Doris gave him a careful look. It was almost as if she were looking directly into his brain and not liking what she was seeing. ‘Okay, then,’ she said stiffly.
He left. He had to. He had too much else to think about.
If he didn’t get a grip he would lose Lara completely. Someone else would get her—with her pink teddy-bear suit, quirky sense of humour and giant blue eyes. Someone else would get to wake up next to her every morning. Someone else would get to hear about how her day had gone and get to feel the touch of those lips against theirs.
What could he offer?
Lara wasn’t interested in the money or the celebrity. Lara was interested in him.
Probably more than he was interested in himself.
What did he really have to offer her?
Could he say those all-important words and tell her that he loved her? Because he couldn’t last night. And he couldn’t this morning.
They’d stuck in his throat.
And Lara had challenged him. She’d asked him again what this was.
She wasn’t stupid. She was trying to sort out things for herself, as much as for him. She’d been hurt already. Didn’t need to be hurt again.
He had to leave.
The thought came like a blinding flash. If he couldn’t find the words then he wasn’t worthy of the relationship.
He wasn’t worthy of Lara.
Caleb had told him grow up. It was finally time.
This wasn’t the fairy-tale dream cruise he’d thought it would be. It had exposed him to feelings and emotions he hadn’t expected.
He’d never connected to another person the way he’d connected to Lara.
And the truth was—he just didn’t know what came next.
And now he’d hurt her.
The same look that he’d seen in her eyes when she’d spoken about Josh was now there when she looked at him.
The irony of her thinking she’d got away from loser boyfriends made him cringe.
Turned out Reuben Tyler was the biggest loser of them all.
All relationships weren’t like the one his parents had. He was old enough, and had seen enough of life, to know it. So why did he let it still hold him back? He pushed the thought from his mind.
His feet started walking. He could leave. He could leave right now and let her enjoy the last few days of the cruise without him.
That was for the best.
That was exactly what he should do.
His legs powered him towards the suite. His brain was spinning. How would be explain he was leaving?
The door of the suite was ajar. He pushed it wide open.
The whole room was in disarray. The drawers were open and coat hangers were on the floor and on the bed.
He looked in the corner for her case. Gone.
He opened the door to the bathroom. All her items that had littered the little shelf below the mirror and driven him crazy had vanished.
There wasn’t a single trace of her left.
Lara Callaway had bested him once again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘I’VE HAD IT with you. I’ve had it with you and your bad attitude. You’ve let your team down, let the fans down and you’ve let your family down. Finally, you need to worry about the fact you’ve let me down. I’m done with you. I won’t represent someone who thinks it’s okay to treat other people with such disrespect. The club has sacked you and I won’t be finding you another. This is finished. Find another agent.’
Reuben put down the phone. The rage was bubbling just beneath the surface but he’d managed to contain it. Coming home to the story that his client had punched a toilet attendant, groped some woman in the street and reneged on a visit to a children’s hospital because he ‘couldn’t be bothered’ had been enough for him.
And it was like a huge weight off his shoulders.
His secretary motioned to him through the glass. He walked outside and she handed him a brown paper package. ‘Special delivery arrived for you. Want me to open it?’
Something squeezed around his heart.
He knew exactly what this would be.
‘No. It’s fine. Thank you.’
He walked back through to his office in The Shard and stared down at the city below.
He couldn’t explain how it had been since he’d got back. He’d just felt...empty.
And he knew exactly why.
A figure on the street caught his eye. A woman with blonde hair, jeans and brown leather boots. It couldn’t be, could it? She was striding down the street with confidence, nodding to people as they passed.
She looked up as she reached the end of the street and broke into a run. A kind of strangled sound came out of his throat as she leapt up into the arms of a tall guy, putting her legs around him and clinging around his neck.
It wasn’t Lara. Of course it wasn’t Lara.
But it could be.
The wave of emotions that swept over him took what little breath he had left.
Caleb had been so right. It was time to put the past behind him. It was time to start living again.
He’d been a fool. He should have just grabbed hold of her with both hands and told her he wanted to give this a shot. He should have told her that from that first look she’d wound her way into his heart and his brain.
He should have told her he could spend the rest of his life watching her sleep, with her blonde hair splayed around her and the sun kissing her skin.
He should have told her that he loved her.
He w
atched the couple beneath him start to kiss passionately and his heart twisted in his chest.
That’s what he was missing out on.
That’s what he could have.
He picked up the parcel from his desk. The time to tell her that he loved her was now.
He could only hope and pray that she’d listen.
* * *
Lara looked out of the window onto the London street. It had been raining solidly since she’d got back. Her phone had been permanently switched off and all the messages on the house phone had naturally been for Addison and Caleb.
Her mood felt as wet as the weather.
Addison had left her a message, saying they’d be back a few days later. There had been no explanation and Lara was a little curious. It wasn’t like she’d anything else to do to fill her time.
She opened another window on the internet. Last night she’d listed all her fancy clothes to resell. When on earth would she get the chance to wear them again? But her finger had hovered over the ‘sell’ button for too long. She’d just been unable to press it. She’d never owned clothes like that before and likely wouldn’t again. She might keep them for an extra few weeks.
All the other windows opened were wishful thinking. On a whim last night she’d pulled up the prospectus for the university she’d wanted to attend. The entrance requirements hadn’t changed. She could still make the cut.
Then she pulled up another—and another. Degrees had changed in the last few years. She could study English and French, English and German, English and History, English and Philosophy, even English and Creative Writing or English and Media. The list was endless. She’d spent a long time considering the English and Egyptology degree. How interesting would that be?
All she had to do was fill out the form. It was silly. As a mature student her application would be looked at differently. She didn’t need to start at the beginning of the academic year. She would be able to start midterm if she wanted.
Her fingers hovered above the keyboard again. The key question was—did she?
She had confidence now. Confidence that Reuben had helped instil in her. She bit her lip and selected the university she’d always dreamed of and the degree that looked best. After half an hour she pressed ‘send’. Done.