got a First.’
‘She’d get a darn sight more if I got my hands on her.’ He shook her gently. ‘Listen to me, Cory. Life is what you make of it, OK? You don’t play with the cards you would have liked, you play with the ones you’ve been dealt and some of them can be lousy. Look at Lucinda. The woman was built to have babies—big, fat, Italian babies—but can you honestly say she is grieving her life away? Look at her at her birthday party; she was happy and making the most of what she did have.’
They had had a whale of a time at the party, which had gone on all night until everyone had been served breakfast, but now Cory said, ‘She knows John loves her, really loves her, and she loves him. She’s not confused or inhibited. She trusts him.’
‘Dead right. But if they could have had children their love would have flowed over and encompassed each one. You see that, don’t you? Because it’s real, it’s not selfish or restricting. You said yourself what your parents had was more obsession than love, so how the hell can you weigh anything they said or did to you in the balance and find yourself wanting? Of course you’re loveable. Damn it, I could eat you alive.’
She didn’t return his smile. How could she explain to him that she knew deep inside the day would come when he didn’t want her any more? She didn’t have the power to inspire real love. If she didn’t have it for her parents then why would anyone else love her? ‘William said he loved me,’ she said flatly.
‘William was a piece of dirt.’
She raised tortured eyes to his. ‘You can’t say that. You have never even met him.’
‘Let’s hope I don’t, for his sake,’ Nick said grimly. ‘Cory, the guy was on the make and he strung you along. There are men like that out there but we’re not all the same. I have never lied to you and I never will.’
No, but that wouldn’t make it any the easier when he got tired of her. He could have any woman he liked. Why on earth would he stay with her?
‘You think if you let yourself love me I’ll treat you like William, right?’
She could tell he was struggling to remain calm and she couldn’t blame him. She wished he would let go of her. She couldn’t think clearly when he was holding her. She shook her head. ‘I’ve told you, I don’t think you’re like him. Maybe at first, but not when I got to know you.’
‘So where is the problem, for crying out loud?’
Me. I’m the problem.
The sudden arrival of Rufus shooting through to the conservatory followed by Joan calling out she was back brought the very unsatisfactory conversation to a close. Cory got her wish because Nick let go of her, bending down to stroke the dog as Joan came bustling through.
‘Sorry we’ve been a while but Rufus is so popular it’s always difficult to get away,’ she said, for all the world as though she’d been accompanying a sought after celebrity to some event or other. ‘Now, coffee, yes? And you must try one of my demerara meringues, Nick. They don’t have the cloying sweetness of meringues made with white sugar. Have you ever tried your hand at meringues?’
Cory made an excuse and left them to it. When she reached her aunt’s neat pink and cream bathroom she locked the door behind her and sank down on the edge of the bath. She was trembling and she didn’t seem able to stop. He had said he loved her but he’d probably said the same thing to the women he’d had long-term relationships with in the past. Love didn’t necessarily equate to staying together or fidelity or dependability or any of those sorts of things.
She ran her hand through her hair before groaning softly. Was she being too possessive and clingy here? Thousands of women the whole world over were quite happy to give themselves body and soul to a man without the promise that it was going to work out, or even that they would stay together for more than a short while. If things went wrong they picked themselves up, brushed themselves down and got on with their lives. She worked with women like that and there had been plenty among her friends at university. Strong, determined, independent women.
She got up and walked over to her aunt’s basin, washing her hands with a rather strong-smelling lavender soap before drying them on a rose-embroidered towel, her head buzzing.
When William left her life so unpleasantly she hadn’t crumbled. She might have been crying inside but she’d gritted her teeth and presented the normal capable Cory to the rest of the world. Only her aunt had understood what his betrayal had meant to her. Of course she hadn’t given herself wholeheartedly to William, not in mind or body. But if she stayed with Nick she would do that.
She raised her head and stared at the wide-eyed girl in the mirror. Because she loved him, she thought sickly, facing it for the first time. She had been lying to him downstairs. She knew what love was since Nick had come into her life, and the affection she had felt for William before he had hurt her was a pale reflection in comparison. Her pride and fragile self-esteem had been hurt when William had treated her so badly but her heart hadn’t been broken.
She sank down on the edge of the bath again, staring at the rose tiles without really seeing them. Right, she thought grimly. Where did she go from here? If she went into this for real it would involve staying at his place and him at hers, that much had been clear from what he’d said downstairs about not wanting her in little snatched moments or the odd evening. It might even involve them living together. How would she survive if—when—it finished?
A coldness invaded her limbs in spite of the warm August night and she shivered. What sort of heartache would she be letting herself in for? How would she pick up the pieces and carry on? True, she’d have her work. Somehow that was supremely unimportant. And her friends and Aunt Joan. Not even in the equation.
She squeezed her lids tightly shut and tried to think. She was afraid to care and afraid to be cared for. That was what it boiled down to. Nick would expect that she would trust him and she would, in so far as other women were concerned. He wouldn’t play the field when he was with her; he wasn’t like that. But if he fell out of love with her and in love with one of the glamorous, exciting businesswomen he met every day…
She took a long shaky breath. And she couldn’t expect anything else to happen long-term, not realistically. He had made it clear when they first met that his work was his life and women fitted into the niche he’d allowed for them. He needed his independence, he’d said, had found he liked autonomy, no complications in his love life.
An increase of pressure from somewhere inside her chest made it difficult for her to breathe. She had known from the beginning that she should have sent him packing after that first weekend. But she had miscalculated. She had thought it was Nick who was dangerous but in fact it had been her own feelings that were the real hazard. From the first time she’d met him she had known she could love him. But she had been too cowardly to face that then and do something about it. And now everything was a million times worse.
She couldn’t be what he wanted. She rose and began pacing back and forth. And that was it in a nutshell really. She wouldn’t be able to let him go gracefully when the time came; in fact, she wouldn’t be able to let him go at all. And then it would all turn horribly messy and nasty. It happened, all the time.
But not to her. She stopped the pacing and became very still. Because she wouldn’t let it. This was the point where she had to take control. OK, it was hellishly late in the day but better late than never. She smiled bleakly.
Nick and her aunt were sitting eating demerara
