the sort of homey touches that should have warned him that she was settling into it, just as she was settling into him.
Pictures on the mantelpiece. Scraps of paper with handy recipe titbits pinned to the stainless steel American-style fridge-freezer with jokey magnets. Lots of flowers because, she told him, it had always been her grandmother’s habit to fill the rooms with things from outside. Good Feng Shui, apparently. He had laughed and drily told her that he had lived quite happily without such touches in his own place. She had suggested some kind of water feature; he had firmly squashed that idea, but he suspected that its absence was only short lived.
He had to wait for over an hour and a half before he heard the turn of the key in the door and, in that hour and a half, his mind had been everywhere but on work. For once, the joys of deal making had failed in its duty to distract him.
‘Where’ve you been?’ was his opening question as she entered the sitting room and Milly started, then smiled as her breathing returned to normal.
He had been on her mind all evening. So she had told him, just blurted it out; she hadn’t been able to help herself. She had fallen in love with him and it had been just too big a deal for her to keep inside. She didn’t even know when the process had begun. Maybe the seeds had been sown in Spain, when she had glimpsed sides of him that were so curiously appealing. Certainly, she now knew that her fate had been sealed by the time they had fallen into bed together that first time and she had sunk deeper and deeper the longer she had spent with him.
It was crazy, she had known that, but love was crazy, wasn’t it? It wasn’t something you could explain on a sheet of A4 paper, like a maths problem with a solution. If love made sense, she would never have fallen in love with Lucas. But she had. And, the minute she had told him, she had wished that she could yank the words back into her mouth and swallow them down. He had gone perfectly still, hadn’t replied, and when he had spoken it was as though he had chosen to ignore what she had said.
And his eyes were grave now as she tentatively walked towards him.
‘We need to talk.’
‘Why?’ Milly smiled quickly. ‘You always tell me that there are far better things to do than talk.’
‘But, first, where have you been?’ That question hadn’t been on the agenda.
‘I told you, Lucas, that I was going out with some people from work.’
Lucas scowled and tried not to let his imagination run away with thoughts of who those people were. She looked bloody amazing. Just the right side of tousled, her red hair trailing down her back, her tight jeans showing off every succulent inch of her body, as did the clingy long-sleeved top. The fact that she was wearing a pair of flat sneakers did nothing to detract from the look and he angrily felt himself harden in automatic response.
He dismissively waved aside her explanation just in case she thought that a detour down that road was going to happen.
‘What’s going on, Lucas?’ As if she didn’t know. One sign of love and he was getting ready to bolt. Things were just fine as long as they were having sex. The charade was well in place then! But she had crossed a line; she had forgotten what he had told her about not getting involved and had committed the mortal sin of not only disobeying the edict, but of telling him that she had.
‘I think you know. And sit down; stop hovering.’
‘I’m not sorry I said what I said,’ Milly imparted with just the sort of driven honesty that he felt had landed them in this mess. ‘And I never said that I was asking you to love me back.’ But she was.
‘This is no longer a working proposition.’ He was somehow angry and bewildered as to how it was that these seemed to be the hardest words ever to have left his mouth. He had known that it was going to end sooner or later. So why did each syllable feel like broken glass? Maybe it was because he hadn’t been the one to determine the timing of the end. He had been pushed into it because unforeseen circumstances had forced his hand. That made sense. He, of all men, did not like having his hand forced.
Milly opened her mouth but nothing emerged. She stared at him, wide-eyed, not daring to speak in case she started doing something really humiliating...like pleading and begging. Because, for the life of her, she couldn’t envisage life without him.
Stupid Robbie and her broken engagement had been a walk in the park in comparison. This was the real thing. This was love, and hearing him tell her that their relationship was over was like staring down the barrel of a gun and waiting for the trigger to be pulled.
Did she regret her honesty? No. Was she going to compound her horror and dismay by really pushing the boat out and bursting into tears? Absolutely not!
‘I get it,’ she told him quietly. ‘And I agree.’
A WEEK AND a half later, Milly could still scarcely believe that she had shown such fortitude in the face of the groundswell of misery that had been gathering at her feet.
So she had hung on to her pride, but at what cost? He was on her mind twenty-four-seven. She thought of him when she was working, when she was relaxing, and she dreamed of him when she was asleep.
He hadn’t argued with her when she had conceded defeat. He had wanted out and she hadn’t fought to bar him from the exit he was desperate to take. But he had been as quick to rush through the open door as she might have expected. He had continued the conversation: had told her in a cool, detached voice that he had never been in it for the long term; that he had warned her that commitment was off limits for him; that she should have known that after everything he had told her. His voice had been thick with accusation.
She had agreed with him.
‘Off the cards and especially with someone like me,’ she had obliged him by pointing out. All the time, her heart had been beating so hard and so fast that her breathing was short and raspy.
‘With anyone. I’m not interested in a long-term relationship and I should never have allowed myself to be swept into something with a woman who was vulnerable and in search of a life partner.’
‘I may have been vulnerable but I was not in search of a life partner! And I may have fallen in love with you, but has it occurred to you that I’m not as ditzy as you think I am? Has it occurred to you that I know we’re not suited?’
Of course it hadn’t occurred to him.
‘We’re different people from different backgrounds,’ she had persisted. ‘And that might not make a difference, but we’re also like oil and water. You’re darkness to my light. I’m not suspicious and distrusting of everyone; I like giving people chances. And I know you think I’m naive and stupid because I should have learned from Robbie and what happened but maybe, just maybe, that makes me a happier person than you, Lucas! You had one crappy experience and you’ve let it dictate the rest of your life! How does that make sense?’
‘So you’re prepared to carry on as we are with no expectations?’ he had mocked. ‘You’re fine if I tell you that I’m more than happy to take you to my bed but that’s all there is to it?’
Naturally she wouldn’t have been fine with that and her brief hesitation had given him all the answer he had needed.
But
