Page 91 of Unapologetic Love Story

Raina was in real danger.

The boat was beginning to dock in Putney and Raina let out a sigh of relief. She was feeling a little unwell and it had nothing to do with the slight rocking of the vessel. The crew were readying the gangplank and Raina moved to get off. She felt Tom follow her.

‘Stay,’ she told him delicately. ‘It’s fine, stay. Enjoy your friends. Celebrate.’

He looked worried now. Examining her with fearful concentration. ‘Raina, what’s wrong? Let me come with you.’

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ she said, knowing it wasn’t a completely honest answer. ‘It’s just late.’

‘Exactly. I don’t want you out late, on your own.’

It was all getting a smidge too serious. She needed some escape from him because she was starting to feel the dangerous flickers of adoration. She needed to be with herself and remember how ‘enough’ that had felt before getting into bed with him.

She wasn’t going to let Tom Branimir become her new fixation.

Tom remained halfway on the boat and halfway off it. He watched Raina disappear from view and every instinct he had wanted to follow her. He was about to disembark and do exactly that when Ottie called his name once again.

‘What exactly is going on?’ she asked, as he moved slightly closer to the boat once again. They were clearly staying moored in Putney for a short while, the crew readying to sail east.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Are you pretending to go out with her to get more dirt for your story?’

Engagement party or not, Tom wasn’t about to let that go. ‘How dare you, Ottie.’

He said it so quietly, so flatly, it made her flinch.

‘Well, what am I supposed to think? You’d do anything for a story; you’ve always said that.’

‘I don’t particularly care what you think.’

‘You like her?’

‘Enormously. More than like.’

Ottie opened and closed her mouth. Her gaze jerked to the pier, where Raina had last been seen. ‘I’m confused. I thought she was your work assignment.’

‘She was.’

‘And she knows that?’

Tom was surprised by the question. Almost hopeful about the progress it showed. Perhaps Ottie was at last displaying loyalty to her own sex; it would be a massive breakthrough for her.

‘It’s your party, Ottie. Why are you here talking to me?’

He knew the sad answer. She was here because Tom was the only one who would really talk to her. Seb was holding court with his lackeys and friends; almost everyone was here for him. Ottie had become a beautiful accessory. Someone who walked one step behind him. Tom often wondered if the loud, bolshy girl she’d been in their Cambridge days had always planned for this sort of life.

‘Congratulations, again,’ he said, nudging her.

Her demeanour softened by a margin, but she was still staring at the dock. ‘You look like you’re falling in love with her.’

Tom didn’t answer at first. There was a strange energy around the question.

‘You were never like this with Fern,’ Ottie went on. ‘And, God, with Mandy, the two of you always looked like co-workers.’

Tom blustered out a laugh at that. It might have been the most observant thing Ottie had ever said. ‘You can’t tell much about a couple by looking at them.’

‘You broke up though, didn’t you?’