Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
She had slipped away while he was rehashing the match with the team.
He’d been distracted longer than he had intended, as the Spanish opposition had joined them to organize a rematch.
Pride demanded that the Spaniards got their chance for revenge.
It had ended up with eight men facing each other like boxers before a fight.
Unflinching, unblinking, radiating pure aggression, until the moment the details were ironed out, when the tension vanished completely and they were all the best of friends again.
It was only then he realized that Amber had left the party.
Deciding there was only one place she could be, he checked the stable, but she wasn’t there.
“She’s leaving,” one of the stable lads told him.
“Leaving?” Leaving where? Leaving the island? Impossible. Leaving him? Entirely possible. He couldn’t even defend his behavior. They had danced as if they were the only two people left in the world and then he’d casually walked off to join his teammates.
He ran to the bunkhouse and was relieved to find the light on. He went to the room that had been allocated to Amber and walked straight in. She was bent over her rucksack, which she was packing on the bed. His sudden entrance made her jump.
“When were you going to tell me?” he demanded.
“When will you learn to knock?” Straightening up, she regarded him steadily.
“Come off it, Amber,” he flared impatiently. “What’s going on?”
“That’s what I wondered earlier this evening, when you joined your friends and forgot about me.”
“I didn’t forget about you. I had team matters to discuss.”
“Team matters that I was excluded from.” She nodded. “I get that. I also get that each time you and I are close, you find an excuse to pull away. I don’t want that anymore, Alexei.”
“Which means what?”
“I’m leaving you,” she said quietly.
He frowned. “How will you leave island?”
Her mouth curved in a rueful smile. “Trust you to dive straight into the practicalities, Alexei.”
“Well, they are fairly vital unless you plan to swim home.”
“Yes, they are,” she agreed, “But that’s my point.
It didn’t occur to you to say, ‘You’re leaving me?
’ and to sound as if you cared. You can’t understand how I feel because you won’t allow yourself to feel anything.
If you think about me at all, it’s as little more than a convenience that you pick up or drop whenever it suits you. ”
“That’s not true.”
“Maybe you don’t feel that way, but that’s how you act.”
They were facing each other across Amber’s narrow bed, and the tension was greater than between him and his Spanish counterpart. “What can I do to make this right? If you want to leave the island, you only have to ask, and I’ll take you.”
“You still don’t get it, do you? I’m my own woman.
I might be insignificant in your world, but I don’t need to be shepherded around by the billionaire like a little woman who’s incapable of acting for herself.
I might not have much, but I have my self-respect and a good life back in London, as well as a place I call home, which is more than you have, or will ever have, if you don’t change. ”
Her words stung him. “I’ll leave you to calm down, and we’ll talk in the morning.”
“I won’t be here in the morning. I’m leaving the island, and I’m leaving you. Not that I was ever with you, in any real sense—you wouldn’t let me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No. I don’t think you do,” Amber agreed. “I don’t think you have the slightest idea what it takes to build and nurture a relationship.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he fired back as an image of his grandfather flashed into his mind. “I know exactly what it takes.”
“Hard work, loyalty, trust, and constant devotion,” she said.
“The same that your grandfather gave to you. When you think back to how hard he worked to raise you, and how selfless he was, and how tired he must have been, you know what a huge commitment love is. You’re frightened to risk it, because it might not work for you, so you vent your anger and frustration on the polo field instead—when you’re not working flat-out on your business responsibilities or saving souls with your private army.
What about you, Alexei? What about your happy Christmas?
Why don’t you just put those spinning plates down for a few minutes and work out what you want.
I’ll tell you this—all your money and power can’t buy what your grandfather gave you.
Only you can do that, but first you have to risk your heart, and I’m not sure you’re prepared to do that.
” She glanced at the door. “And now, if you don’t mind, I have a plane to catch. ”
“What do you mean, a plane to catch?” He stared at Amber’s few belongings strewn across the bed.
She was taking nothing from her new wardrobe, he noticed.
“I don’t have a flight plan filed,” he pointed out, in case she thought he could just jump in the jet and take her home.
“And none of my colleagues is planning to leave tonight, as far as I’m aware. ”
“The ambassador has a pressing engagement in London, and he’s not only leaving tonight, but he’s offered me a lift home.” She smiled a little sadly. “I’ve never had friends in high places before.”
She didn’t need him. The realization hit him like a truck. It unsettled him. He turned for the door. “I’ll leave you then—”
“You were never with me, Alexei,” Amber said quietly.
Opening the door onto a slightly damp bed-sit on a freezing-cold morning in the middle of a London winter came as quite a shock after the balmy climate on Isla Celeste, but it was home, and Amber would soon make it warm and welcoming.
It was good to be back among things she loved, though the loneliness in her heart was a big black hole she doubted she could ever fill.
Leaving Alexei had been the hardest thing she’d ever done, but there was no point fooling herself that he would change.
He’d have to want to change before that could happen.
Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to appreciate all the things that made up a home, her home—playbills and photographs, small gifts from friends, and quirky items she hadn’t been able to pass by from the street market, like the sad monkey and the gaudy parrot.
Mr. Mouse would fit right in. Then there were the tapestries she’d hand-stitched and made into cushions, and throws she’d knitted from all the colors of the rainbow.
She should have come here first instead of nursing a series of lukewarm breakfast coffees in the local café.
She knew now that she’d been delaying the moment when she had to step back into her old life, leaving Alexei behind for good.
Sliding her knapsack from her shoulders, she switched on the three-bar electric fire and raised the blind on the front window to peer out.
“Great. Now I get to see the beautiful weather,” she murmured ruefully. The
London sleet was sheeting down. It had turned the busy street into a monochrome image that was a million miles from the Christmas-card depictions of London with their sparkling snow and cheery robins.
Blowing on her hands, she wished the ancient fire would hurry up and warm the room, but the chill inside her went a lot deeper than a cold room.
It had taken up permanent residence in her heart.
Supplies!
There was no point sitting around moping.
But first…
“Okay, Mouse. You’re home. Welcome—” She turned full circle and decided to put the mouse Alexei had given her on the windowsill where he would be the first thing she’d see each day when she came home.
Next she needed some London armor to protect her from the cold.
Reaching inside the battered wardrobe she’d rescued from a skip, she pulled out her sludge-green parka.
The shabby jacket had seen better days and had been sitting neglected in the cold for so long, it was like shrugging on an ice jacket, but critically, it had a hood.
She had intended to leave the post until she got back. There was a stack of mail, most of which was destined to go straight into the recycling bin, but one thick envelope caught her eye. It was from Hard News.
Perching on the bed, she opened it. And blinked.
It was an offer in response to the success of her article, for her to work as a reporter-at-large, traveling the world to find stories.
She sat back to think what this meant. She wouldn’t be tied down anywhere and could maybe afford a proper apartment with a separate bedroom.
The accompanying letter informed her that as her article about life on board Russian Thunder had been so well received, another article about the world’s hottest polo team would be appreciated by return.
That might be a bit of a problem, Amber reflected as she put the letter back inside the envelope.
This was it? He checked the address again. The paint on the front door of Amber’s house was peeling. There was no garden. The entrance opened directly onto the busy main road…
Da. This was definitely it. With a shake of his head, he huffed a surprised laugh to see the small felt mouse sitting in the front window.
At least she hadn’t tossed his gift in the trash.
Pulling up his collar, he left the black Lamborghini and wove his way through the steady flow of pedestrians.
The area she lived in had energy and a real personality.
Very Amber, he thought. The lights were off at her address, so he guessed she was out shopping for essentials.
He’d passed the local shops as he drove by at a crawl in the busy London traffic.
All the shops were open and busy, most of them still boasting Christmas decorations, as if the upbeat neighborhood was in no rush to say good-bye to the happy holiday season.
He could only hope Amber was in the same sort of mood.