Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“I don’t know where to start,” I murmur, thankful I no longer have to rely on my legs to hold me up.
“Your hands are so cold,” he says, chaffing them between his own. “Where’s your coat?”
“I—I must’ve left it.” I remembered my bag, the newspaper, and I remembered to run. “It’s still at The Ritz.”
“Not The Cadogan?” There’s a playful curl to his words.
“I know, cloak and dagger. I just didn’t want anyone to know.” I take back my hands, folding them in my lap. “And now I wish you had been there because I know I wouldn’t be feeling like this.” My hands shake as I lift them to my head. “He wouldn’t have said the things he said if you’d been there.” Or if Sandy had been there, my mind supplies as an afterthought. And at that, I give into this overwhelming fear by bursting into tears.
“Isla.” Van’s tone is so soft as I allow him to pull me closer. His shirt is soft and his chest so solid. “Hush, darling. Don’t cry, everything is going to be fine.”
In the comfort of his arms, I could almost believe so.
26
Van
Isla cries as she speaks. Then she cries a little more, the words spilling haltingly, the tip of her regal nose turning red. She talks of her ex and his tale of fucking woe. I swear, he’ll be lucky if he lasts a week after making her cry like this.
“He sold you out.”
“Tom?” She raises her eyes to me, her lashes thick with tears. “But he—”
“He has problems he can’t solve, so he served them a prettier proposition.” I brush away tears from her cheek with my thumb. “Prettier in more ways than one,” I add, reluctantly pulling my hand away.
“That is… entirely likely,” she adds, almost curling into herself. “Entirely like him.” She takes a deep, halting breath and looks like she might be about to burst into tears again.
“No.” I hook my forefinger under her chin, angling her gaze my way. “He’s not worth it.”
“I know that,” she protests, “I’m not crying for him. I just find it hard to understand how he could be so selfish.”
Humans are, by and large, selfish creatures, and I include myself. But I don’t go with that. “No more tears. Tell me everything.”
“He’s in debt—to criminals. Millions, I suspect.”
“He came to me last year looking for investment into a leisure complex and a distillery on one of the islands.” The casual drift of my hand suggests that the details don’t matter. But, as they say, the devil is always in the details. Look hard enough, and you’ll find him there, working away.
“I didn’t think you knew each other.” A ripple of unease flickers in her gaze.
“We’d never met before, but he was looking for money and knew me as a friend of Alexander. A wealthy friend, I suppose.”
She ducks her head. “I never told him about you. About us. I never told anyone.”
“Not even your friend Tamsin?”
She raises her eyes, her smile small but spontaneous. “She still mentions you occasionally.”
“You’re still in touch?”
Isla nods. “Mostly by phone. She lives in London. She’s married now and has a couple of children. She’s married to another woman, actually.” The corner of her mouth quirks mischievously. “Life is, apparently, much simpler without men.”
“We have our uses, I’m sure.”
“She’d tell you that’s where batteries come in.” I chuckle—her pert expression, her wet eyes. At least until she lowers them again. “Why couldn’t I have been interested in women?”
“I’m eternally grateful you’re not.”
“Sandy would’ve told you Tom is a bad investment,” she says, reverting to the previous topic. “You didn’t give him money, did you?”
“What do you think?”
“That you probably exercised much more sense than I had concerning him.”
I pull back a touch, my smile rueful. “I’m not sure my reasons were at all sensible. I just wanted to meet the eyes of the man you once belonged to.”
“Our relationship was never like that,” she answers quietly.
“How was it?” The question feels a little like juggling with knives, but I can’t help myself.
“Safe. Or so I thought for a while.”
Safe from me. Safe from heartache. If only she knew the truth.
“It was so hard to stay away from you,” I begin, laying out this truth. “I know I hurt you. That I didn’t deserve you, but my God,” I add, taking her face in my hands, “I’ve missed you.”
“Don’t Niko.” Her hands cover mine, sliding them away. Unsure what to do with them if not holding her, I drop my elbows to my knees.
“I purposely kept my distance, year after year. I knew to see you with him would’ve felt like a knife. Here.” I tap my fingers over my heart. “I liked to tell myself I wouldn’t be the only one hurt.”
“You can’t say things like that.”