Chapter Thirty

Lizzie knocked on the familiar rustic wooden door. It was ten o’clock on Sunday morning and she’d taken a punt on Nick being at the barn, rather than in London. After she’d finished the final show on Saturday she’d driven down to her parents’ home. Her home, now she’d bought it from Nick.

There she’d spent the night trying to work out what she was going to say to him, which was a laugh really, because she knew even if she’d had a week, instead of a night, she still wouldn’t know how to handle this meeting. It had been three days since Nick had admitted he loved her and then walked away. Three days during which she’d fretted about whether his version of love, and her version of love, meant the same thing.

The door creaked opened. ‘Lizzie?’

She watched as a flash of pleasure came and went in his deep brown eyes, leaving only confusion. He had the look of a man who’d just woken up, only to find he had a giant hangover. She could almost see his mind trying to grasp what was going on. Whether she was real or not. As she peered at him more closely, she realised her hunch about the hangover probably wasn’t far off the mark. His hair was mussed, his face drawn and badly in need of a shave. Those glorious brown eyes, on closer inspection, were bloodshot and exhausted.

‘You look terrible,’ she blurted. Instinctively she reached out to hug him, but he flinched, moving quickly into the hall.

‘It’s good to see you, too,’ he replied stiffly, moving aside to let her in.

A night to consider what she was going to say to him and the best she’d managed was you look terrible? She was a flipping genius. ‘Sorry, it’s just you look kind of tired.’ She let the sentence hang, knowing if she said anything further she was just going to dig herself an even bigger hole.

‘I had a late night.’

She walked straight past him and into the lounge, hyper aware of his long, lean body following quietly, a few steps behind. It felt ridiculous, all this stiff formality, the tension. Why couldn’t they just hug each other like they used to do? Like she so very much wanted to. ‘So I see,’ she replied instead, pointedly looking at the empty whiskey bottle and single glass. What was he trying to do? Drink himself to death?

Hastily he removed the evidence, throwing the bottle forcibly into the bin. ‘So, what brings you here?’ he asked, his restless eyes seeming to touch everywhere but her. ‘I thought you’d be on your way back to LA by now.’

‘I thought I’d take a break. Check up on the house.’

He nodded, thrusting a hand through his wayward hair, making it look even more dishevelled. ‘I would have gone in and checked it for you. You only had to ask.’

‘I know, but I’d already decided I was going to stay in England for a bit anyway.’

Silence hung between them. Lizzie wanted him to ask why, but he didn’t. Instead he stared down at his grey tracksuit bottoms and creased T-shirt, as if suddenly realising what a mess he looked.

‘Look, sorry, I wasn’t expecting any visitors.’ Finally he met her eyes, giving her a small, rueful smile. ‘I’m not quite with it. Do you mind if I grab a quick shower? I may act a bit more human after that.’ He indicated to the kitchen. ‘Make yourself at home. You know where everything is.’

For a moment he held her gaze, his expression telling her quite clearly he remembered the time she’d spent here, when it had been her home, too. As his look burned into hers, Lizzie’s shoulders relaxed. There, in his eloquent eyes, she’d seen all she needed to see. Her heart lifted and she started to smile, but he quickly turned and walked towards the stairs.

While Lizzie reacquainted herself with the kitchen, Nick tried to revive himself under the hot shower. Of all the times for her to pop in. She must think he was some heartbroken saddo, pining away for her. Which, okay, wasn’t far from the truth. But, hell, it wasn’t as if he broke into the whiskey every night. Just on those occasions after he’d accidentally blurted out his feelings to the woman he loved, only for her to stare back at him in shock.

Dragging on a pair of faded jeans and a navy polo shirt, he scrutinised himself in the mirror. It was bad enough she’d found out he was in love with her. He wasn’t going to humiliate himself further by giving her the impression he couldn’t live without her. Picking up his razor he shaved the stubble off his chin and then combed his damp hair into some sort of order. The face that stared back at him was still gaunt, bearing all the signs of a man who’d hardly slept the last three nights, but it was a definite improvement on fifteen minutes ago.

He took his time walking back downstairs, taking a few seconds to drink in the sight of his unexpected guest. She was curled up on his sofa, just where she used to sit. The last time she’d been here, they’d gone from friends to lovers. What were they now? Certainly not lovers, but not friends, either. Once more he cursed his weakness. He shouldn’t have slept with her. He’d known it would complicate matters and end in heartbreak. Being able to say I told you so wasn’t much of a consolation.

She looked up as she heard the stair creak and gave him a smile. One that reached into the depths of her stunning eyes and made his heart squeeze so painfully in his chest it pushed all the breath from his lungs. Transfixed, with every cell in his body crying out to him to run over and claim her, he stood on the final stair. She looked incredible. Unlike him, she definitely didn’t have the appearance of a woman who hadn’t been able to sleep. Quite the opposite, in fact. She was positively glowing with contentment, radiating happiness. ‘You look well.’ Inwardly he groaned. That was what you told an aged aunt, not a flaming supermodel.

Her eyebrows raised a fraction. ‘You told me that on Thursday, but thank you. Again.’

The silence stretched and Nick felt like he was wading through a deep bog. Every step he took made him sink further.

‘I made you a cup,’ she told him, indicating the mug on the table.

‘Thanks.’ His voice sounded scratchy and he coughed to clear his throat, taking up a place on the sofa opposite her. ‘So how long are you going to be in England?’

She smiled and took a sip of tea. ‘That depends.’

Was it his imagination, or was she acting coy? ‘On what?’

‘On how long the man I’m in love with wants me to stay.’

For a few desperate seconds, time stood still. He wanted to be mistaken, to have misheard her somehow, but the soft look in her eyes told him he hadn’t. ‘Oh, I didn’t realise you’d met someone new.’ He struggled to sound normal, and not like a man whose heart was being trampled on. ‘I thought you said you were too busy for men.’

‘I haven’t. Met anyone new, that is.’

‘Oh.’ This wasn’t making any sense. His tired, dazed brain couldn’t work it out. Then a cold shiver ran up his spine. ‘Bloody hell, it’s not Hank, is it?’

If Nick’s face hadn’t looked so anguished, Lizzie would have burst out laughing. ‘Hank? God, no. Give me credit for having some sense.’

‘Good. Because you deserve a damn sight better than a man like him.’

He said it with such utter conviction, her heart turned to goo and she couldn’t seem to stop grinning. ‘You know there was a time, not that long ago, when I wouldn’t have believed that statement.’

He stared at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that for a couple of years after the accident I didn’t think I deserved love and happiness, or a man who could give me both.’ She moved forward so she could perch on the edge of the sofa and look directly into his eyes. ‘I didn’t think I deserved you.’

‘Me?’ He gaped at her in open-mouthed astonishment. ‘You didn’t think you deserved me?’ he repeated, clearly confused. ‘How the hell did you work that one out?’

‘I figured I wasn’t allowed to be happy when my parents were dead. Especially when I was the one who—’

‘Stop that,’ he cut in forcefully. ‘We’ve been through this. You didn’t have anything to do with their deaths. You loved them. They knew that, just as they loved you.’

‘I know.’ She put the mug down on the table, her hands trembling too much to hold it. ‘Thanks to you, and the lovely psychiatrist I’ve been talking to, I’ve finally begun to accept that. I’d been so wrapped up in my own thoughts, I’d forgotten to see things from their side. As you pointed out, they would have wanted me to be happy. I’m not just paying lip service when I say I know that now. I’ve always known it, but somewhere along the line I lost sight of it for a while.’

‘And are you happy?’ His voice was rough with the emotion he was clearly trying to keep contained. ‘Does this man you love make you happy?’

His face was so earnest, his eyes blazing with a love he couldn’t hide, but there was also anguish. He really didn’t have a clue. ‘He would make me happy, if he stopped staring at me and kissed me instead.’

For a second he looked baffled. Then she had the satisfaction of seeing the truth finally dawn. Anguish and confusion left his eyes, astonishment and wonder filling their place. ‘Lizzie, I … I don’t know what to say.’

‘You don’t need to say anything.’

Before Nick had a chance to think, to work out the implications of what she’d just told him, she was sitting on his lap, her hands round his neck. His response was sharp and immediate. In a kind of mesmerised trance he watched her lips descend onto his and her hands drift under his shirt, running over his chest. He groaned out loud at their touch. Shifting so he could have better access to her, he pulled apart her blouse, revealing a sheer lace bra. Could she have worn anything sexier? Anything more capable of sending him hurtling into a frenzy of desire? But even as he fumbled for the clasp, a part of his brain was holding up a red flag, warning him to stop. As his body clamoured to get closer to her, to lose himself in her, his mind was dragging him back to reality.

‘Ahh, Lizzie.’ He gently pushed her back. ‘I’m going to hate myself forever, but I can’t do this.’

He felt her stiffen. ‘What is it? At the fashion show you told your sister you loved me.’ Pain clouded her eyes. ‘Weren’t you telling her the truth?’

‘Are you out of your mind?’ He gaped at her. ‘Lizzie, I’ve loved you all my life. I was in love with you when you were too young to understand what love was all about.’ He caught her face in his hands. ‘I still love you. I will always love you.’

‘Then what’s the problem?’

‘I can’t do another fling,’ he admitted brokenly. ‘I love you so damn much, more than you’ll ever know, but I’m sorry, I can’t go there again. The last one nearly killed me.’ Gently he smoothed at a stray lock of her hair, wondering how he could sit here and turn her down. But she’d made him greedy. Made him want more. ‘I want forever, Lizzie, not just a few stolen weeks between your modelling commitments.’

Her eyes cleared and she beamed back at him. ‘Blimey, is that all? Why on earth do you think I’m here? That’s what I want, too. I’m not going back to LA. I’m moving back to England. I was rather hoping it was going to be with you.’

His hands were trembling so much he had to clasp them together. She’d finally said what he wanted to hear, but after all this time, he had trouble believing it. ‘Lizzie, oh God.’ He shook his head, hoping it would help him to think clearly. ‘You know how I feel about you, but you need to think very hard about this. Your life is over there. I don’t want you giving it up just to be with me.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because modelling has always been your dream. You love the drama, the excitement, the razzmatazz. If you gave all that up, in time you’d resent it. You’d resent me.’

‘I’ve lived the dream, Nick. And, yes, for a while it was fun and I had a ball. But that part of my life is over now. I don’t enjoy it any more. I haven’t for quite a while now.’

He looked at her in surprise. ‘Then why have you carried on?’

‘Because it’s all I knew. Robert’s care was expensive and I couldn’t see a way of me earning enough money from anything else. I don’t have any qualifications. All I have is a photographic face.’

Gently he cradled her face in his hands. ‘I’ve told you before, there’s a damn sight more to you than just a face.’

Her eyes softened. ‘You always did have faith in me.’

‘Because I see you, Lizzie Donavue.’ He fixed her with his gaze, hoping she could see his sincerity, his utter belief in her. ‘Not just your beauty, but you.’

She gave him a tremulous smile, her hands reaching up to grip his. ‘You know I told you about the acting lessons? Well, I’ve been given a role in a film being shot this summer. In England.’

His heart jumped. ‘Seriously?’

‘I’ve been lucky,’ she added hastily. ‘Catherine recommended me. She’s starring in the film. I’m going to play her wayward daughter.’

‘But that’s fantastic.’ He hoped she could hear the pride in his voice.

She must have done, because she beamed back at him. ‘I’m yours forever, Nick, if you want me.’

He rained kisses down her nose, across her cheeks. ‘You need to be sure, Lizzie. I’ve let you disappear out of my life too many times already. Once I’ve got you, I’ll never let you go.’

‘I’m banking on it.’

‘And what about the fact that I’m not your type? That I’m, what did you say back in LA, too nice?’ And why the hell wasn’t he just taking her at her word and grabbing her with open arms? Why was he giving her this chance to doubt herself?

She snuggled closer onto his lap and squeezed him tight. ‘You’ve always been my type. You say you’ve loved me all your life, but I’ve loved you all my life, too.’ When he was about to interrupt, she placed a finger on his lips, stopping him. ‘I have. Why do you think I wanted you to be my first lover?’

‘But, I thought—’

‘I know. You were wrong. It wasn’t just something I wanted to cross off my to-do list. I didn’t just want any man. I wanted you. I may have been too young to really understand the concept, but I loved you, Nick.’

He cursed, loudly, at the wasted years, but Lizzie simply smiled. ‘Perhaps I needed those years to experiment, to grow and work out what I really wanted in life. And now I know. I want a man who’ll give, and not just take. Who’ll be there for me, no matter what mess I might get myself into, and I get into quite a lot, as you’ve seen. One who’ll tell me when I’m being stupid, who’ll be calm when I’m being irrational. A strong, solid man who can see through the image of Elizabeth Donavue, right down to the real me. And who loves me anyway.’

She didn’t let him speak, which was just as well. He was far too choked to say anything. Instead, still sitting astride his lap, she lowered her mouth to his. His mind was now so full, his head was in danger of exploding. Barely half an hour ago he’d been a broken man, wondering how he was going to pick up the pieces of his life without her. Now, here she was. Not just his friend, but his passionate, wonderful lover. One who wanted to spend the rest of her life here, with him.

He groaned as she rubbed her body against him.

‘Can we do this now?’ she whispered huskily in his ear.

‘Hell, yes.’ He would have loved to have lifted her gently into his arms and carried her manfully upstairs to his bed, but that wasn’t going to happen. ‘I’m afraid,’ he muttered thickly as he struggled to undo her trousers, ‘this is going to be over far too quickly.’

Making quick work of undoing his zipper, she laughed softly against his neck. ‘That’s okay. You have a lifetime to make it up to me.’

Lizzie was home and she’d never felt happier. Forget the adrenaline high of a fashion show or a perfume launch. Lying in bed, next to the man she loved, was a million times better. She smiled as she watched him sleep. He’d admitted, somewhere between the second and third time they’d made love, that he hadn’t slept much since he’d left her in LA all those months ago. Thankfully his face looked less drawn now, more at peace. What a gorgeous face it was, she thought, as she traced the outline of his strong jaw and his lovely straight nose. But it was the man inside that was the most beautiful part of him. He gave her laughter, security, peace. If she had to sum it up in one word, it would be contentment. With him, she didn’t feel the need to do anything. She was happy to just be. Coming back to England had been the easiest decision she’d ever had to make. Especially after she’d found the note in her mother’s diary.

Suddenly realising she hadn’t shown Nick yet, Lizzie scampered out of bed and rummaged round her handbag. Clasping the diary to her, she leapt back into bed.

‘What on earth?’ Nick opened an eye.

‘Sorry, but I wanted to show you this.’ She thrust the bookmarked page under his bleary eyes. ‘I’ve been reading through all my mother’s diaries. Please read out what she wrote on my twenty-first birthday.’

Nick struggled to sit up and focus his eyes. Frowning, he looked down at the neatly written page. ‘My darling daughter looks stunning today,’ he started, then grinned sideways at her. ‘Obviously such a rare occasion she needed to mention it in her diary.’

Lizzie thumped him on the arm. ‘Keep reading.’

‘She seems really happy,’ he continued, smirking slightly. ‘I’m sure modelling is everything she dreamt it would be. If only she would stop cavorting with all these slick, young Americans. She’s brought another one out with her tonight. He’s all white teeth, square jaw, and boundless confidence.’ Nick stopped to pull a face at her, but when his eyes skimmed over the next few sentences, the amusement left his eyes and his voice turned husky. ‘I wish Lizzie could see how wrong this man is for her. I wish she could see the real gem that’s right under her nose. Dear Nick, who is so clearly in love with her. I hope one day they will find each other.’

Listening to him read out her mother’s words, tears welled once more in Lizzie’s eyes.

‘She called me a gem.’ Nick looked like he was having trouble holding back the tears, too.

‘Of course she did. She always knew a diamond was this girl’s best friend.’

He let out a bark of laughter. ‘That’s a terrible pun.’

Lizzie reached to kiss him. ‘I know, but it’s also true. Best friend and lover. A girl can’t ask for more.’ She glanced down at her ring finger. ‘Except perhaps a real diamond.’

Another burst of laughter rumbled through him as he carefully put the diary on the bedside table. ‘Your subtlety is just one of the many things I love about you.’ Before she could ask him to list some others, he placed a finger on her lips. ‘I’ll get you that diamond, Lizzie Donavue. But first, we have a lot of catching up to do.’

And with that, he pressed his mouth against hers, very effectively silencing her.

* The End *

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