‘No.’ He was severe. Hard. ‘You stay. Charles will check on you until I return. After that we’ll figure out some arrangement to make sure you’re okay. You and the baby.’

  Something about the way he said the last made her shiver, his meaning hitting home—some arrangement where they were no longer living together.

  She nodded. His jaw pulsed, his eyes raked over her face, the burn of so much residing there, and then he was gone, quicker than she could blink...a chilling coldness left in his wake.

  You should be happy, grateful, relieved.

  So why did it feel as though the bottom had fallen out of her world...?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ‘LUST HAS AN expiry date, Brendan.’

  Love doesn’t, Hannah.

  The response revolved around his mind as though he’d said it aloud, his eyes locked on the blood seeping from her face as she’d gazed at him in horror.

  Only he hadn’t said it aloud. It was his dream torturing him, his mind in that weird space between awake and asleep. Reality mixing with fantasy—though no fantasy that he’d ever want to live through.

  ‘Brendan, you up? Brendan!’

  An incessant knocking accompanied the shout and he shot forward, an almighty pain behind his eyes as he gripped his head.

  ‘Brendan!’

  Where the hell was he? He planted his feet on the ground, hunched forward and scanned the room... The wall lined with books, the desk complete with banker’s lamp and empty whisky bottle, two tumblers beside it, the Chesterfield armchair and the sofa beneath him. The tartan throw over his thighs. Simon’s.

  ‘Brendan?’ The door opened and the man himself peered around it.

  ‘What time is it?’ His mouth felt woolly, his voice thick.

  ‘Just gone six. I wouldn’t have woken you but it’s Joel. He says it’s urgent.’

  ‘Joel?’ He grimaced as adrenaline shot through him. There was only one reason Joel would ring so early... ‘Why didn’t he just call me?’

  Simon entered the room and handed him his phone. It had to be one in the morning in Mustique and his gut rolled as he recalled the last message he’d sent... Had that triggered the call, or had something happened? Something bad?

  ‘He did, your phone isn’t connecting.’

  Brendan cursed, tugged his jacket off the back of the sofa and pulled out his phone—dead.

  ‘Here, give it to me. I’ll get it on charge...you ring Joel back.’

  ‘Any idea what’s wrong?’

  ‘Not a clue, but I suggest you ring him and then hit the shower. You look rough.’

  He was about to tell Simon he had a nerve telling him that, but the guy was far too fresh in the face. ‘And you look like you didn’t share the best part of a whisky bottle with me...’

  ‘The benefit of youth, my friend.’

  ‘Two years younger, Simon. Two years.’ He snatched the phone from him, his mind immediately shifting gears as the feeling of dread spread through his system.

  He dialled Joel and the ringing tone cut off abruptly with his friend’s voice. ‘Simon?’

  ‘It’s me, Brendan.’

  ‘Thank God...’

  * * *

  Knees to her chest, Hannah stared at her phone on the sofa before her, willing it to ring.

  The sun was on the rise, casting squares of amber across the room, its warmth doing nothing to ease the empty chill inside. She’d given up on sleep hours ago, taking to the living area in the hope that Brendan would return. He hadn’t.

  She hadn’t heard from Charles either, which begged the question, just how did he intend the man to check on her?

  Were there cameras in this room? Was the man watching her right now as she fretted? Sleep-starved and irrational with it. Because the more she thought on it, the more she realised she was falling in love with Brendan, was in love with Brendan, and it was everything she’d fought so hard against her entire life.

  Her fingers trembled as she smoothed her hair back into its tie, a nervous move she had repeated over and over as she waited and waited. Anything to stop herself from sending him another message and hounding him. One was enough. One to ask when he would be back and she’d got nothing.

  She tapped the screen to check the time. Almost seven. It was too early to ring him, but—

  The sound of the lift arriving sent her heart into a spin and she twisted in her seat. The sight of him stepping into the room sent a woosh of delight charging through her. Delight and trepidation, an unsettling mix.

  ‘Brendan...’ She shoved herself to standing, strode forward and then stopped herself. He didn’t want her near him, that much was obvious. He couldn’t even look at her. As for him, he looked like hell.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging the sweater she was wearing—his sweater—but at least he was back, at least they could now talk. ‘I’m so glad you’re—’

  ‘My car is waiting to take us to your place. You need to pack a suitcase...’

  Her heart slowed, the warm elation she’d felt at his return dimming with every word. He wanted her out already, there was to be no conversation, no nothing.

  Can you blame him?

  ‘Okay...if that’s what you want, I’ll get it done now.’

  She headed for the bedroom. ‘No, Hannah, that’s not what I mean. You need to...’ He stopped, his eyes taking her in for the first time. ‘Is that my sweater?’

  She looked down at the soft navy fabric, heat creeping into her cheeks. How could she tell him she’d found comfort in his scent, in its familiar warmth, while he’d been gone?

  ‘I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind. I just... I was cold.’

  His eyes lifted to hers and she lost the ability to breathe, the fire in his depths branding her so completely. She was his. She felt it to her core, her body drifting towards him, and then the shutter fell. His expression closing off. Whatever she’d spied in his gaze was gone and she felt exposed, wounded, raw.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated, moving again before the ache inside immobilised her completely. ‘I’ll make sure I put it back where I found it.’

  ‘You don’t understand, Hannah. We’re leaving for Mustique today.’

  She froze. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘You need to get dressed and then I’m taking you to your place so you can pack. You’ll need cooler clothing.’

  ‘That’s not what I asked.’ She turned back to him, her eyes narrowing on the dark shadows beneath his eyes, the deep grooves either side of his mouth, the thickening five-o’clock shadow and his hair in disarray. She’d assumed she was the cause, but now... ‘We weren’t due to leave until next weekend, so I repeat, what’s happened?’

  ‘I’ll explain on the way.’

  ‘Brendan? Is Jessie okay?’

  ‘We need to move, Hannah. If we don’t get going soon, we won’t make it before nightfall, and we’ll be stuck on Saint Vincent until morning.’

  ‘Why the sudden urgency?’

  He raked a hand through his hair, blew out a breath.

  ‘Brendan—’ her heart was pulsing wildly in her throat ‘—if you don’t want me to stress out even further, you need to tell me.’

  ‘Joel called.’

  She pressed a hand to her throat as last night’s dinner threatened to return. ‘And?’

  ‘It’s as you feared.’

  She shook her head, her words tripping over themselves. ‘She’s in love with him?’

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. ‘And Joel? I take it the feeling’s not mutual.’

  Again, nothing.

  ‘Why did he ring you, then? To tell you in person that he’d broken his promise, to beg you to forgive him for messing up, for screwing around with my sister when you explicitly told him not to?’

  She was burning up, bile singeing the back of her throat.

  ‘Take a breath, Hannah. This isn’t good for you or—’

  ‘Don’t you presume to tell me what’s good for me, Brendan.’ She strode forward, poked his chest, her anger overflowing with her sadness, her worry. ‘You’re the one who took off last night and left me stirring, unable to sleep, unable to quit worrying, unable to—to—God, you men are all the same and us women are fools to let you get the better of us.’

  He didn’t even flinch, just took her battery of abuse as though he deserved it when, in actual fact, he’d tried to do right by her, by their baby, he’d tried to marry her, for Pete’s sake, and here she was taking it all out on him.

  But this was Jessie. Her little sister, Jessie. And if anyone was to blame, it was her for sending Jessie there.

  ‘Please, go get ready, Han. I want to be gone in five.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘No. I need to speak to her...’

  She was already lifting her phone and he stopped her, his hand firm on hers.

  ‘I know you do, but it’s the middle of the night out there and you don’t want to do this over the phone. The sooner we get airborne, the sooner you can see her and put your mind at rest.’

  ‘What about work?’

  ‘I’ve taken care of it.’

  She wanted to argue with him, but how could she when she knew he was right? Knew he was right and knew that he was doing this for her. For her and for Jessie.

  No matter that Joel was his friend, that she’d outright rejected his offer of marriage and pushed him away, he was still trying to help her. And she didn’t deserve it. No more than she deserved him, the one man she had come to love against the odds but didn’t trust herself to keep.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  SIXTEEN HOURS LATER, they were being thrown around in the back of the Jeep. But he couldn’t blame Paolo, his driver, or the uneven terrain for the sickness in his gut.

  No, that was all down to the woman beside him and the guy in the passenger seat.

  Joel was a hot mess. Beneath his tan, he looked pale, the sheen of sweat across his brow persisting in spite of the air conditioning. All because Jessie had told him that she loved him, that she wanted a future with him...and he’d choked.

  Choked and called Brendan—desperate, guilt-stricken, a mess—and Brendan had done the one thing he knew he could do, he’d brought their flight forward. Seeing to it that Jessie would have Hannah in the aftermath of their breakup and Joel would be free to leave. Though being free to leave and being free of his own feelings for the woman were not one and the same and Brendan wondered whether his friend would realise it any time soon.

  As for Hannah, if Joel was pale, she was positively ghostlike. Her subtle make-up doing nothing to hide her pallor or the shadows that spread like bruises beneath her eyes. Several times he’d caught her pressing her fingers to her mouth, a thin layer of perspiration breaking across her upper lip, her simple slip of a dress concealing any show of her pregnancy. She looked too thin, too drawn, too broken, and it was tearing him apart.

  But Hannah, being Hannah, had held her head high when he’d introduced her to Joel, a brusque nod had been his lot. No verbal abuse, just quiet disregard.

  Dammit, Joel.

  Why couldn’t his friend have toed the line for once in his life?

  No, that wasn’t fair. The man had spent his life toeing the line up until the day he’d lost his wife. These last two years had been payback to a life that had ruined him. And here they were at loggerheads because he’d deigned to hurt the one woman he’d been told to leave well alone.

  If only things could be different. If only Joel weren’t so messed up. If only Jessie had been the one to help him...to change him.

  If only Brendan could be the one to change Hannah, too, but then life was never so simple or fair.

  Fifteen years of loving Hannah from afar should have taught him that.

  He took her in now, sitting as far away from him as she could manage, legs and body angled towards the window, eyes fixated on the back of Joel’s head as if she could murder him with her mind.

  Would it be like this if he hadn’t done the unthinkable and proposed? Pushing for what he wanted. What he saw to be the perfect solution—to her worries and his own deepest desire.

  He might as well have declared his undying love for her and been done with it because the way she looked at him now, the way she avoided his eye and the slightest touch, it couldn’t be any worse.

  The Jeep jerked to a stop outside the villa and Joel was already moving, throwing off his seat belt without a backward glance. ‘Just give me a minute.’

  It wasn’t a request. He raced off, slamming the door shut behind him, and Hannah looked to Brendan.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Even as he asked it the sheen over her skin thickened and she licked her lips. He didn’t need an answer.

  ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’

  ‘I’ll get you inside.’

  He started to move. Joel would have to have his time later, but as he thought it he saw Jessie emerge from the undergrowth and Hannah put her hand on his arm. ‘Hang on.’

  Hannah’s voice was strained but her gaze was sharp. Whatever she saw in Jessie’s face gave her reason to pause and as he took in the redhead’s face, so similar to and yet so different from her sister’s, he could see why. The woman’s smile was so full of love it was impossible not to pause, to take it in, and as she and Joel came together the warmth of their connection radiated out.

  The man was a fool, Brendan decided, an absolute fool to have that and turn it away.

  ‘Shall I get the cases out, boss?’ Paolo caught his attention and he nodded, his gaze returning to the couple now talking as Paolo stepped out.

  It wasn’t going well. Jessie’s smile morphed into confusion as Joel hurried forward, took her hand. He started to pull her away and Hannah tensed beside Brendan. ‘Where does he think he’s going?’

  She pressed the back of her hand to her lips, the exclamation taking it out of her.

  ‘We’re getting you inside.’ He threw open his door, his only thought to ease Hannah’s concern and get her to the bathroom. ‘That’s enough, Joel!’

  ‘I asked you to wait, Brendan!’ his panicked friend threw back at him, his blue eyes wide as Jessie spun to face him too.

  ‘Brendan?’ she whispered, her confused frown speaking volumes.

  ‘We’ve waited too long as it is...’ He should have taken Hannah straight inside, told Joel to hang back, not the other way around. ‘Hannah needs to use the bathroom.’

  ‘Hannah?’ Jessie’s eyes snapped to the car as her sister stepped out beside him. ‘Sis! What on earth are you—?’ She was upon them in a second, her arms wrapped around her sister, squeezing tight. For a horrible second, he thought Hannah might lose her dinner right there.

  ‘Are you finally taking a holiday and crashing mine?’

  Hannah gave a laugh, but it was as high and as awkward as her sister sounded, her arms around Jessie stiff as she leaned back to scan her face. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘How many times do I have to tell you, I’m fine?’ Jessie pressed her further away to eye her top to toe and Brendan could see the concern in her gaze before she even said, ‘You don’t look so hot though.’

  Hannah’s eyes flitted to his and he felt his heart pulse. ‘I really do need the toilet.’

  ‘Sure, sure,’ Jessie rushed out over any response he could have given, ‘I’ll show you the—’

  ‘Brendan can show her,’ Joel interjected. ‘We need to talk.’

  Joel met his eye, silently pleading for the time alone to explain. To try and ease some of the damage he had done... There was something else there, too. Something not so very different from what he saw in Jessie’s gaze. Did his friend really think his heart had remained untouched? Was he really that blind to it?

  He gave him a nod, his hand lowering to Hannah’s back as he gently ushered her towards the house, wishing he could take away her sickness, wishing he could wake Joel up to what he could have if he opened up his heart again...

  ‘Mr Hart, Miss Rose, I trust you had a good journey.’ His butler, Anton, appeared as they entered, behind him his housekeeper, June, carried a tray with fresh juice, but he could feel the rising tension in Hannah’s spine. ‘Would you care for some refreshment?’

  Hannah gave them a weak smile.

  ‘Just give us a moment, Anton.’ He led her towards the nearest bathroom, calling back to Anton. ‘If you can ensure Joel’s bags are loaded into the Jeep, that would be great.’

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Hannah murmured softly.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For bringing me.’

  She shouldn’t be thanking him. This whole mess was his fault. It had happened on his watch, under his roof...

  She closed the door on him and he stood there, helpless and worthless, wanting to lay his heart on the line but knowing he couldn’t. To tell Hannah he loved her only to have her reject that love...there could be no coming back from that. So he kept his lips sealed and concentrated on the one thing he could fix—Jessie and Joel.

  Whether that meant kicking his friend’s arse to make him realise what was right in front of his nose or seeing him gone so that Jessie could heal, he would play his part.

  Protector to Hannah and those she loved, even if he could never be included in that precious circle.

  * * *

  Hannah splashed cool water on her face, dabbed it dry and stared at herself in the mirror. Only, it didn’t feel as if she were looking at herself.

  The drawn expression, the shadowed eyes, the hair that had started to escape its tie and the gentle swell to her tummy beneath her summer dress. Indiscernible if you didn’t know it existed but everything to her.

  Her biggest secret and one that she had kept from Jessie for far too long. That and her broken marriage, which now felt like a distant memory not a huge failing in her present.

 

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