“Stop,” she says softly. “You were overwrought. You worked against your feelings instead of with them, that’s all.”
We’ve talked a lot about what passed between Mitch and her. And what came after. We’ve gone over the similarities in ourexperiences and how easily a betrayal, a loss of trust, leads to a cloud in judgment. It can make you feel like you’ll never trust again—yourself or anyone else.
There isn’t much we haven’t shared. I’ve told her about my parents, the roots of this erosion. And she’s confided how she wishes she could take back all that passed between her and Oliver.
“He’d be a fool not to listen.” Lucy is so kind. Beautiful, serene, wicked funny too. She has this openness about her. I’d be lucky to call her a friend.Or a sister?
I found her email address on her company website while I was hiding out in Dubai. I reached out, not quite sure what to expect and already regretting leaving the way I did. I don’t know what I was expecting. Certainly not understanding or friendship.
“Maybe you should come with me?”
“And play gooseberry?” she laughs. “No thanks.”
“That might be a little optimistic. He might throw me out.”
“Doubtful. It sounds like my brother is head over heels for you. And I think you’re just the person to keep him on his toes.”
“But what if—”
“Eve, love doesn’t just go when your physical presence removes itself. It’s just a hiccup, and hardly surprising, given your natures.”
“Meaning what?”
“That you’re both as stubborn as a box of rocks. Enough worrying. Tell me about your day. Mine was a nightmare of numbers and boring talk. Paint some color for me.”
“Oh, I’ve got color. Green for the bushland to get to some remote village. Blue for triage and surgery tents we erected. Then there was a lot of red and brown after that, but I’ll leave the sources to your imagination.”
Her nose scrunches. “No puppies?”
“I filled my quota of puppy cuddling. Then I neutered a half dozen village strays.”
“Did you think about anyone in particular while doing so?”
“Like Mitch?” I shake my head. “I don’t get howdogcan be a human insult. I’ve met more dogs I like than humans.”
“You have a point, but I do think he should be neutered. As a preventative measure, if nothing else.”
Before I can answer, a commotion starts up outside. The roar of an engine, the barking of dogs. Raised voices?
“Hold that thought,” I say, pointing a thumb over my shoulder. “I need to see what’s going on outside.”
“What if it’s trouble—the rebels or whatever they call them?”
But rebels don’t have posh English accents.
Chapter 49
OLIVER
I press my hands to my hips and arch my back, which has more kinks than Fin, currently. With a murmur of thanks, I nod at Ronald, my driver. Not that he’s paying attention as he stares at his newly acquired Patek Philippe. But at least we’re here.
Unless I’m about to be sold to criminals.
I wonder if anyone would pay the ransom?
“Oliver?”
My head snaps right, and oh, what a sight. Eve stands in the doorway of a ramshackle hut, a million emotions flickering and fading across her face, none of them settling. She looks so lovely, her face dappled with freckles she didn’t have before, her hair more golden than red, even in the fading light.
