmly, ‘So, what did I miss, Sis?’

She shook her head. ‘Most of lunch. You were supposed to be here at one o’clock.’

He grinned unrepentantly. ‘And I messaged you to say I’d be late.’ Reaching across the table, he grabbed his sister’s hand and squeezed it affectionately. ‘Hey, I’m sorry I missed lunch, okay? But, look, I can still have dessert.’

Lowering his ridiculously long eyelashes, he gazed pointedly at Mimi’s untouched rum baba.

‘Here. Knock yourself out.’ Smiling stiffly, she pushed her plate towards him, wishing she could throw it at his head.

‘Thank you.’ His fingers brushed against hers as he took the plate. ‘Now, isn’t this civilised?’

Their eyes met, and his cool, unblinking gaze made ice trickle down her spine, for it felt as if they were having a private and far less civilised conversation.

Oblivious to the tension, Philip leaned forward, his eyes seeking out a waiter. ‘Do you want coffee with that?’

Basa looked up from his food and nodded. ‘I could murder an espresso.’

Philip glanced at Mimi.

‘Yes, please.’ She smiled stiffly, relief washing over her skin. At least coffee meant this would soon be over and she could escape Basa’s taunting gaze.

‘So four espressos, then.’

‘Actually, could you make that just two?’ Alicia nudged her fiancé in the ribs. ‘We’re meeting your aunt now, remember?’

‘We are?’ Philip looked blank for a moment and then a flicker of understanding crossed his face and he nodded slowly. ‘Oh, yes, that’s right. We are…meeting my aunt.’

Basa rolled his eyes. ‘Really subtle, guys.’

He tilted his face towards Mimi and gave her a long, slow smile that sucked the air from her lungs.

‘My sister has probably told you that she invited me along so that I could persuade you to film her wedding, but actually that was just an excuse. She thinks we need to have a little chat, just you and me—you know, to clear the air about our families’ shared history.’

Mimi blinked.

Absolutely. Not.

She practically shouted the words inside her head, and she was just opening her mouth to repeat them out loud when Basa cut across her.

‘And I think she’s right,’ he said smoothly. ‘After all, a wedding is all about moving forward. But obviously if Mimi would rather not…?’

His eyes held hers, dark, uncompromising, daring her to refuse. Beside him, Alicia was staring at her, her own eyes soft and hopeful.

‘Please, Mimi. You’re two of my favourite people in the world, and I know you’re worried about what happened with your family and mine and that’s why you don’t want to film the wedding.’ She bit her lip. ‘Look, Philip and I are going to go now, but will you promise me that you’ll stay and talk? Please? For me?’

Mimi wanted to say no, to say that there was no point, because Basa wasn’t going to listen to anything she said. But the words wouldn’t form in her mouth. Not because she didn’t believe them or because they weren’t true—she did and they were—but because this was the first time she had found herself up against both Caine siblings and she knew she couldn’t fight the two of them.

Lifting her face to meet her friend’s, she forced her mouth into a smile, and beneath the blood roaring in her ears she heard herself say lightly, ‘Okay, I’ll stay and talk. I promise.’