Chapter Eighteen #3
‘But I affect them all the same, because I have status and money to leverage or not, as I see fit.’ Alistair rubbed his brow.
How to use his influence was the real dilemma.
It had taken coming to Naples to realise it.
At home in Devon, he merely ignored it. But here, he had to face it.
‘Either way I turn, I cannot escape impacting others. On the one hand, those farmers in Devon were not helped by me. I nearly lost their savings by starting something I could not finish. On the other, how many people have been unintended victims of my doing nothing, creating nothing? Who might have been helped if I had extended myself?’ That was what he wanted to do here in Naples—take the chance and extend himself, help others in ways that mitigated their risk.
Leaving Ismay meant he had to give it up.
‘When your father looked at me tonight, I was ashamed of my behaviour.’ He held her gaze steadily, intently. ‘Not just my brazen public behaviour, but my behaviour in private, with his daughter.’
‘With me?’ Ismay stood, unexpected anger flashing in her eyes. ‘You’re ashamed of me? It’s a little late for that.’
He rose quickly, stalling her temper with his touch, his words.
‘No, you misunderstand. I’m not embarrassed by you, or by us at all.
Quite the opposite, in fact. What embarrasses me, Ismay, is how I have treated our affections—carrying on behind closed doors, scurrying around in secret, making love to you in your parents’ home behind their backs, treating this as if it were just another affair. ’
‘This is just an affair, Alistair. It is going to end.’
That shield he’d detected at the beach was being fully employed now.
He would not let her hide behind it tonight.
This was too important. ‘That makes you feel safe, doesn’t it, knowing that this will end?
You tell yourself it doesn’t have to mean anything.
That you don’t have to invest yourself. You think it gives you permission to make love with me and not acknowledge your feelings. ’
‘I have invested my heart before, and it has not worked out. You, of all people, with your three-month mistresses, should understand that.’
‘And I want to change that. I want to try for something different with you, Ismay. There were no feelings, and now there are. I, for one, won’t dismiss that.
I do not want to stay behind my shield. Don’t stay behind yours.
I know you’re scared. I’m scared, too. But I am more afraid of leaving and not exploring what we might have.
’ Would she feel the same? Would she understand how much courage it took to say that or how long he’d wrestled with accepting that?
What if he failed at this? She was not the only one afraid, but he might be the only one willing to try.
She seemed to draw herself up taller. ‘All feelings aside, Alistair, it’s what we decided. You are breaking the contract. Tonight’s efforts will be for naught. Tonight, will in fact have been pointless.’
‘Grounds for the contract have changed. I have discovered tonight that all feelings cannot be set aside. It’s not possible, Ismay, and you know that.
We did not intend feelings when we began this, but they do exist nonetheless.
This is no longer an affair, and you know that, too.
What if we don’t want this to end after all?
Look me in the eye and tell me you do not care for me.
’ He’d not meant to challenge her, but once the words were out, there was no backing down.
They were at the Rubicon now, and he was daring her to cross, to join him in this new territory.
Her eyes flashed sea-green fire. ‘I do care for you, Alistair. No one is more surprised than me about that. But it changes nothing. Caring for you does not mean we should change our course. Perhaps it reinforces all the more that we should stay that course. We care for each other enough to set ourselves free from this trap our parents have laid.’ Her eyes narrowed.
‘Or maybe you don’t care for me enough to give me that?
Perhaps here at the last, you are thinking of yourself and all you gain if you stay.
’ Anger flashed like green lightning in her eyes.
She swallowed hard. He could see her throat work, could see her reach her conclusions.
‘Damn you, Alistair Burke-Price. You promised me you’d leave.
You gave me your word. And damn me, too, for believing you meant it when I know better.
’ She tried to pull her hands away, but he held tight.
If he let go of her right now, she might go entirely.
He held on to her for dear life—his life.
He would not let her classify him with the men who’d failed her.
Dear God, he would say the words if that was what it took.
‘Ismay, if I want to stay, it is because I love you, and you love me even if you’re too damn stubborn to admit it.
’ God, he hoped he was right about that last part.
If she wouldn’t believe his words, perhaps she’d believe his body.