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‘Everything’s fine. I was just thinking about the party,’ she lied. ‘About what to wear.’
It wasn’t a complete lie. Last night, when Charlie had been putting Archie to bed, she had tried on every single item of clothing she had brought to Macau and each one had looked worse than the one before.
The blue embroidered kaftan she had thought looked bohemian in London looked shabby and badly made, the white shirt dress made her look like an off-duty nurse, and the striped jumpsuit she had been planning to wear had just brought back memories of those first few weeks of Archie’s life last year, when Della had been so excited and full of plans for the future.
When Della had been alive to be excited about anything.
But today was Archie’s birthday. It was supposed to be the happiest of days. A day of celebration and joy. And Dora would make sure that it was all of those things. Only, for her, it would be as much about what, or rather who, wouldn’t be there.
And not just today. This was the first of many milestones her sister would never get to see. More than anything she wanted to do it right—the way Della would have wanted it done—and that meant presents and cake and blowing out candles.
And singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Archie.
Her throat tightened against the panic that had been flapping helplessly inside her chest like an injured bird ever since she’d agreed with Charlie that she would sing at the party. She could sing under her breath, at home, and on her own with Archie—but even thinking about singing in front of other people made her want to throw up.
She knew she was being stupid—it wasn’t as if she was about to go on stage in front of an audience of screaming fans—but it didn’t seem to make any difference, telling herself that.
‘Maybe we should go upstairs. You could give me a preview,’ said Charlie, the pupils of his eyes flaring. ‘It might help you make up your mind.’
His fingers moved up her arm, his thumb catching the side of her breast, and she felt her skin catch fire. Until Charlie, she had never known that just being close to someone could hollow her out with longing. Or that the lightest touch of a hand—his hand—could make warmth fill that hollowed-out space.
‘That’s why you want to go upstairs? To help me choose what to wear.’
She smiled, and after a moment he smiled too.
‘I don’t need to go upstairs to do that.’
His arm curled around her waist and her heart jumped.
‘As far as I’m concerned you should wear as little as possible—nothing at all, preferably.’
She laughed. ‘I think your sisters are going to have enough of a shock when they find out we’re getting married without me turning up naked.’
They had decided to tell his family at the party, and agreed on their story. It was a tweak on the truth: they had met through Archie and fallen instantly and deeply in love.
Charlie seemed unfazed by how they might react and, although she thought he was being a little optimistic, she was distracted enough by the thought of singing not to care.
She met his gaze. ‘Besides, I get to choose who sees my body, and some of me is only for you.’
His eyes darkened. ‘All of you is only for me,’ he said softly.
All of her? Was he saying he would mean his marriage vows? Take her for better or worse?
Her heart beat raggedly. Could she tell him about the fear that had gripped her that night in the club? The shame she fe
lt at throwing away a dream that had required Della to make so many sacrifices?
But of course he wasn’t talking about her as a person. He was talking about her body. Her agreeing to marry him didn’t mean she could share with him what went on in her head.
He wasn’t going to be that kind of husband.
Besides, she’d already confided in him way more than was necessary or appropriate.
Not that he had made her feel that. On the contrary, he had been sweet about her crying all over him.
But that was reason itself not to let it happen again. She had already got in deeper with Charlie than she had with any other man.
Never mind getting married—she had already let him hold her close enough to hear the beating of his heart, and that had been stupid, reckless.
