Chapter Twenty-One
‘Where’s that gorgeous blonde he’s usually with? Anna-something-or-other.’
I stiffened, freezing like a statue on the deserted balcony in the warm night air.
‘Rhys? You’re well behind the times, mate. I don’t think they’ve been together since that messy business with Marco,’ a second man replied. ‘Personally, I prefer the upgrade.’
I lost whatever was said next as a bus rumbled over the cobblestoned street below me.
Many years ago, my mother had warned me eavesdroppers seldom hear anything good about themselves.
I had a horrible suspicion she was about to be proved right.
Half of me wanted the two gossiping men to move away from the French windows, which were open just far enough to allow their voices to reach me on the balcony.
The other half hoped they’d stay right where they were.
‘It’s always the redheads you need to watch out for. They’re all fire and passion.’
The only fire right now was the one setting my cheeks alight, and as for passion . . . well, that was a word that had practically dropped out of my vocabulary over the last three years.
With the presentations over, people had left their tables to mingle, and after a minute, I too got to my feet.
I could have circled the room; it would certainly have been a great opportunity to do some networking, and there were more than enough business cards in my bag to pass around.
But that’s exactly where they stayed. After one circuit of the room, I’d spotted a temptingly ajar French window and slipped out onto the stone-balustraded sanctuary.
The night air hit my lungs like an antidote from the clashing cocktail of three hundred different perfumes and aftershaves in the library.
It was still warm enough to not regret leaving my wrap draped over the back of my chair.
I stepped to the edge of the balcony, resting my hands on the worn Georgian stonework, which still retained the heat of the day.
The lights of the city were laid out before me, a twinkling panorama of trapped fireflies that would look totally different when daylight changed them back into buildings, traffic signals, and streetlamps.
The hum of traffic from the street below was in competition with the strains of a saxophone played by a busker at the crossroads several floors below me.
His repertoire seemed to consist entirely of love songs.
I looked up into the star-studded sky, wondering why the universe was determined to keep giving me so many reasons to make this night into a memory that wasn’t mine for the taking.
Not when there were other forces in play with the exact opposite agenda.
Helen’s poorly disguised venom and the overheard conversation were just the tip of the iceberg.
There were people here, people who’d known Rhys far longer than I had, who obviously believed he and Annalise were still unfinished business.
Was I in danger of becoming the one thing I’d always sworn I would never be?
Was I the obstacle in someone else’s path?
The fly in the ointment? I shook my head, refusing to hide behind euphemisms. If I didn’t halt whatever this was right now, was I in danger of becoming the other woman?
I didn’t do triangles; never had, never would.
They were the worst kind of relationship geometry.
I might not be able to recall my mother ever reading me a fairy story, but her cautionary tale of never allowing yourself to become involved with a man whose heart was committed elsewhere, that I could definitely remember.
I kept telling myself – and anyone else who would listen – that Rhys and I were friends, and a friend would want to help him make the right decision and support him whatever he chose to do.
A friend wouldn’t be spending her nights wondering what his lips would feel like crushing her mouth. Or imagining his body pressed hard upon hers, reminding them that miraculously they were both still amazingly and incredibly alive, and that the best way to celebrate that would be to —
‘There you are.’
A slice of warm yellow light from the library grew wider as Rhys nudged open the French window and stepped out onto the balcony to join me. He pushed the door shut behind him, blocking out the noise of the gathering.
‘I’m sorry. I had no idea that would take so long. I hope you weren’t bored.’
‘Not at all. It’s been an interesting night. I’ve liked meeting your friends.’ Helen’s face flashed into my thoughts. ‘Well, most of them,’ I corrected on a wry laugh that I knew he’d understand.
‘They’re not bad people. It’s not a bad life. It’s just not a life I want to live anymore. I don’t want to be working until midnight, chasing deadlines or neglecting the people I love, just so I can spend more time at work. Who wants to live like that?’
I had. I did. I shivered as I recognised the old me in so many of the things he was saying. I’d needed thousands of volts of electricity to question whether I was living life the wrong way, but Rhys had figured it out all by himself. I admired him more than he’d ever know for that.
‘Well, even though you’re too polite to admit it, I apologise for taking you on the dullest date you’ve probably ever had.’
‘Clearly you have no idea how many tragic dates I’ve been on.’
‘Aha, so we are calling this a date now?’ he said in mock triumph.
I’d been tricked into walking straight into that one.
‘No. I didn’t say that. In fact, I think tonight would be a really good time to draw some lines in the sand. Just so we know where we are.’
He moved to stand beside me and I shivered, wondering why all the cells in my body went haywire whenever he entered my personal space. Surely that had to be something chemical? Something to do with the lightning? He noticed the raised goosebumps on my arms and wordlessly slipped off his jacket.
There were at least a hundred good reasons why I should object to him draping it around my shoulders, but I forgot all of them when he enveloped me in the garment still warm from the heat of his body.
I breathed him in from the fabric, like a drug I was taking one final hit from before I quit it forever.
‘I know exactly where we are, and where I hope we’ll go,’ Rhys said.
Damn my heart for lurching within me at his words, for racing at the warmth in his voice. I had the most rebellious internal organs known to man. Not one of them knew how to behave when this man got close.
‘What would have happened if I hadn’t agreed to come with you tonight?’ I asked.
He turned to me.
‘Then I probably wouldn’t have spent half of the afternoon in a state of excitement that even teenage me would have been embarrassed to admit to. I wouldn’t have been holding my breath in anticipation until the moment you opened your door and smiled at me.’
I was trembling, and it wasn’t because I was cold. My hands were visibly shaking, and I balled them tightly into fists on the stone wall so he couldn’t see.
‘I also wouldn’t have spent the entire evening wondering if this would be the night when I’d finally get to hold you in my arms and kiss you.
And I also wouldn’t be worrying right now that you’re about to say something that’s going to stop this thing in its tracks for no good reason, except that you’re scared of where it might go. ’
‘I’ll give you a good reason. Two in fact. You have a partner and a child.’
Had my voice ever sounded so small? So sad?
‘I have an ex-partner, who I haven’t loved for a very long time, and a daughter who I’m going to love forever,’ he corrected gently.
‘You should be with Tasha, Rhys. Little girls need their daddies.’
He lifted one hand and gently cupped my cheek. The pad of his thumb ran across my skin and came away wet. How had I not known that I was crying?
‘Where is this coming from? Tasha has me. She’ll always have me. But I don’t think she’s the little girl who’s making you cry right now, is she?’
I was losing ground, losing my focus in an argument I’d thought was watertight and now realised – too late – was leaking like a sieve.
‘This isn’t real. Feelings like this, connections this strong don’t just spring up out of nowhere. I think something weird, something electrical, happened to us when the lightning struck. It’s done something, hotwired us into thinking this attraction between us is real.’
‘So, you’re willing to admit there is an attraction?’
Damn, I’d walked straight into that one. Denying it would make me a liar – we both knew it was there.
‘Yes. Of course I do. But I don’t think that just because the lightning has affected us on a molecular level that we have to act on it.’
He looked down at me, shaking his head sadly.
‘That’s not it. That’s just how we met. It could have been in a lift, or in a sandwich shop, or crashing trolleys in a supermarket aisle. I could have met you anywhere and still felt like this.’
‘Well, I disagree,’ I said, my chin jutting out obstinately. It was a gesture anyone who’d known me in my argumentative teenage years would easily recognise.
‘So, if you think none of this is real, what do you suggest we do about it?’
‘We should probably ignore it,’ I said decisively.
‘What if I can’t?’ Rhys said.
I lost the ability to breathe for a second and that had a lot to do with the expression on his face as he looked down at me. We were now just one reckless footstep apart. My heart rate kicked up a gear.
‘Well, we have to,’ I said, aware I was nervously chewing on my lower lip. ‘Because it’s just lust.’ I was grasping at straws and plucked the one that seemed most logical.
He shook his head again, but there was a glimmer of humour on his lips. Magnetic humour, because suddenly I couldn’t tear my eyes away from them.
‘Okay,’ he said, as though we’d been haggling in a marketplace and a deal had just been struck. ‘I’ll take lust then, even though I know that’s not what this is. But I’ll take it and then show you that no one feels this way because all they want is to get the other person into bed.’
Those words alone almost undid me. I felt a fuse light somewhere low inside and travel down to the place between my legs which was suddenly on fire with need.
He brought his other hand up, cupping my face.
‘Let me prove to you that I’m right.’
‘I’ll prove to you that you’re not,’ I said, looking up at him with eyelashes still spiky from my tears.
‘Are you done arguing with me for now?’ Rhys asked, as his fingers slid gently into my hair, freeing it from its pins to spill like a molten waterfall over his hands.
‘Because we’ve got the moon, starlight, and some guy somewhere playing love songs, and I really can’t think of a better place or time for our first kiss. ’
The lips he was about to claim curved into a reluctant smile.
‘You’re way too cocky. You know that, don’t you?’
‘That one we can discuss later,’ Rhys said, his voice gruff.
And then he kissed me.