CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER THREE
Isabella was a no-show .
‘I am so sorry, mi querida ,’ she said on the phone, when Caitlin had been at the boutique patiently waiting for twenty minutes, making lively conversation with the young girl with whom the appointment had been made for a personal run-through of what they had.
‘What do you mean, you can’t come, Isabella?’ she asked, half-dismayed and half-irritated. She’d rolled her eyes and smiled grittily at Anna, the twenty-something tasked with helping them.
‘Something very important has come up. I am at the airport waiting to board a plane to Madrid. Caitlin, mi querida , I would have called earlier but I forget about the wedding appointment until I looked at the calendar on my phone.’
‘How could you forget, Isabella?’
Caitlin was genuinely stupefied. Yes, levels of enthusiasm had been running below average when it came to the wedding arrangements, but to forget your own wedding dress appointment ? She had a moment of complete anger, because how often had she dreamt of walking down the aisle with a guy who loved her, who wanted to be her husband and take care of her? Isabella and Javier cared deeply for one another, so how could she remove herself to Madrid on such an important day?
‘Caitlin, mi amiga , I have things on my mind.’
She’d sounded close to tears then and Caitlin reluctantly went into sympathy mode, asked her if her father was all right and if he’d had some kind of relapse. She thought not, because surely Javier would have said something this morning when she had popped in to the office to catch up on her work?
‘Have you told Javier?’
‘I have to run, Caitlin. I hear my flight being called. I… I have not managed to get through to him. Anyway, he would be working. He probably would not know that today we had to go and see some outfits. You know men, hermana —that is not their thing, and for sure not Javier’s!’
Caitlin didn’t say anything to that because she hadn’t mentioned to Isabella that Javier would be coming to collect her post-appointment to take her out for dinner. She’d wanted it to be a surprise for the other woman. What woman wouldn’t be tickled pink by that gesture? But maybe she’d just been projecting what she would have wanted onto a woman who really wouldn’t be that bothered anyway.
‘Well.’ She ended the call a minute later and turned to Anna with an apologetic expression. ‘You heard all that. Isabella, the bride-to-be, isn’t going to be coming after all.’
Caitlin looked around the gloriously well-stocked boutique, beautifully laid out on two floors with racks upon racks of froth and lace, and every style of wedding dress any bride-to-be could possibly wish for. The top floor was for fittings, and the dresses there were all designer labels with eye-wateringly expensive price tags. On the ground floor were the less expensive but just as gorgeous dresses, including outfits for mothers of the bride. She could have spent a day there just touching all the lovely lace and silk, and gazing at the veils and tiaras and losing herself in the daydreams she’d had growing up.
‘I’m sorry. I think we’ll have to make another appointment. Although, at this rate,’ she mused, ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if the excited fiancée doesn’t get me to choose something for her to wear. It’s just a simple ceremony until the main event later in the year, but even so, something gorgeous in cream silk… A little flared skirt with a matching jacket, perhaps, and some fabulous shoes… I would have even added a hat—just something simple but exquisite, although I’m not sure that’s Isabella.’
‘Some brides take more of a back seat than others,’ Anna said sympathetically. ‘Some are just really busy with their careers and simply don’t have the time. You’d be surprised at how many last-minute cancellations we get.’
‘What a nuisance for you.’
‘I have an idea. I mean, you’re here now, and I can see how disappointed you are and also…how thrilled you are to be here.’
‘Well, it’s all so beautiful…’
Anna burst out laughing and winked.
‘I’m here on my own before closing and it’s not as though I can sign out early. My boss has eyes in the back of her head. Don’t know how she does it. So, as we’re both here and I have no client to impress, why don’t you be naughty and choose your favourite dress? I can measure you and fit you, just like the real thing. I mean, who knows, you might be back here one day to buy something for yourself! Trust me, I’ll make sure you get a healthy discount if you come back for your own dream wedding dress.’
Caitlin’s mouth fell open. Suddenly she was Cinderella—a guilty one.
‘Wouldn’t you get in trouble?’ She glanced around just in case ‘trouble’ happened to be lurking in a corner somewhere.
‘My boss would never know that you weren’t my client,’ Anna said drily. ‘And it’s not as if I’ll be cutting any fabric or sending anything off for alterations. A few pins here and there… No one will know and, if you like, I can even take a picture of you in your perfect dress on your phone, for posterity. Just make sure you don’t show your fella!’
‘I don’t currently have one of those,’ Caitlin said absently. She grinned. ‘But, if you’re sure , might be fun. Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she?’
For the next forty minutes, the time allotted for the non-appearing fiancée, Caitlin pretended. She was back to being a kid, losing herself in a make-believe world that had always been a lot more fun than the real one; dreaming big dreams she sadly knew would never come true.
She chose a flamboyantly romantic wedding dress, chattering all the time to Anna, who was as careful and meticulous as if she were the real deal.
Standing on the chair in front of the full-length mirror, Caitlin’s eyes were shining as she breathed in the frothy aroma of a wedding aisle lined with flowers…faces turned in her direction…an avuncular vicar smiling and ready to join her in holy matrimony. Somewhere, there would be a little choir of children with their pure voices singing one of her favourite songs, or perhaps violinists. She would have written and memorised a special little speech for her husband-to-be. Someone would be walking her up the aisle—identity to be determined at a later date, but probably one of her girlfriends. And, waiting for her, turning slowly to face her, her dream groom…who looked suspiciously like her tall, dark, handsome boss.
It was a wonderful feeling. She was Cinderella for the very first time in her life and in that moment, everything was forgotten: the sadness of foster care; the eagerness to forge a life of independence; that juvenile broken heart; her improbable crush on her unavailable boss; the topsy-turvy mess of helping to sort out a wedding for a woman she liked to a guy she fancied…
She lowered her eyes, blushing and smiling, and did a little awkward twirl on the chair. When she opened her eyes…there he was: the guy in her wild imagination waiting by the altar for her to sashay towards him.
Javier—her boss.
Except, this wasn’t a convenient figment of her imagination. This was her boss , standing at the top of the narrow staircase, looking at her in a wedding dress. Caitlin broke out in an instant cold sweat. Sheer panic combined with paralysing mortification.
She literally couldn’t move a muscle as he strolled towards her, his dark eyes resting on her burning face, giving a once-over of the extravagant dress that barely contained her abundant curves—way too many curves for something as elaborate as this. She agonisingly avoided glancing down at her breasts which were bursting out of the snug, heart-shaped bodice.
‘Not exactly what I was expecting,’ he drawled, coming to a dead stop in front of her.
Caitlin was lost for words. In the heat of the moment, she’d forgotten about Javier; she had somehow assumed that he would be politely waiting outside for Isabella to join him.
He couldn’t have looked more devastatingly handsome. He’d come straight from work. His white shirt had been impatiently rolled to the elbows and he’d undone the top two buttons so that she could just about glimpse the dusting of dark hair on his chest.
‘I… I…’ she spluttered, but before her addled brain could come up with something suitable Anna stepped in front of her and held out her hand.
‘I’m Anna.’
‘And I’m surprised.’ Javier continued to look at Caitlin with amusement. ‘Where is my fiancée? Last I knew, you and I weren’t engaged to be married, were we?’
He made a show of looking around him for Isabella while Caitlin stood there, desperately wanting the ground to open up and swallow her whole, and not disgorge her until she was very, very far away from her boss.
Anna filled in the blanks. ‘Your fiancée unfortunately couldn’t make it.’
‘So…?’ he prompted in a long, lazy drawl.
His eyebrows shot up and Caitlin finally found her voice, although what could she say—that she’d been swept away on a tide of wishful thinking, to the guy who’d probably never crossed paths with wishful thinking and so wouldn’t have a clue what she was on about?
‘So,’ she hedged, ‘I thought that…’
‘I persuaded her to try on her dream dress,’ Anna piped up. ‘Good for business.’ She winked at Javier, one business person to another. ‘If I can get Caitlin to fall in love with a wedding dress from the shop, then I’ve got a potential customer in the not-too-distant future!’
‘I’ll get changed,’ Caitlin muttered huskily and self-consciously as Anna helped her off the stool and Javier lent a hand, steadying her. She’d gone from feeling on top of the world in her fairy-tale, fantasy wedding dress to feeling like a complete fool.
She burned up as she hurried towards the fitting rooms, having to gather great swathes of fabric as she walked because the dress had been far, far too long for her.
* * *
Javier watched Caitlin hurry away, cheeks pink. The petite girl standing next to him was chattering away, obviously trying her best to smooth things over in an awkward situation. He barely heard a word she was saying. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting. When Caitlin had told him that it would be a nice gesture to surprise Isabella by showing up post-wedding-dress fitting to take her out for a meal, he’d acquiesced, largely because it hadn’t been worth the debate.
He and Isabella communicated daily. She’d chosen to stay at one of his penthouse apartments in Knightsbridge rather than share his house, and he got that. They had an understanding of which Caitlin was unaware. But could he be bothered to argue the toss about whether or not to meet Isabella this evening? No. It had become apparent that his PA was the epitome of romantic. Why disappoint her? She was already utterly confused by his arrangement with Isabella. She’d no doubt been raised on a diet of the traditional fairy stories, where the fair maiden always ended up walking up the aisle to the handsome suitor.
So here he’d come, fully expecting his fiancée to be waiting for him. Instead, he’d rung the doorbell, pushed open the door and headed up the stunted staircase to find… Just thinking about what he’d found made his mind go into instant meltdown.
Of course, he’d noticed those lush curves before, hidden underneath the bouncy but unrevealing work outfits. But to find Caitlin standing on that chair, her face radiant and shining, her body barely contained in a wedding dress that was all pinched-in waist and deep neckline, had been mind-blowing.
‘Lush’ didn’t come close to describing her body. She was the perfect hourglass—slender waist with rounded hips and breasts that were several sizes more than a handful.
He’d felt faint. His libido had duly risen to the occasion and he’d only managed to control his body by focusing on the fact that finding her standing on a chair in full regalia was a shock. He’d kept his eyes fastened to her face, but how could he have missed the push of her breasts against the tight-fitting bodice? There’d been so much cleavage on display that he’d struggled to breathe properly.
And, when she walked off, the sway of those generous hips kept him nailed to the spot, unable to move or even take in what the girl next to him was jabbering about.
Javier didn’t do instant lust—not like this. He liked to be in control. Maybe it was because he had been brought up to respect the obligations that came with his family’s standing. Maybe a life led on the straight and narrow just didn’t allow for anything but control. But there were times when he knew that the explanation for the man he was just wasn’t so simple.
The loss of his mother had inserted a shard of ice into his soul, and it had only grown as he had matured. Had he ever tried to pull that shard out? Ever tried to see what he could be if he came down from his ivory tower? No. He liked things the way they were because he could never be hurt the way he had been all those years ago, not if he controlled everything and everyone around him. Just as he controlled this marriage, getting just what he wanted from it, and knowing that Isabella was as well, which was a bonus.
He was attracted to women; he dated them, slept with them, got bored and moved on. He had never been so physically bowled over that breathing became difficult but he had been just then.
She emerged in record time, back in the knee-length flowered skirt and the loose green top with buttons down the front. He wondered what it would feel like to undo those buttons one by one and then scoop those magnificent breasts out of whatever bra might be struggling to contain them.
She couldn’t meet his eyes, and he had a sudden, primitive urge to tilt her chin so that she had to look at him and tell her that it had been a pleasure seeing her in that dress. He knew that somewhere deep inside she was uncomfortable and embarrassed. Weirdly, so was he. His control had taken a knock.
‘Okay,’ she said vaguely to no one in particular, before turning to Anna and offering a few stilted remarks about her client who had gone AWOL.
‘I’ll rearrange,’ she said, moving towards him, and yet managing not to catch his eyes.
‘I should apologise,’ she said, still not looking at him as they made their way down the stairs with Anna following a discreet distance behind to lock up for the evening. She was saying something about being remiss in not making sure the front door was locked while she’d been upstairs. Javier barely heard. He could breathe in the heady floral scent of the woman keeping her distance slightly behind him.
‘Apologise for what?’
‘I lost track of the time.’
‘Apologise for what?’ he repeated.
‘For… Isabella didn’t show up… Well, she called, actually, to tell me that she had to fly back to Madrid. She didn’t say why, so…’
‘You’re stammering.’
‘Can you blame me? I feel uncomfortable about this!’
‘I booked a restaurant. Since Isabella isn’t here, why don’t you join me for dinner?’
‘Aren’t you bothered that your fiancée has disappeared off to Madrid without telling you?’
‘I expect she’ll call me later to explain.’
‘This is crazy!’
Javier raked his fingers through his hair and paused briefly to look down at her. Her face was pink and angry and he wanted nothing more than to push back her tangled blonde curls and kiss her full, pouting mouth.
‘I think your concern is misplaced,’ he said softly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I live in a different world to the one you’re accustomed to.’
‘You’re not kidding. Don’t get me wrong, Javier. I see that maybe you’ve had an arrangement in place with Isabella for a long time because you’re both from the same background, and your families go back a long way, but I don’t get why you’re both so indifferent about the details when you care about one another. It’s not like one of these cases of two people only meeting a week before they tie the knot.’
‘Neither of us is romantically inclined.’
‘You don’t have to have stars in your eyes to want a photographer at your wedding or to show up for an appointment for a wedding outfit with just a week to go before the big day.’
‘Modestly sized day.’
‘And I’m not having dinner with you, Javier!’
‘The table’s booked. It would be a shame to waste it. Besides, we can call it a working dinner.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Fill in the blanks.’
‘What blanks are there to fill in? Hasn’t Isabella kept you in the loop about the practical details of what’s been booked?’
‘Okay, we can fill in other blanks.’ He glanced sideways at her and grinned, hailing a black cab and ushering her in before she could protest.
Javier was playing a dangerous game, he knew that, but he couldn’t resist the temptation to spend a little longer in her company and find out a bit more about her. His body had betrayed him with a physical reaction that had shaken him to the core and he’d liked how that had felt, danger or no danger. He’d liked having a taste of what it felt like to be a little out of control.
What was so wrong with wanting to find out more about her? With this situation in the melting pot, wasn’t it natural that he would want to find out a bit more about her? He’d always thought of her as an open book and, now that he’d discovered that she wasn’t quite as open as he’d thought, wasn’t it only human nature to pursue his curiosity? Wouldn’t it actually bring more depth to their working relationship in the future if he knew a little more about her? That seemed a reasonable conclusion and he was happy to stick to it.
* * *
‘I’m not dressed for a fancy dinner,’ Caitlin protested tightly and with impatience.
How had she found herself in the back of a black cab with her boss? She knew. She’d been hot and bothered, seeing him there, staring at her in a damn wedding dress of all things. What on earth had possessed her, twirling around and completely forgetting the time? Had it been sad for her to want to reach out and touch some fairy dust for once? Or had it just been human? Caught on the back foot, she just hadn’t been thinking straight. Now she’d followed Javier out and straight into a taxi, her thoughts all over the place.
In between those thoughts of how embarrassed she was, there was also a crazy urge to try and second-guess what had been going on in his head when he’d seen her. Just for a second she thought she’d seen something there, a flare of something and, however silly it was to harbour that thought in her head, she couldn’t resist pulling it apart and dissecting it.
He was engaged… What on earth was she thinking?
‘You’re more appropriately dressed than if you’d come out in what you were trying on.’
‘Can I ask you to let that go?’
‘I’m sorry, it’s just that, well, it was quite the surprise.’ Javier grinned and, not for the first time, Caitlin wished the ground would open up and swallow her.
* * *
Once they arrived at a fabulously Michelin-starred restaurant she could remember having read about a few months back, Caitlin groaned. Could things get any worse?
She glanced down at her work outfit and imagined how much more fitting it would have been for Javier to walk into a place like this with Isabella on his arm. Isabella was like one of those impossibly beautiful heroines she used to read about in teenage romances—the sort she’d pretend to be before returning to planet Earth.
‘Hey.’
She raised her blue eyes to his and their gazes locked. Her breath hitched, and she parted her mouth and watched as he automatically looked at her lips before guarding his expression.
‘There’s no need to be self-conscious,’ he told her in a roughened undertone.
‘I’m not,’ Caitlin returned quickly. She was tense as a bowstring as he reached across to open her door. She had felt the brush of his arm against her breasts, just a brush, and her body had gone crazy in response.
‘Sure?’
‘I’m just not sure what I’m doing here, aside from filling up a reservation you happened to make.’ She sighed. ‘I guess we could spend some time talking about work.’
‘Or we could leave work chat for another day.’
Typically, with effortless self-assurance, he paid absolutely no attention to any of the looks the other diners gave them. She, on the other hand, couldn’t help but wonder whether those curious eyes were trying to work out what a guy like Javier was doing with a girl like her.
When they were seated at one of the tables at the back, he said thoughtfully, ‘Isabella has discussed all the things that are already in place. You might not think that I’m that interested—and maybe I’m not as interested as you might expect me to be—but I’m satisfied that you’ve been efficient in sorting everything out. I realise there wasn’t a lot of time, and you’ve had to do a lot of tricky co-ordinating, and I appreciate that.’
‘Thank you.’
‘It’s nothing less than I would have expected.’
‘I’m the consummate professional.’ Caitlin grinned reluctantly. ‘Plus, I love organising.’
‘It’s an excellent trait in a PA and, on a personal level, good practice for you—like trying on the dress.’ He lowered his eyes, shielding his expression.
‘That was stupid and I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Like the girl said, you’re preparing for when it’s your turn. I’ve realised that you’re not quite as blasé as I thought you were when it comes to a situation like the one I’ve thrown you into. When I assigned you to this…project…I had no idea you would find it so difficult.’
‘I don’t find it difficult.’
‘You keep trying to work out why it’s not obeying the ground rules you have in place when it comes to relationships.’
‘I…’ Caitlin opened her mouth to deny that she had ground rules about anything but she knew that that would be a lie. She had tons of ground rules when it came to the sort of lasting commitment that went with marriage.
‘You’re a hopeless romantic.’ He smiled. ‘And it’s hard for you to understand those of us who aren’t.’
‘I guess you’re right, although not in the way you imagine. I suppose…’
‘How so?’ Javier was looking at her carefully. ‘What do you mean, not in the way I imagine?’
‘I mean that, whatever restrictions you grew up with, you still had advantages most people could never imagine in a lifetime.’
‘Like I said, money is not the answer to everything.’
‘It’s actually the answer to quite a lot, except you wouldn’t know about that, because you’ve never known what it feels like to do without.’
‘Is that what you were talking about when you mentioned that your life was as restricted as mine? Tell me about that. Did you grow up with financial hardship?’
Menus were placed in front of them, along with the bottle of wine Javier had ordered, and Javier stared at Caitlin. She fidgeted and lowered her eyes, keen to change the topic.
‘So you remembered that.’ She flushed.
‘When it comes to remembering, elephants and I have a lot in common. Still, I repeat what I said to you, that money comes with its own limitations. Our lives may have been very different from a money point of view but I’m betting we still both had to deal with our own private struggles, big or small. Anyway, when you’re young, everything feels big.’
Caitlin was very still as she listened to Javier. Restrictions? She felt tears of self-pity spring up inside her. He might have lived his life in a gilded cage, but she’d lived in a cage as well, and it made a big difference when the bars of the cage weren’t made of gold. She thought of the longing she had had for a ‘normal’ family. She remembered her daydreams, silly make-believe fantasies of things she would never have and places she would never get to go. How dared he pry into her life and somehow try and make out that his privileged life had been anything like hers?
‘I feel so sorry for you, Javier—prisoner of wealth and privilege with loving parents who only wanted the best for you. So you had your future mapped out,’ she said bitterly. ‘There are worse things in life than that, believe me.’
‘And what are those worse things that you’re talking about, Caitlin?’
Caitlin’s heart hammered. Javier couldn’t possibly understand. So, he had had a few despondent moments gazing from his castle at how those carefree kids on the other side of the tracks got on with life. Well, it all felt hopelessly patronising, given her own background. She had done her own gazing, but through the windows of a foster home, just longing to have a family of her own; just to have somebody who really cared whether she did her homework or not. She wished he’d let this go but, like a dog with a bone, he wasn’t going to give up asking her questions, and the more she retreated, the further he would delve.
‘You really want to know?’ Caitlin said shortly.
‘I’m all ears.’
‘I was raised in foster care.’
* * *
The silence stretched and stretched until it became unbearable. For a few seconds, Javier wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. Foster care? It wasn’t a revelation he’d expected and, caught on the back foot, he could only stare at her in growing silence.
‘You look shocked,’ she said defensively.
‘I am.’ Why bother beating around the bush? He was truly shocked. He’d always prided himself on being able to read people but he hadn’t read her. Sudden sympathy flared inside him and he felt as though parts of a jigsaw puzzle had slotted into place, parts he hadn’t even realised had been missing in the first place: that curious mix of innocence and robust, streetwise savviness; the apparent openness even though he had always sensed something guarded just beneath the surface, an element of there being more than met the eye.
The image of her in the wedding dress leapt into his head and he drew in a sharp breath. Had that been a lonely child’s dream?
‘You don’t get how Isabella and I could be so casual about something so big as a marriage,’ he murmured softly. ‘Shall I tell you what I don’t get?’
‘What?’
He waited until oversized plates of food had been set in front of them with flourish, and until more wine had been poured, and then he leant forward and met her wary gaze steadily.
‘I don’t get how you could be so romantic, be such a believer in love, when you were brought up…in foster care. Didn’t you develop a hard shell? Something to protect yourself from the slings and arrows of circumstances you couldn’t control?’
‘Of course I have. I do believe in love, and I have dreams, but I’m realistic. Because I had a tough childhood doesn’t mean it’s killed everything inside me. But I look at you and Isabella, with your privileged, cushioned lives behind you—two people who love one another—and I can’t believe you would be so casual about your marriage. You treat it as though it’s just going to be another day in the week, no big deal.
‘Do you know how lucky you are to have found someone who loves you, someone you love back? To have lots of family wishing you well and looking forward to you both tying the knot? So what if there’s an element of practicality in getting married? So what? It’s still going to be something special, something you should both want photographs of, to look back on down the years.’
She was bright red and her blue eyes were wide and urgent.
Looking at her, Javier had never felt more out of his comfort zone. She looked as though she was about to cry, and he wanted to reach out and rub the tears away before they fell.
She’d put all those dreams she’d woven into a lonely childhood into the idea of some kind of dream, fairy-tale wedding between himself and Isabella. He’d told her that it was a marriage of convenience, but she had translated their mutual affection as some kind of unacknowledged, burning love that was just there waiting to burst free. It was way off target, but oddly incredibly touching.
‘I developed a hard shell,’ he admitted, thinking back to a background that had been immensely privileged and yet circumscribed. His parents loved him, but it had been a regimented life, and a series of nannies had done most of the graft when it had come to the nuts and bolts of his day-to-day life as a kid.
‘To protect you from what?’
Javier said softly, ‘To protect me from anything that might have been out of bounds, be that friends from different social circles, hobbies that weren’t suitable or risk-taking adventures that were deemed too dangerous.’ He hesitated. ‘Fairy tales are built on the concept of falling in love,’ he said roughly.
‘Yes, they are, and…’
‘And that’s not the case for Isabella and myself.’
‘But…’
‘Yes, we care deeply for one another, but we’re not in love—neither of us. Caring deeply about someone is all I’m capable of, Caitlin.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I lost my mother when I was young,’ he confessed, ‘and, while foster care may have kept your dreams intact against all odds, losing my mother put a torch to mine. When she died my father went off the rails…fell for a younger woman who fleeced him of a fortune. He couldn’t handle his grief, and it made me realise that love and loss go hand in hand.’ He shot her a crooked smile. ‘Affection,’ he said, ‘is doable, however, and that’s what Isabella and I share.’
‘Javier, I’m so sorry…’
‘We all have our stories to tell,’ Javier said drily. He looked at her for a few seconds then said in a quiet voice, ‘I think it might be sensible to close the lid on any more personal details, don’t you? And one more thing—thank you for sharing a part of your past with me. I wouldn’t have pried if I’d known just how private you may have wanted to keep it.’
Their eyes met and he thought, I’ve said things here that I’ve never said before to anyone… The lid will definitely have to be closed on this because this urge to confide stops here and now…