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A little while later they were showered and dressed, eating croissants and coffee from room service. ‘Any plans today?’ Ben asked Olivia, and she shook her head.

‘No, thankfully, I’ve got a day off from schmoozing.’

‘I thought you liked the schmoozing.’

She shook her head as she broke a croissant in half. ‘I never liked it, but I understand it’s necessary.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘And I’ve always been willing to do just about whatever it takes to succeed in this cut-throat business.’ Her gaze met his. ‘Even pretend to have a boyfriend.’

‘Well, if you don’t have any plans today, what about doing a little sightseeing with me? I’ve been in Berlin for two weeks and I haven’t seen much outside of The Chatsfield.’

Ben watched as a smile blossomed across Olivia’s face. ‘I’d love that,’ she said, and he felt the same kind of smile spread across his own face. Such a small and simple thing...and yet he felt so damn happy.

Even though he knew it couldn’t last.

* * *

An hour later they walked hand in hand along the terrace of Babelsburg Palace, in the quaint town of Potsdam, a little ways outside Berlin. In February the extensive landscaped gardens were stark and bare, but Olivia could still see the beauty of them, along with the Tudor-inspired palace built by Kaiser Wilhelm. The terraces were scattered with interesting mosaics and sculptures, and they passed a pleasant hour wandering around, chatting about what they saw and enjoying the wintry sunshine.

After they’d seen the palace they retired to one of the many cafés lining Tieckstrasse, sipping espresso and enjoying the warmth.

It had been such an easy, happy day, the kind of day Ben hadn’t experienced in for ever. Not as a kid, when he’d been trying so hard to make everything better. Not in the fourteen years since he’d left home, when he’d been bottling up all his emotions, refusing to let anything out, even anything good. And feeling it now, with Olivia, made him realise how precious and important it was.

And in light of that, in the reality of her sitting across from him, blowing on her coffee, her hair curling about her face, his anger was no more than a stumbling block he was ready to cross. He would turn it into a stepping stone.

‘I’ve been angry at Spencer,’ he said, blurting the words, surprising both of them. ‘My big brother.’

Her lovely brown eyes widened and she lowered her coffee cup, gazed at him with so much trust and confidence his chest hurt. ‘Tell me,’ she said quietly.

‘I told you I was the peacemaker growing up,’ he began, feeling for the words, because these realisations were about as new to him as they were to her. ‘Always trying to make everybody happy. Always trying to smooth over the arguments.’

‘But you couldn’t,’ Olivia guessed, and he nodded.

‘Because it was all a lie. My parents didn’t get along because they were both having affairs that they covered up. And my father...my father didn’t like Spencer because he wasn’t his biological son.’

Olivia’s mouth dropped open then, and Ben managed a wry, humourless smile. ‘I was shocked too, when I found out.’ Shocked and heartbroken.

‘And that was when you were eighteen, wasn’t it?’ she said, and he nodded, both stunned and gratified by her perception.

‘My father told me when he was in one of his rages. Drunk too, I think. I couldn’t believe it. All this time thinking if I just tried a little harder, we could be a happy family. It was never going to happen.’

‘And so you left.’

‘It was an impulsive, reckless thing to do, but I didn’t know how I could stay. I’d never kept anything from Spencer, and I knew this would destroy him. He’d poured everything into trying to please our—well, my father. Wanting to work for The Chatsfield.’

‘And you left so he wouldn’t find out.’

Ben nodded, his throat turning tight. Olivia leaned forward, her expression so full of compassion that Ben’s throat went even tighter. ‘So why are you angry at Spencer, Ben?’

‘Because...because he never came and found me.’ God, he sounded so pathetic, like a whingey little boy. ‘Because he let me leave, like I didn’t matter to him. And maybe I didn’t, because when he came and found me a couple of weeks ago, he told me he’s known he’s illegitimate for five years.’ He heard the naked hurt in his voice and closed his eyes briefly. ‘But I’m just as angry at myself, for being so stupid. For trying so hard for so long when there was no point. For caring so much I had to do this great, noble act that was just...useless.’ He shook his head. ‘For sacrificing myself for my family, and they didn’t even care. And,’ he finished, trying for wryness, ‘for being such a prat about it all, whinging about how nobody loves me.’ There. He’d said it all. It felt both good and horrible to be so honest. So vulnerable. And he knew he wouldn’t take back a single word...but he wished Olivia would say something in return.

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