gave him a small nod, then collected Cathleen’s clothes off the bed and turned to the bathroom. “I won’t be too long.”
“Take as long as you need,” he said, and left the room. In fact, take longer, he added silently. Because it sure as hell was going to take him a while to get his raging hormones under control.
Shanal closed the bathroom door behind her and stripped away her wedding dress. Without caring about any possible damage to the delicate and expensive fabric, she let it drop to the floor. She shuddered. Right now she felt so cold, deep down into her bones.
She quickly tugged on the jeans and sucked her tummy in a little to do up the zipper. Cathleen’s curves were just a bit more subtle than her own and it showed in the cut of jeans that she favored. Too bad, Shanal thought as she slid her arms into the sleeves of the T-shirt and pulled it over her head. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. That final thought held a painful irony she didn’t want to think about right now. She had enough on her plate.
There was still an air of unreality about what she’d just done. In fact, she could barely believe she’d done it. Run away from everything—everyone.
Burton would be angry, she knew. Justifiably so? Very likely. They’d had an agreement, and if she’d learned anything about Burton Rogers it was that he couldn’t bear to be thwarted, not to mention being humiliated in front of a cathedral packed with his peers. She certainly wasn’t in any headspace to face that right now.
It wasn’t that she was worried he’d get physical with his rage—no, that would be beneath his dignity—but how did you explain to a man, especially one who on the surface was every woman’s dream, that you no longer wanted to be his bride? All she knew was that she couldn’t go through with it. She needed space—time to think, to form a strategy to overcome this situation she’d put herself into.
Another shudder ran through her and she felt her chest constrict anew. Her breathing became difficult again and she closed her eyes and focused on one breath in, one long breath out. When the tightness began to ease, she reached for the logical side of her brain. The one that had weighed the options of Burton’s offer of marriage so carefully and had accepted it, knowing she didn’t love him. The tension returned twofold. No, she couldn’t even think about it. She felt so close to the breaking point. The two people who now depended upon her most, her mum and her dad, would be beside themselves with worry. For her. For themselves. Her father’s medical expenses aside, in a few months they would be struggling to meet paying their utilities, let alone affording the basics like food.
Her decision to run away from Burton would affect them all.
She’d find a way around it. She had to. The alternative simply wasn’t an option. And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all—maybe it was just her panicked mind that was making it seem worse than she thought. Right now, though, she needed distance. Distance and a healthy dose of perspective. Raif had offered her both unquestioningly.
But what was his angle? Was he doing this because he wanted to help her—or just because he wanted to hurt Burton? He’d come to see her at her parents’ home three months ago after her engagement had been announced. He hadn’t wasted time on niceties such as saying congratulations. He’d come straight to the point and said he was there to talk her out of marrying Burton. She’d told him the wedding would go ahead no matter what he had to say, and had very firmly asked him to leave, without hearing him out. She knew there was bad blood between him and Burton; she’d gotten the sense from what Burton had said that it had been some idiotic male rivalry over a woman. Whatever had happened, Raif had clearly carried a grudge, and she’d assumed that was what had motivated him to see her.
A deep and painful throbbing started behind her eyes. It was all too much to think about. Right now she felt as if she could simply crawl under the covers of the bed in the room next door and go to sleep for a week. Instead, she forced herself to move and put on a pair of socks and the shoes Cathleen had left behind.
When Shanal looked up into the mirror, her reflection was that of a stranger. She never usually wore this much makeup—hadn’t really wanted to, even today—but Burton had insisted she allow him to send along a makeup artist during her preparations on the morning of their special day. She’d acquiesced, thinking it didn’t matter, but as each layer of cosmetics had been applied she’d felt as if her true self was being hidden. As if pieces of her were being pushed further and further into obscurity.
Was that what it would be like being married to Burton? His decisions overriding hers and suffocating everything that defined her until her very identity was buried beneath what he wanted? She bent over the bathroom basin and scrubbed her face clean, desperate to grab that part of herself back again.
A knock at the door turned her mind willingly away from questions she couldn’t face and didn’t want to answer.
“You okay?” she heard Raif ask through the door.
No, she was not okay. Not right now. But she had to hope she would be. “You can come in,” she answered.
He did, and she noticed he’d changed into a pair of well-worn jeans that hugged his hips, and a navy sweater. The fisherman’s rib knit clung to his broad shoulders, making him look impossibly strong and masculine. As if he could take on the weight of the world and barely notice the strain. She certainly hoped that was the case, because at this moment she felt even closer to fracturing apart than she had half an hour ago.
“We should hit the road. I’ve loaded up a bag in the Jeep with some things for you. Clothes of mine you can borrow—y’know, track pants, sweaters and a thicker jacket than that one of Cathleen’s. They’ll be far too big for you, but at least you’ll be warm. We can stop somewhere and get you some underwear, toiletries and anything else you think of, on the way through.”
She nodded. It was such a relief to simply hand over her care to him. To have someone else do all the thinking for a change. Shanal followed him out of the room, not even sparing a glance for the mound of tulle that still lay on the bathroom floor.
“I need to call my parents,” she said as they reached the door to the garage. “To let them know I’m okay.”
“Already done,” Raif answered smoothly. “They send their love.”
Did they? Or did they send their recriminations, their fears for the future now that she’d dashed their only hope for a secure retirement? The financial settlement Burton had agreed to pay her on their marriage would never happen now—in fact, she probably wouldn’t even have a job after this.
“Are...are they all right?”
“They’re worried about you, but I assured them you’re being cared for.”
She swallowed a sob and murmured a response, but something in her tone made Raif whip his head around and study her carefully.
“It’ll be okay, Shanal. You did the right thing.”
But had she? Or had she simply destroyed not only her parents’ future, but her own, as well? Raif opened the passenger door of the Jeep for her to climb up before he walked around to the other side.
“Mac is stocking the houseboat with everything you’ll need for a week, at least,” Raif said as he settled in the driver’s seat and hit the remote for the garage door.
“I’ll
