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Following him, Carla saw heads turn as he joined the wedding party. Handshakes and kisses were exchanged with the bride and groom. Then he was turning towards her once more. Icy eyes locked on hers as he held out his hand to her. But within the depths, Carla caught an edgy vulnerability, a faint light that attempted to jump-start her hopes. Carla berated herself for reading signs where there were none.
His jaw turned to granite at her hesitation.
‘For heaven’s sake, Carla. If you don’t grab onto that and hold on with everything you’ve got, I damn well will.’
The exasperated whisper came from beside her. She looked down to see Maria glaring at her. ‘Go, dammit.’
She went. Not because she truly believed there was something to grab onto. But because before her heart shrivelled up and deserted her for the final time, she wanted to touch Javier. Selfishly feel his vibrant skin against hers one last time.
His fingers closed over hers and her blood kicked back into her veins.
This is an illusion. This is temporary.
Everything about this is temporary.
But she took her seat next to him at the great wedding feast. Clinked glasses with him for the wedding toast. Smashed plates and applauded Draco and Rebel’s first dance.
Javier didn’t offer to dance with her after all. Which was just as well. Her heart had dropped to her toes by the time Rebel left to change for her honeymoon trip.
‘Excuse me,’ she murmured, then fled before Javier could stop her.
She found Draco momentarily alone in one corner of the many terraces that graced his multi-storeyed island villa.
‘Draco.’
He turned, his smile blisteringly radiant, before he frowned. Catching her by the arm, he drew his thumb down her cheek. ‘Carla, are you all right?’
She blinked back tears that had been clogged in her throat for hours. ‘Please, don’t worry about me. Today belongs to you. I’ll find my own way to be okay. I promise.’
His frown deepened. ‘Carla...’
She stood on tiptoe and hastily placed a kiss on his cheek. ‘Give my love to Rebel.’
Turning, she found Javier standing six feet away. The bleakness that lanced his features tore at her. Again hope threatened to rise.
But she was tired. And battered.
She walked past him, through the ballroom overlooking sheer cliffs and a glorious sunset. She heard him behind her but didn’t stop until she reached the lift. He entered after her, staying on one side of the small car, his arms folded as he stared straight ahead.
It was only as she stood beneath the pillared courtyard awaiting the buggy that would take her to the chopper reserved to fly guests back to the mainland that he spoke.
‘Where have you been these past few weeks, Carla?’
She contemplated silence. Talking was dangerous. It fed an urge to reveal innermost desires that had no chance of birth, never mind growth. But this was a safe subject that had nothing to do with her breaking heart. ‘My mother bought a cottage near Maidstone, on the English coast where she grew up. She left it to me. I put it on the market when my father...when I thought I’d need the funds. Three weeks ago the agents contacted me with an offer. I came down with the intention to clear it out.’
‘But you decided a cottage in the middle of nowhere was the perfect hiding spot?’
‘I wasn’t hiding.’
The buggy arrived. He helped her into it, then took his place next to her. From shoulder to thigh, their bodies connected. Carla lost the power of speech. And Javier didn’t seem inclined to continue their conversation as they were driven towards the aircraft area.
When the buggy started to slow down beside the chopper, Javier tapped the valet on the shoulder. ‘Take us to the airstrip.’
‘But I’m going to the mainland to catch my flight back to England.’
His mouth flattened. ‘You can catch a flight with me. Or we can talk on my plane before you catch your flight. Either way, we’re talking.’
‘Javier, this is pointless.’
