Exotic Nights

But, as always, she softened for him, opened for him, couldn’t say no to him. He could have her and take from her as much as he wanted. And then he softened too, his tongue caressing where moments before his mouth had pressed so fiercely, his fingers lightened on her arm and his lips soothed.

And at last she had the strength—she knew not from where—to twist away from him. He couldn’t have everything from her when he wouldn’t offer the same. It wasn’t fair.

She turned, blindly groping for the door handle again, wrenching it open and scrambling into the seat.

‘Drive.’ It was sort of a bark but it ended as a broken sob. ‘Please just drive.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

OWEN threw himself into work. He worked and worked and worked. And every minute of the day he thought about Bella. Missed her. Wondered what the hell she was doing—where she was, who she was with, whether she was happy, whether she was missing him. And then he worked some more.

He hadn’t thought he had it in him to be so aware of another person. To be driven to meet their needs—to put someone before himself. He’d been so ignorant of his parents’ situation, so wrapped up in himself and his ideals and ideas. Only now he saw how they and Liz had tainted his view of marriage and children.

He hadn’t been in love with Liz. He’d never been in love with anyone until now. So of course back then he hadn’t been ready for a child. The baby-that-wasn’t hadn’t ever seemed real to him, it had simply been the symbol of a burden he hadn’t wanted then and thought he’d never want.

Now he knew that if Bella’s child had been real he would have loved it—because now he knew what it was to love and how uncontrollable love could be.

When Liz had turned on him and told him how lonely he’d end up, he hadn’t believed her. He’d never felt lonely. Too busy with his work. Too busy out partying when the need for physical company bit. He’d thought he had it all sussed.

Until now. Now he felt as lonely as it was possible to feel. And it hurt so badly he didn’t know if he’d ever recover—he could only try to get used to it somehow.

He supposed it served him right. That the woman he’d found he was able to love wasn’t one who needed it. The timing was all wrong. Her career was just starting. She was finally getting to where she’d wanted to be for so long. And he refused to ruin it for her. He didn’t want her to resent him.

It was so ironic that when he finally found someone he wanted to care about, to love and cherish, help and protect, she was someone who was determined not to need those things. Bella didn’t want help; she didn’t want his money. She wanted independence. She’d said it, at the end there, that she needed to do this by herself. She was looking for respect. Trying to fight her family for it, fight him, every step of the way. But couldn’t she see there was a balance? He couldn’t stand back and watch her futile efforts when there were ways in which he could help. Maybe the way it had ended was all for the best.

Like hell it was.

As the days progressed, so his anger rose. Screw this true hero thing. It was a con. There was no happiness in nobility—not this sort. He should never have let her go, at least, not without him. She’d tipped his world upside down and then walked out, leaving him in a hell of a mess. Damn it, his wanting to help her wasn’t because he thought she was incapable; it was about him simply wanting to support her. No one was truly independent—not even him.

And there he’d been worried he’d get bored with one person for life.

He laughed, a bitter, self-mocking laugh. What an arrogant jerk. No one could ever be bored around Bella.

She was full of life—a little kooky perhaps, most definitely a touch accident-prone. But she was also true and sweet and generous and funny. He wanted the warmth she had to offer. And he didn’t want to ever give it up.

He couldn’t stop the emotion from flowering in him. She was his own magic fairy—she’d brought back his humanity, his humility, his hope. And he wanted to keep her by his side for ever. He chuckled. So he was still selfish. He was about to make his most selfish move ever.

The rehearsal weeks flew by. Bella had never worked so hard in all her life. They rehearsed all day and halfway through the evening. After that she collapsed into her little single bed in the tiny overcrowded flat that she was sharing with three other cast members and tried to sleep. Tried not to feel cold and lonely. But it was only when she closed her eyes tight and imagined herself in his big warm bed that she managed to drift off to sleep. In that blissful moment just on waking she’d still think she was there with him, but then she’d open her eyes and remember.

The work was full on but fun. She was glad she’d done all those years of dancing as a kid. Costumes were made, the set was designed, affairs were begun, gossip was spread. It was the mad, bad, bitchy world of musical theatre. She kept her distance from the worst of it. She learnt her part, understudied the other and developed an unhealthy obsession with the Internet. There was a lot on him—had she known she’d have looked sooner. But there was his website and a ton of articles about the savvy young entrepreneur. One of them had an accompanying picture of him in jeans and tee, totally looking like the relaxed guy she’d met that first night.

She couldn’t indulge in her usual fix of chocolate, ice cream and red wine without thinking of him, couldn’t eat her muesli at odd times of the day, couldn’t even have a coffee. Everywhere she turned, everything she did, she thought of him. But worst of all were the nights. When in her lonely, little bed she lay restless, remembering every moment, every move, every touch, every tease.

She worked harder, longer, not wanting her silly heart to ruin this time for her.

There was nothing, no contact from him, just as she’d requested. And she forced that stupid, still sparking hope inside to shrink—day by day.

Opening night was upon her before she knew it. Nerves threatened to swamp her. But as she put on her make-up the security guy came and delivered the most beautiful bunch of flowers to her. There was no note other than her name. No hint of who they might have come from. The speed of her pulse quadrupled. Were they from him? She got through the show on a buzz of adrenalin and bubbling hope. Was he out there—in the audience?

Afterwards she joined in the laughter and excitement of the others, then scurried back to her dressing room, changing into her opening-night party outfit. There was a knock at the door. Heart thundering, she opened it.

‘Dad! Vita!’ Her jaw dropped. ‘It’s you.’

‘We wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ Vita threw her arms around her.

‘I didn’t think you even knew.’ Bella emerged from the hug and looked from her father to her sister.

‘Well, we wouldn’t have if it was down to you.’ Vita gave her a sharp look.