‘No,’ she interrupted. She knew what was coming and she didn’t want to hear it. ‘Not that “Buddy Code” bull you and Daniel had about not dating each other’s kid sister. Not this time. You won’t trust each other with your sisters, but you’ll trust each other with your life?’
‘Out there we’ll take a bullet for each other. It’s not a game, Thea. It’s war. Dating is the least of our problems. People die out there.’
His words were like a kick to the stomach. But she had lost too much to be fobbed off so easily.
‘You think I don’t know that soldiers die out there?’ She gasped. ‘You might have lost your best friend, Ben, but I lost my brother.’
He stared at her wordlessly for a moment, with a deathlike pallor. He gave a sharp nod, as though acknowledging her point for the first time.
‘Why don’t you ever talk about him?’ Thea asked suddenly.
He blanched, and it was like a door clicking open in her head. How was it that she’d observed Ben’s avoidance in the past but never really noticed it?
Had she missed something fundamental all this time?
‘Why don’t you ever talk about yourself?’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
He drew his lips into a thin line, refusing to be drawn by her. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him look shaken or uncertain. If she really thought about it she could only picture the determined, closed-off, emotionless Ben of the past. A picture of him pieced together after their date, their few weeks together between Ben telling her about Daniel’s death and the moment she and Ben married, and the many fragments of stories Daniel had told her about Ben.
Whatever had started this conversation, she felt the urge to push him that little bit harder before he had time to pull that impenetrable armour of his back into place. She might never get the chance again.
‘Ben?’
‘I liked you, Thea,’ he suddenly blurted out. ‘I liked you a lot. Maybe too much.’
‘What does “too much” mean?’ she asked instinctively, but Ben was already shaking his head, back-pedalling. Did it mean the Buddy Code was just an excuse—as she’d always wondered?
‘It doesn’t mean anything, ‘Ben growled. ‘Forget I said it. I just mean I thought you were incredible. But when I realised you were Dan’s sister I knew we weren’t a good match.’
‘You didn’t know anything about me.’ She frowned.
He opened his mouth, as though he had something more to say, and then the shuttered look she knew so well came down over his face.
‘You’re right—we didn’t know much about each other,’ he conceded. ‘But then I made a promise to take care of you, and that was what I intended to do.’
The moment was lost, Thea realised in despair. Whatever had made him drop his guard a few moments earlier, it was gone now.
‘So because of that promise you ended up with a wife you’d never wanted? A bad match? No wonder you abandoned me.’ Frustration tinged her words with bitterness.
‘Abandoned you?’
Ben whipped his head around to stare at her, shock clouding his handsome features. Then it was gone, and the mask of indifference was back, leaving Thea wondering if she’d imagined it.
‘When did I abandon you?’
‘The morning after our wedding. The morning after...’ She swallowed, suddenly nervous ‘...after that night.’
‘I didn’t abandon you. You told me to leave.’
‘Sorry? I did what?’ She was incredulous.
‘I did what you asked me to do.’ His voice was low, urgent. His eyes were raking desperately over her.
‘That’s ridiculous!’ she cried.
He would not wriggle out of this. But, God, it was humiliating. She’d offered herself up to him that night, convinced that there had been more to his marriage proposal, that deep down he still liked her even if he couldn’t admit it. Clearly her mistake, but if Ben had wanted to honour his promise to her brother surely he should have understood that she’d been grief-stricken and had made an enormous error of judgement? Not walked out on her, leaving her all alone.