She took a deep steadying breath and regained control, picking up her glass with a hand that shook slightly and finishing her drink.
One thing was for sure, if she wanted him to make love to her, the first move would have to come from her after all she’d said in the last twenty-four hours. She cast a hunted glance about the room, taking in the easy, smiling faces of the others before placing the glass carefully on the table. She didn’t know what to do. For the first time in her adult life, she really didn’t know what to do.
Rachel heard the mobile phone begin to ring but didn’t realise it was Zac’s until he fished it out of his jeans pocket. With the others chattering and laughing, she couldn’t make out what was being said, but she saw his face and that was enough. When he stood up suddenly, she rose too, following him out of the room into the hall where it was quieter and listening in growing consternation as he took the call. She’d gathered the crux of it by the time the call finished and he met her concerned gaze.
‘Your grandfather?’ she asked softly.
He nodded. ‘Another heart attack, but according to my father there’s no chance he’ll recover from this one. He’s comfortable but my father’s made it clear I need to get home as soon as possible if I want to say goodbye.’
‘I’m so sorry, Zac.’ She stared at him, horrified.
‘So am I.’ He shook his head. ‘He’s an awkward old cuss but larger than life, you know? And with a wicked sense of humour. The two of us have always got on all right. I’ll miss him.’ For a moment his face was open, vulnerable, in a way she hadn’t seen before, but almost instantly the mask was back in place. ‘I need to get to the hotel and pick up my things and find out when the first available flight is. Do you mind if we cut the weekend short?’
Horribly. ‘No, of course not. But the weather…’
‘With the roads having been cleared to some extent, I can make it back once I’ve retrieved the car, but if you’d rather stay here till tomorrow I can arrange for a car to pick you up.’
And miss precious moments with him that possibly would have to last her a lifetime? ‘No, I’ll come with you if I may.’ He was already walking to the staircase and she followed him. Once in the room he flung his things together and left immediately, telling her he’d settle the bill with the landlady and then go and see if he could drive the car. If not, he’d ring for a taxi, he added. He’d meet her downstairs.
Rachel stood numbly in the room after he’d left, the suddenness of it all having frozen her senses. After a minute or so she began to pack, her movements automatic. Deal with the practical, don’t think, she told herself grimly. He’s got enough on his plate without you going all weepy.
Once downstairs, she found all of the men walkers had gone with Zac to help with the car, leaving only Angel and the other women sitting by the fire. The landlady was all concern, making her a cup of hot chocolate and clucking about the dangers of travelling in such weather, although, she added, she’d do the same thing in the same situation. ‘He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t try, would he?’ she said soberly. ‘Family is family after all, and blood’s thicker than water.’
Rachel drank the chocolate and just nodded or shook her head now and again when required as the others talked. It was incredibly, shamefully selfish in the circumstances, but all she could think about was the two weeks they wouldn’t have together now. She was sorry about Zac’s grandfather, of course she was, but the thought of saying goodbye to him for good was killing her. Useless to tell herself you couldn’t fall in love with someone you’d only known for a few days. You could and she had. Completely and irrevocably.
The walkers returned, garrulous with triumph as they described how they’d worked as a team to get the car out of the ditch and back on the road, and then Zac walked in, tall, dark and sombre. When the goodbyes were being said, Rachel noticed Angel slip a piece of paper into Zac’s coat pocket—presumably with her name and telephone number written on it—but she was past caring about the blonde girl.
The whirling snow of the afternoon had given way to just the odd lazy snowflake blowing in the wind when they stepped outside. Zac took her arm as he led her over to the Aston Martin, which looked none the worse for its night in the ditch. He opened the passenger door and helped her into the car before walking round the bonnet and sliding into the driving seat.
Everyone had gathered on the doorstep of the inn to wave them off—for all the world like a couple going off on honeymoon after their wedding reception, Rachel tortured herself. And then the inn was behind them and they were on their way.
‘I’m sorry about this,’ Zac said as they picked up speed, but it was perfunctory. His mind was clearly already with his grandfather.
‘It’s fine.’ Rachel had to fight against the need to touch him. ‘I just hope things aren’t as bad as you think.’
‘He’s dying, Rachel.’ His voice was flat, expressionless, the same tone he’d used when he’d told her about his baby son. She wondered if he always went into close-down when he felt vulnerable, but said nothing more. If that helped him deal with this and cope with the stress involved in getting to his grandfather in time to say goodbye, so be it.
The journey wasn’t as hazardous as she’d expected. The main roads were relatively clear, although great banks of snow sat on either side of the highways and there were still abandoned cars scattered here and there in lay-bys or at the edge of verges or kerbs. The nearer she got to the flat, the more Rachel prayed she wouldn’t disgrace herself completely when Zac said goodbye. She’d always known it was going to happen. It had just transpired earlier than expected, that was all.
He’d driven silently for the most part, making the odd comment now and again but nothing that could be called conversation. She supposed there was nothing to say, after all. She was just a girl who’d featured briefly in his busy life for a few days. If he remembered her at all once he was back home, it would only be as the one he hadn’t slept with. Which was something.
When they reached the mews it was to find it still blocked with snow. Someone had cleared a path on the pavement just wide enough to walk down but that was all. Zac parked at the top of the road and turned off the engine. ‘I’ll walk you to the door. That path looks pretty icy to me.’
‘No need.’ She really didn’t want to say goodbye with Jennie and Susan liable to whisk open the door. ‘Unless you want to come in and say goodbye to Jennie?’ she added, as the thought hit. ‘She might be in.’
He shook his head. ‘I want to sort out a flight; I’ll ring Jennie later.’ Something of his urgency left him as it seemed to dawn on him they were parting. ‘I don’t want to leave you,’ he murmured softly, ‘not like this.’
‘It’s all right.’ She was amazed she sounded so normal when she was screaming inside. ‘You were going to have to go sooner or later anyway, we both knew that.’
‘I’ll miss you.’ He leant over and kissed her mouth. It had clearly been intended as a quick caress but the moment their lips touched, last night’s desire flared again, hot and strong. With a groan he pulled her closer, the kiss deepening as he held her against him, his fingers moving to tangle in the silk of her hair.
His mouth was heated, demanding, and she met him kiss for kiss, half-mad with the knowledge she was losing him. No one had ever made her feel like Zac did and she knew no one would ever again, but there was no chance of a future for them. Even if he had stayed the two weeks—even if he’d stayed two months and she’d shared his bed—one day she would be exactly where she was now, saying goodbye. To give him his due, he had been absolutely straight
with her. She had no one to blame for the way she was feeling but herself.
A car passing sent a flash of light into the interior of the Aston Martin and it was enough to cause Zac to freeze for a moment and then lift his head. The golden eyes held hers for a second, the pupils dilated, before he slid back fully into his seat. He drew in a deep breath, raking a hand through his hair. ‘It’s been years since I necked in a car with a girl,’ he said wryly, his mouth twisting in a self-deprecating quirk. ‘But like I’ve said before, you’re addictive.’
Not addictive enough. Rachel attempted a smile and hoped it came off. ‘I need my case from the boot and then you’d better see about booking that flight,’ she murmured, to make it easy for him. ‘I hope the weather doesn’t delay things too much.’