Holiday with the Millionaire Page 16

  He should talk to her about her job. About finding somewhere to stay. He could offer that she come and stay with him—it’s not like he didn’t have the room.

  But it was almost as if something was stopping his tongue from functioning. It was the weirdest thing in the world. Every time he tried to imagine himself in a different place from where he was now he just couldn’t see it. Couldn’t see himself as part of the partnership. Couldn’t see himself in a loving, reciprocal relationship.

  It was ridiculous. He was adult enough to know that he was capable of whatever he wanted to be. But there were still those ingrained memories from childhood—and even now his reluctance to visit his family home. His associations of family were different from other people’s. He hadn’t realised how much it had scarred him.

  He winced at the thought. He wasn’t the type of guy to admit that anything scarred him. In lots of ways he’d been lucky. He’d had a roof over his head, clothes on his back and parents who did seem to care—in some part—about him. They just didn’t care about each other.

  Lara sighed in her sleep and turned towards him, one hand tucked under the pillow, the other reaching out towards him.

  Lara had always had this crazy idea that she wasn’t good enough. But it wasn’t her that wasn’t good enough—it was him.

  A horrible cold sensation swept his body. What if he turned out like his dad? What if after a few years all they did was fight? And what if they brought kids into the equation and exposed them to same relationship he’d witnessed between his mum and dad?

  That really made him feel sick.

  Just as all these thoughts jumbled around his head Lara’s eyes flickered open, those perfect blue eyes the same shade as the Mediterranean Sea outside.

  She gave a lazy smile. ‘Hey,’ she whispered.

  ‘Hey,’ he replied. But it didn’t come out quite right. Hers was sexy and content. His was terse.

  A frown creased her brow and she leaned her head on her hand. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just not so sure this was the best idea.’ Where had that come from? Sometimes his brain and mouth were completely detached from one another.

  Something flickered across her face as she sat up in the bed and pulled the sheet up over her naked body. It was too late. He’d hurt her already. ‘Well, it’s a bit too late for that.’ Her voice was matter-of-fact then she gave her head a little shake as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘What is this—the morning after the night before?’

  He winced. That made him feel terrible. He got out of bed—trying to get a little distance—and pulled on his jeans. ‘Don’t you have regrets?’ The words were out before he really thought about them.

  She hesitated for the tiniest second. ‘No, not really. I didn’t think you’d propose marriage the next day, but at the least I hoped we’d still be friends.’

  She’d hesitated. It didn’t matter that he was the person who’d started this. It didn’t matter that all of these insecurities were his, not hers. Now the only thing he could focus on was the fact she’d hesitated for the tiniest second when he’d asked her if she had regrets.

  Lara shook her head, her hair fanning out around her shoulders. ‘What’s the problem? We’re both adults. Look at us. It was inevitable that this was going to happen. We’ve been dancing around each other for the last few weeks.’

  ‘And now we’re not.’ His response was automatic.

  She halted.

  He hated himself. He could almost see the shutters close across her eyes. He’d been too abrupt. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing. Which was probably why he never got himself into these situations. His whole objective this morning had been to make sure he didn’t hurt Lara and he’d completely blown that out of the water. He couldn’t have made more of a mess of this if he’d tried.

  It was just the words. They were jumbling around in his head. He couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t say what he really wanted to say.

  He couldn’t tell her that he thought he’d fallen in love with her and wanted her to be around permanently.

  She stood up, wrapping herself in the sheet, and crossed to stand directly under his nose. ‘What is this, Reuben?’

  He pulled a T-shirt over his head. ‘What’s what?’ he snapped. He couldn’t help it. She’d already called him on this before. He’d hoped if it ever happened again he would be better prepared. Have an answer at his disposal.

  If she’d asked him last night during dinner he would have told her it could be exactly what they wanted it to be.

  So why couldn’t he do that now?

  Why were all his defences in place and every cell in his body telling him to get out of there?

  Lara’s face was an open book. He could see her confusion. He could see her hurt. He could see the pain in her eyes that he had caused.

  His hand reached up automatically to touch her face but her body jerked away from him.

  This was why he shouldn’t do this. This was why relationships didn’t work for him.

  ‘You haven’t answered me.’ Her voice was shaking.

  He hated the way his insides were twisting. Part of him wanted to congratulate her on her persistent questioning and the determined angle of her jaw.

  He looked into her eyes. This was where he should tell her that he loved her. This was where he should tell her he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  This was where he should tell her that he was just being stupid. He was letting childhood experiences colour his adult life. But the words just wouldn’t come.

  He hated himself. And from the look on Lara’s face she hated him too.

  She pressed her finger to his chest. ‘Why can’t you let anyone in? Are you so damaged from your childhood that you can’t let yourself love anyone just a little—or even try?’ She was shouting now, furious with him. ‘I thought you were an adult. I thought you said you’d put all that behind you—cut the toxic people out of your life. You know what people who love each other look like—you’ve seen Addison and Caleb. You know what things can be like if you’ll only give them a chance.’

  He couldn’t speak. He was frozen. He could see the fury on her face and hear all the hurt in her voice, but he just couldn’t reach out. He just couldn’t take that step.

  ‘Get out of my cabin, Reuben,’ she said quietly.

  And in the worst example of bad boy ever, he picked up his jacket and left.

  * * *

  Lara couldn’t breathe. It was as if her lungs couldn’t pull in any air. It didn’t matter that she was only dressed in a sheet. Her head felt fuzzy and her legs weak as she yanked open the door to the balcony.

  The warm outside air hit her immediately. She wasn’t sure if it was better or worse. She leaned over the balcony, trying to suck in deep breaths.

  After a few minutes her heart stopped clamouring against her chest and her head started to clear.

  Still wrapped in the sheet, she took a few steps back. A few people down on the dockside were already staring up at her. She leaned against one of the glass doors.

  Nightmare. Absolute nightmare.

  She’d gone from the perfect night to the worst morning possible.

  But the thing that hurt most hadn’t been the look of confusion in his eyes, or the fact he’d more or less rejected her this morning. It was how she felt inside.

  That little glimmer of confidence that had been seeded inside her since she’d first met Reuben had bloomed and grown. It had made her look at herself, realise she was worthy and make her look at the decisions she made in this life.

  She wouldn’t let him take that away from her. Not now. Not when she’d just got it back.

  She stepped back inside the suite and stared around. She knew exactly what she ne
eded to do.

  Money didn’t matter any more. She could easily put a flight on her credit card.

  For her, this dream cruise was over.

  It was time to get back to reality and make the changes she wanted and deserved.

  She was worthy. And now she believed it.

  But first she would see the Colosseum.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  REUBEN HAD NO idea what he was doing. He had no idea where he was going. He just kept walking. It was amazing how far you could actually walk on a cruise ship.

  He needed to clear his head. Everything he needed to say to Lara was actually in there. But from the way his heart was currently squeezing in his chest he would be lucky if he could ever form words again.

  He stopped and leaned over the deck railing, trying to breathe in some fresh air. The ship had docked in Civitavecchia for Rome. His heart sunk.

  This should be a great day. Lara had raved about visiting Rome. She’d been so looking forward to touring the city and visiting the Colosseum—they’d already signed up for the trips. Another black mark against his name.

  He had to sort this out. He had to. In his working life he never had problems speaking his mind and putting things straight.

  It was only his personal life that was such a screw-up. Trouble was, he’d never met anyone like Lara before. He’d never considered a long-term relationship. He’d never had one.

  He stepped back from the railing and started walking again. His brain was spinning the whole time, trying to formulate an answer to the question, What is this? At this point an answer would not be enough. What he really needed was an answer followed by a heartfelt apology and whatever it would take to persuade her to give him a chance.

  He kept walking. And walking. And walking.

  The corridors of the ships were like a maze. All similar, with no real sense of direction. Eventually he came upon a sign: ‘Medical Centre’.

  Doris. Of course. He took five minutes to check and see how she was doing.

  ‘Where’s Lara?’ she enquired.

  He waved his hand and tried to brush off the remark. ‘She’s fine. She’s getting changed. I’m sure she’ll come and see you later.’

  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.