Chapter Seven

When Lizzie walked down to the kitchen the next morning, Nick was nowhere to be seen. She knew he wasn’t in bed, because he’d left the door to his room wide open. The king-sized bed was rumpled but empty and there had been no sound of a shower. For the briefest of moments she wondered if he’d decided to drive into the office to avoid talking to her about his late night chat with Dan, but when she looked out of the window his car was still on the drive. It was then she noticed the lone runner, making his way across the fields towards the barn. Even from a distance, she could tell it was him. A tall, rangy figure dressed in T-shirt and shorts. The sight made her smile. He’d never been one for all the gear, something that had always amused her and Robert. Here was a man who did so much exercise he needed the lycra leggings and climate control vests, yet he was happier wearing tatty T-shirts and shorts, leaving the latest athletic fashions to the fair weather joggers.

She opened the door for him and he stood on the step, panting slightly. About the same way she panted when she walked up the stairs. ‘Morning.’

He eyed up her dressing gown clad figure. ‘Morning, sleepyhead. When are you going to get up early enough to come and join me?’

Her eyes strayed to his legs. Used to seeing male legs smothered with fake tan and waxed hairless, Nick’s were a novelty. Pale and covered in a fine layer of dark hair, they were muscular and most definitely male. ‘It all depends on how far, and how fast, you’re planning on going.’ Reluctantly she shifted her gaze back to his face.

‘Worried it won’t be fast enough or far enough?’

‘Of course.’ Both of them knew she was lying.

‘Well, come out with me tomorrow and I’ll try and keep up with you.’ He bent down to yank off his trainers. When he stood back up, his expression was serious. ‘I’ll grab a quick shower and we can talk over breakfast.’

As she watched his retreating back, the tension returned to her stomach once more. Perhaps he’d been right to keep this stuff to himself. At least he’d given her yesterday.

By the time Nick came back down, freshly showered and changed into black jeans and a black T-shirt, Lizzie had managed to scramble together a pot of tea and several rounds of toast.

‘Does the dark attire have any bearing on what you’re about to say?’ she remarked as she poured out the tea.

He glanced down at his clothes. ‘I can assure you I have enough trouble finding tops that match bottoms, without having to factor in matching them to my mood.’ Sliding effortlessly onto a stool, he reached for a mug. ‘You’re getting good at breakfast, Lizzie. Maybe soon you’ll be proficient enough to move onto lunch.’

She sat down opposite him and glared. ‘Ha ha. If you want me to continue to make breakfast, I suggest you rapidly change the conversation. We can start with what on earth you and Dan were talking about last night?’

‘Fair enough.’ He took a huge mouthful of toast and Lizzie was forced to wait while he chewed then swallowed. ‘I told you when we were in Los Angeles that we’d clear your name. Before we start, I need you to understand that no matter what it takes, that is what we’re going to do.’

She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again when she saw the fierce determination flaring in his eyes. Somewhere in her chest, her heart lifted and lodged itself near her windpipe.

‘Okay,’ he continued, stretching his hands out in front of him, as if he was getting down to business. ‘Here is where we’re at. Your attorney, Daniel Rutherford, otherwise known as Dan the Man—’

She nearly choked on her toast. ‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously. The guy’s a legend. Anyway, he’s been working on a few angles he’d hoped would provide the police with sufficient evidence to nail Charles, aka, the bastard.’ Nick’s face turned sombre. ‘Disappointment number one, it appears nobody at the bar remembers you acting oddly or appearing drugged. The guy on the reception desk remembers you, Charles and another guy coming to get a key for the hotel room, but only because he recognised your face. He said you seemed perfectly happy and he had no reason to think there was anything unusual going on.’

The toast she was chewing started to taste like cardboard. How could she not remember willingly going to that hotel room? Willingly having sex with two men? Not just willingly but, according to the pictures, happily.

‘Hey, are you all right?’

Nick reached across the breakfast bar and held her hand. Clearing her throat she brought her mind back to the here and now. ‘Yes, sorry. For a moment I started to think back.’

He swore and clutched her hand tighter. ‘That’s exactly why I didn’t want to discuss this with you yesterday, or last night. I wanted you to have time to be you again. Without all this crap getting in the way.’

‘I know, but I can’t continue to put my head in the sand. It’s my life we’re talking about. The real one, not the fantasy one I’m living here.’

Point taken. Sadly Nick let go of her hand. For the first time he acknowledged his desire not to mention this yesterday hadn’t been entirely selfless. He, too, hated the reminder of her life in LA. Of what that git had done to her. He wished instead of talking about this, he could sweep her into his arms and take her to bed. Make both of them forget everything. But that was his fantasy, and the likelihood of it happening was about the same as him winning the London marathon. On one leg. Dressed as a flamingo.

‘Okay. Where was I?’ He took a swig of his tea and tried to collect his thoughts. ‘Dan managed to acquire the original photographs from the newspaper group and gave them to the police for fingerprinting. Disappointment number two, it seems there were so many prints on them there was no hope of getting a match with anyone.’ The hand that had been holding her mug jerked and Nick kicked himself. ‘Sorry, that was pretty tactless.’

She gave him a wan smile. ‘Don’t worry. It’s not like it’s only the newspaper staff who’ve seen the photos, is it? They’ve been in all the papers, splashed all over the internet. Probably somebody, somewhere, is eating fish and chips off them. I hope it doesn’t spoil their appetite.’

At that, Nick had to chuckle. ‘It won’t put any men off their appetite, trust me. Far from it.’

Her cheeks instantly turned red. ‘I don’t want to think of hoards of men lusting over pictures like that. It’s different when I’m modelling. Then I’m acting the part of the model, Elizabeth Donavue. And wearing clothes, damn it.’ She jumped to her feet and began to load the dishwasher, clattering the plates into each other.

Shit. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered inadequately. ‘When they dished out sensitivity, I must have been at the back of the queue.’

‘No. I probably just got a double dose. I need to develop a thicker skin.’ She slammed the dishwasher door shut. ‘So, where do we go from here?’

He tried not to wince, telling himself the machine was probably still under warranty. ‘Where did you get Charles’s name from? Was he recommended? I mean as a personal trainer,’ he added hastily, tugging a reluctant smile from her.

‘He’s been on the scene for the last few years. Loads of actresses use him and some of the models I work with, so, yes, he was recommended. What are you thinking?’

‘It seems odd to me that this man, who has presumably been working with other women at least as wealthy as you, suddenly decided to target you for money. What if you weren’t the first woman he’d blackmailed? What if he’d already played the same trick on some of the others, but they paid up, rather than risk the exposure?’

Lizzie, who’d moved to taking out her anger on the work surface, stopped scrubbing at it for long enough to glance at him. ‘It’s a thought,’ she replied slowly, ‘but wouldn’t they have warned me off?’

Nick shrugged. ‘Maybe that was all part of the deal. They paid up, kept quiet and recommended him to other clients. He promised to keep the sordid photographs out of the papers.’

‘It seems like a stretch. Then again, in LA a lot of things seem too incredible to be real. What’s the plan? Ask Dan to interview every woman who’s used Charles?’

‘Why not? If you can list the names of those you know had him as a personal trainer, Dan can start from there.’ Unable to resist, he reached over to frame her lovely face with his hands. ‘Help him nail the creep, Lizzie.’

Her big eyes widened as they stared into his and his heart seemed to stall. What was going on behind those huge blue windows of hers? Was she, too, thinking how wonderful it felt to have this connection? To feel skin on skin for a few precious moments? Or did she want him to get his big hulking hands off her delicate face?

The ring tone from his phone crashed into the moment and with a sigh he delved into his pocket to answer it. ‘Templeton.’ Mouthing write that list at Lizzie, he walked slowly back to his study.

He worked there for the rest of the morning, wandering down once to fetch a drink, only to find Lizzie gazing out of the window, seemingly lost in thought. Did she see the daffodils bobbing in the breeze, or was she seeing those blasted photographs? He wished to God he knew.

Finally it was lunchtime and he headed straight for the kitchen, reaching gratefully for the sandwiches she’d pulled together, and even more gratefully for the large mug of caffeine-filled coffee sitting next to them. Following the awkwardness of his conversations last night – first Dan, then Lizzie overhearing him with Dan, rounding it all off with Sally, and Lizzie overhearing that – he hadn’t had much sleep. Lizzie sat down quietly opposite him.

‘How’s the list going?’

‘I’ve left it on the coffee table.’

She looked so down. Vulnerable, too, though he knew she wasn’t nearly as fragile as she appeared. His conscience pricked, reminding him there was something they hadn’t spoken about since the funeral. A rather large something that weighed heavily on his mind. Now was as good a time as any to stop cosseting her, as she would put it, and face up to it.

‘Lizzie, there’s something I want to show you this afternoon.’

She stopped chewing and quirked an eyebrow. ‘Really? That sounds exciting.’

He pushed his empty plate to the side. ‘I’m not sure exciting is the right word for it. In fact, I’m pretty certain it isn’t. It’s going to involve a car journey.’

‘Do I get to know where to, or is that all part of the mystery?’

As her eyes danced, clearly amused, Nick wanted to put his head in his hands and howl. Why had he set it up this way? Like some blasted adventure, when he knew damn well as soon as she realised where they were going, it was going to cut her in two. Then again, if he told her, she’d never get in the car. ‘You’ll find out where we’re headed soon enough.’

Lizzie sat beside him in the car, still wearing the air of a schoolgirl going on an outing. Nick gritted his teeth and concentrated on driving the route he knew off by heart. It was another beautiful day, hardly a cloud in the sky, but for once the sun failed to lift his spirits. The further he drove, the more he doubted the advisability of what he was doing, and the heavier the feeling of dread in his stomach. He should have waited longer. She was still a long way from recovering from a traumatic episode in her life. It was hardly the time to remind her of another, even more horrific one.

‘Oh my God. You’re taking me home, aren’t you?’ Lizzie’s voice trembled as her eyes caught sight of the signpost to the village she’d grown up in.

‘It’s about time, Lizzie.’ And it was, but his stomach clenched as he realised it was highly likely she was going to hate him for what he’d done. At the very least, she’d never trust him again.