His Final Bargain

The day before she was meant to leave, Leo had taken her to a fabulous restaurant they had eaten in previously. He had booked a private room and had dozens of red roses delivered. Candles lit the room from every corner. Champagne was waiting in a beribboned silver ice bucket. A romantic ballad was playing in the background…

Eliza hastily backtracked out of her time travel. She hated thinking about that night; how she had foolishly deluded herself into thinking he’d been simply giving her a grand send-off to remember him by. Of course he had been doing no such thing. Halfway through the delicious meal he had presented her with a priceless-looking diamond. She had sat there staring at it for a long speechless moment.

And then she had looked into his eyes and said no.

‘Have you heard the exciting news?’ Georgie said as soon as Eliza got to school the following day. ‘We’re not closing. A rich benefactor has been found at the last minute. Can you believe it?’

Eliza put her bag in the drawer of her desk in the staffroom. ‘That’s wonderful.’

‘You don’t sound very surprised.’

‘I am,’ Eliza said, painting on a smile. ‘I’m delighted. It’s a miracle. It truly is.’

Georgie perched on the edge of the desk and swung her legs back and forth as if she was one of the seven-year-olds she taught. ‘Marcia can’t or won’t say who it is. She said the donation was made anonymously. But who on earth hands over a million pounds like loose change?’

‘Someone who has a lot of money, obviously.’

‘Or an agenda.’ Georgie tapped against her lips with a fingertip. ‘I wonder who he is. It’s got to be a he, hasn’t it?’

‘There are female billionaires in the world, you know.’

Georgie stopped swinging her legs and gave Eliza a pointed look. ‘Do you know who it is?’

Eliza had spent most of her childhood masking her feelings. It was a skill she was rather grateful for now. ‘How could I if the donation was made anonymously?’

‘I guess you’re right.’ Georgie slipped off the desk as the bell rang. ‘Are you heading down to Suffolk for the summer break?’

‘Um…not this time. I’ve made other plans.’

Georgie’s brows lifted. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Abroad.’

‘Can you narrow that down a bit?’

‘Italy.’

‘Alone?’

‘Yes and no,’ Eliza said. ‘It’s kind of a busman’s holiday. I’m filling in for a nanny who needs to take some leave.’

‘It’ll be good for you,’ Georgie said. ‘And it’s not as if Ewan will mind either way, is it?’

‘No…’ Eliza let out a heavy sigh. ‘He won’t mind at all.’

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN ELIZA LANDED in Naples on Friday it wasn’t a uniformed driver waiting to collect her but Leo himself. He greeted her formally as if she were indeed a newly hired nanny and not the woman he had once planned to spend the rest of his life with.

‘How was your flight?’ he asked as he picked up her suitcase.

‘Fine, thank you.’ She glanced around him. ‘Is your daughter not with you?’

His expression became even more shuttered. ‘She doesn’t enjoy car travel. I thought it best to leave her with the agency girl. She’ll be in bed by the time we get home. You can meet her properly tomorrow.’

Eliza followed him to where his car was parked. The warm air outside was like being enveloped in a thick, hot blanket. It had been dismally cold and rainy in London when she left, which had made her feel a little better about leaving, but not much.

She had phoned Ewan’s mother about her change of plans. Samantha had been bitterly disappointed at first. She always looked forward to Eliza’s visits. Eliza was aware of how Samantha looked upon her as a surrogate child now that Ewan was no longer able to fulfil her dreams as her son. But then, their relationship had always been friendly and companionable. She had found in Samantha Brockman the model of the mother she had always dreamed of having—someone who loved unconditionally, who wanted only the best for her child no matter how much it cost her, emotionally, physically or financially.

That was what had made it so terribly hard when she had decided to end things with Ewan. She knew it would be the end of any further contact with Samantha. She could hardly expect a mother to choose friendship over blood.

But then fate had made the choice for both of them.

Samantha still didn’t know Eliza had broken her engagement to her son the night of his accident. How could she tell her that it was her fault Ewan had left her flat in such a state? The police said it was ‘driver distraction’ that caused the accident. The guilt Eliza felt was an ever-present weight inside her chest. Every time she thought of Ewan’s shattered body and mind she felt her lungs constrict, as if the space for them was slowly but surely being minimised. Every time she saw Samantha she felt like a traitor, a fraud, a Judas.