Chapter Eleven

The next morning Lizzie threw open the curtains as she always did. This time the beauty of the morning countryside was marred by a sight that sent shivers down her spine. Frantically she tugged the curtains shut again, blocking out the sight of dozens of reporters and cameramen camped outside on the drive. Shit. If only getting rid of them was as easy as shutting the flaming curtains. She slumped back on the bed, eyes tightly closed. This was her reality. Not the relaxed walks with Nick, or the cozy evenings spent in front of his fire. No, that was just a pleasant diversion. Reality was a boyfriend who’d sickeningly betrayed her, a reputation that was in tatters, and a career that was rapidly heading down the plughole.

All of which she probably deserved. Why had she suddenly started to believe she was entitled to something good happening for a change? God, she’d even begun to believe in Nick’s story, that everything would be okay. Lizzie, come back with me to my lovely barn and wait there while I wave my magic wand and make all the bad stuff disappear. Next she’d start believing in Father Christmas and the flipping Tooth Fairy.

For a while she buried her head in the pillow, trying to block out what was waiting for her downstairs. If lying down and feeling sorry for herself was the answer to her problems, she’d have cracked this days ago. But it wasn’t. So she forced herself out of bed and into the shower. Then, in a well-established routine, she styled her hair, put on her make-up and prepared to face the press. Today she would adopt another role in front of the cameras. That of the top model whose career was ruined by a sordid affair with a low-life scumbag. Viciously she slammed the palm of her hand against the bedroom door. Yes, that was better. Anger beat wallowing in pity, any day. Even if her hand was smarting a bit.

With her anger still simmering Lizzie walked down the stairs, ready to face the music. That was when she saw Nick, sitting on the sofa, scribbling away on a sheet of paper.

‘I see we have company,’ she remarked.

He looked up with a start. From the look of him, he hadn’t had much sleep. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and strangely flat. ‘It seems our friends from last night weren’t content to keep the knowledge of Elizabeth Donavue’s appearance to themselves.’

‘Maybe I should have stayed in Los Angeles after all.’

His jaw tightened. ‘I’m sorry you feel that way. I realise I was wrong to insist we went out last night, but I’m damned if I’m going to apologise for taking you away from the media circus that was LA.’

‘Except now I’m facing the same circus here. So what’s the difference?’

‘I’m here with you.’

The words were so softly spoken it took a moment for them to register. ‘Well, that’s just great. Now I can cock up your life as well as my own. Brilliant. Bloody fantastic.’

He came to stand in front of her, his eyes searching hers. ‘Who said anything about either of our lives being cocked up?’

Unable to bear his kindness, she moved away. ‘You can seriously stand there and pretend to me that everything is going to work out? Charles is still out there spouting his lies. Photographs of me in compromising positions continue to be splashed across the papers. Now I’m in danger of being hounded in two countries, not one. And you’ve been dragged into it, too. That’s real progress. Remind me to listen to you more often.’

Nick stepped back from her metaphorical slap round the face. ‘Well, I’m just about to put an end to at least one of your problems,’ he muttered darkly.

It was then that his eyes seemed to notice her. Since arriving at the barn she’d settled on her preferred style – ponytail, jeans and a jumper. Now she was in model mode. She’d lightly curled her hair so it flowed loosely down her back and she’d put on a silk blouse and soft cream trousers that flared from her hips, making her legs look longer than they were.

‘Wow, you look stunning.’

‘I figured if I’m going to talk to the press, I’m going to do it as Elizabeth Donavue, not Lizzie.’

‘Oh no you’re not.’ He moved towards the door, blocking her path. ‘You’re staying right here. I’m the one going outside to talk to these morons.’

‘I hate to disappoint you, Nick, but they aren’t going to be interested in what you have to say.’

‘Interested no, but they’ll damn well take notice. That’s if they want to avoid a lawsuit for trespassing and harassment.’ With that he yanked open the door and slammed it behind him.

She stared at the closed door for a moment, then sighed. The man had no idea how hard it was to get rid of the press. Still, he was obviously determined to act as her personal protector, so she’d give him a chance to do it his way. And having him take control, watch out for her, try and guard her from harm, was a pretty incredible feeling. It would be even more incredible if he was doing it for reasons other than duty and honour. He cared about her, yes, but did he feel any more for her than that? Because her feelings for him were becoming gradually more complex. What had started out as a simple crush was fast developing into something more scary. When he looked at her now, he didn’t just melt her insides, he melted her heart.

As if she needed the addition of that confusion to her already chaotic life.

In a bid to distract herself, she started to make a cup of tea. God, she really was so very English still.

‘They’re going,’ Nick announced as he stormed back in. ‘I don’t think we’ll see them again.’

‘What, that easily?’

‘Yes,’ he replied somewhat tersely. ‘This is my private property, both the driveway and the land surrounding it. They can’t hang around here without my permission.’

Lizzie felt very contrite. She’d overreacted again. Big time. That was her all over. A real drama queen. Using Nick as a punchbag when she should be venting her anger at the man who’d caused it. ‘Thank you,’ she said inadequately.

‘You’re welcome. There aren’t many things I’ve got right recently. At least this was one of them. For now at least.’ There was no accompanying wry smile. Just a tight, almost grim expression.

‘You’ve got a lot of things right,’ she argued hotly. ‘I’ve not always been gracious enough to recognise them.’

‘No. Until Charles is found guilty, I haven’t done a damn thing.’ He thrust a hand into his jeans pocket. ‘I’ll be in the study if you need me.’

Lizzie watched him stride away with an ache in her heart. She was falling in love with a man who must see her as nothing but trouble. It was time she kept away from him for a while and gave him a break from her overly cruel tongue.

They kept to their separate ways for the rest of the morning. Nick waited until he’d heard Lizzie make her lunch and return to her room before going down to make his. It was the first time they’d spent the day together, yet not shared a meal. He knew she was still angry with him. Why else would she not offer to feed him? With a sigh he went to forage in the fridge.

The knock on the front door took him by surprise. He rarely had visitors here. He’d deliberately kept quiet about the place, wanting to keep it as a private bolt-hole. In fact apart from Lizzie, only three people knew he had it; the lady who looked after it for him, Sally and his sister. Please God let it be one of them and not more sodding journalists.

Though if He was listening, perhaps he could see to it that it wasn’t Sally? He really didn’t need that potential drama right now.

‘Charlotte.’ Relief flooded through him as he opened the door. ‘What on earth brings you here?’

‘Is that any way to greet your sister? Especially as she’s driven over an hour to get here.’ The pretty, smiling woman on the doorstep wagged her finger at him. ‘A big hug and the offer of a drink would be more appropriate, don’t you think?’

Laughing, he reached out and gave her the hug she’d demanded. Then he thought of Lizzie, who no longer had a sibling to wrap her arms around, and tightened his hold. As children they hadn’t been that close. Mainly because his aunt and uncle had demanded all Charlotte’s attention, leaving him the odd one out. There had been many times, in those early days, when he’d felt like he’d lost his sister, along with his parents. It was one of the reasons he hung around at Robert’s house so much. There, between his friend, Lizzie and their parents, he received the attention he missed out on at home. As time had moved on though, and Charlotte had grown older, her appeal to their aunt and uncle had waned. The picky teenager was far less interesting than the pretty toddler. Nick had tried to fill the hole they’d left, giving Charlotte his time, his attention, his love, and their bond had grown. As they’d moved into adulthood it was Charlotte who’d proved better at keeping in touch, at giving him her time. And her love.

‘You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here,’ he told her as he put the kettle on.

‘Well, there I was, catching up on the celebrity gossip in a terribly indiscrete newspaper, when I read that a certain leggy model, subject to a recent sex scandal, had returned to England and was hiding away somewhere in the country not too far from London.’ The mug he’d been holding slipped out of his hand and rolled dangerously close to the edge of the worktop. ‘I’m not sure if you know who I mean? Long blonde hair and a stunning smile? Someone you grew up with and had a rather large crush on, if I remember correctly.’

Nick snatched at the mug. ‘Thanks, Charlotte. And if you could dial your voice down from embarrassingly loud to a little more discreet, I’d be enormously grateful.’

‘Oops, sorry, I forgot your crush was always a secret, though why on earth you never told her, I don’t know. You were always so close.’

‘I never told her because she went off to effing America to become a bloody model, remember?’ he hissed, hoping Lizzie couldn’t hear. ‘Anyway, you’re right,’ he continued in a more normal voice. ‘Lizzie is staying with me at the moment, until this issue blows over.’

‘Poor thing. She must be seesawing between livid and humiliated.’

‘Actually, I couldn’t have put it better myself.’ Lizzie appeared in the doorway, surprising the heck out of both of them.

Nick died a few deaths but she didn’t look at him any differently than she did normally, so either she hadn’t overheard, please God, or she was going to be one hell of an actress.

Charlotte dashed towards her. ‘Lizzie, it’s good to see you again.’

There was an awkward moment, when neither seemed to know whether to hug or shake hands. They hadn’t seen all that much of each other, really. Nick had usually visited the Donavues alone. But clearly they felt they knew each other because when Lizzie reached out her arms to hug Charlotte, she hugged her warmly back. ‘It’s good to see you too, despite the circumstances.’

Turning to Nick, Charlotte gave him her winning, baby sister smile. ‘Be a sweetie and make me a drink. We girls need to catch up.’

It seemed like hours before Nick managed to manoeuvre his sister towards the front door. ‘Thanks for coming round,’ he said again, hoping this time she really was going to leave.

‘My pleasure. It’s not often I get to talk to a famous model.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I can see why you were so besotted.’

Nick felt the telltale flush creep over his face. Hell, shouldn’t he have grown out of this blushing habit by now? He tried to look away, but his sister had razor-sharp eyes.

‘Oh God, Nick, you’re still besotted, aren’t you?’

This time he physically moved away, walking out ahead and into the driveway, not giving her the opportunity to read the depth of his feelings in his eyes. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m helping out a friend in need, that’s all.’

‘And putting yourself through all kinds of torture in the process.’

He felt a pair of arms wind their way around his waist, forcing him to stop. How he wanted to deny the truth of her words, but he couldn’t. Not now she was standing in front of him, scrutinising his face for every trace of emotion. ‘What else am I supposed to do?’

‘You could tell her how you feel. You never know, she might feel the same way.’

He raised his eyes skywards. ‘We’re talking about a world famous supermodel here. Have you taken a good look at your brother recently?’

Charlotte looked him straight in the eye. ‘Yes. Have you taken a good look at Lizzie recently? She’s no different to the girl you hung around with, you know. Not inside. Why do you assume she’s more interested in flashing good looks than brains and personality?’

Amused, he cocked his head to one side. ‘I’m not sure whether to be insulted that I haven’t got the looks, or flattered that my sister thinks I’m smart and funny.’

Laughing she climbed into her car. ‘You’ve got it all, big brother of mine. Not only that, you’re a good man. Good enough for any woman you set your heart on, be it a brain surgeon, a princess or a supermodel.’

With his head feeling several inches wider, he waved Charlotte goodbye. As a gawky adolescent, trying to find his feet as a young man, he’d have given his eye teeth to hear such a compliment. Instead, all he’d ever heard was how he wasn’t good enough. He wondered if he’d ever be able to believe the words of his sister, over those of his uncle.

‘That was nice of Charlotte to come round.’ Lizzie was waiting in the kitchen when he came back into the house.

‘She probably just wanted a nosey.’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘No, she was looking out for you. She loves you so she wants to take care of you. That’s what siblings are for. I used to have that with Robert …’ Her words trailed off, and he ached for her.

‘Well, now you’ve got me,’ he replied roughly.

‘Even when I yell at you, like I did this morning?’

‘Yes, even then.’ You’ve got me forever, he wanted to shout, but despite his sister’s words, he knew he couldn’t. Maybe there would come a time when he’d be able to, but it certainly wasn’t now. She needed a friend, not another male complication. So he accepted the warm smile she gave him, and told himself it was enough.

They ate dinner on their laps in the living room, the conversation flowing easily between them once more. Nick was loath to break the harmony, but there was still a matter that needed to be dealt with.

He cleared his throat. ‘Lizzie, I need to ask you something. A delicate something.’

‘Go ahead,’ she replied easily. ‘There can’t be any more embarrassing conversations left for us to have, surely?’

‘Ah.’ He rubbed a hand across his chin and prayed the right words would come to him. ‘I mentioned yesterday that it would help if Dan could contact your previous, err, boyfriends, to give a character witness. It would be good if we could give him those names this evening, so he can move things along.’

Her fingers tightened on her wineglass. ‘Well, lucky me. It looks like I do get a further chance to humiliate myself. You know what, why don’t I tell you my favourite sexual positions as well, and be done with it.’

Briefly he shut his eyes and tried for calm. ‘I know this is embarrassing. It won’t surprise you to know I’m squirming over here, too, and all I’m doing is listening. Would it be easier to tell Dan directly? You know, someone who doesn’t know you personally?’

‘I’m a public figure, Nick. Telling anyone, whether it’s Dan or you, the names of previous boyfriends feels like kissing and telling. It’s sordid and cheap.’ Bleakly she looked at him. ‘Do you need to know everyone?’

Nick wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. He didn’t bloody want to know any of them, let alone all of them. And it wasn’t just because his toes were curling with embarrassment at it all. He didn’t think he could bear to be reminded of all the men who’d touched the body he wanted to touch. Who’d kissed the lips he longed to kiss. ‘No.’ His vocal chords sounded like they were being pulled out of his throat. ‘Only those you think would be happy to testify on your behalf.’

She fixed her eyes on a point over his left shoulder and took a deep breath. ‘Okay, in the last few years there was …’

She proceeded to reel off the names of one baseball player, and three leading actors. All of them A-list stars. All of them with big, flashy appearances and bad boy reputations. He wrote the names down grimly, his pen nearly scorching the paper with the ferocity of his scrawl. At least now he had a real feel for her taste. And it sure as hell wasn’t quiet, ordinary looking accountants.

When she’d finished, he scrambled to his feet, desperate to put some space between them. ‘I’ll give Dan a call with these names right away and let you know how it progresses.’

‘Thanks.’ Her eyes refused to look at him. They stared, unseeing, through the large barn windows and into the dark night. She looked so vulnerable, a reed thin figure on his huge, sprawling sofa. He wanted to comfort her, but right now he didn’t think he was strong enough. Not with the names of her past lovers burning a trail across his damn notebook.

‘Goodnight,’ he called out gruffly.

She didn’t reply.