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Why watching her drive off in that car and go out of his life had made him feel undone.
‘I don’t... I don’t—’
For a moment the power of speech abandoned him. He couldn’t finish the sentence. And he couldn’t lie to his sister or to himself any more.
But he couldn’t tell the truth either.
Back on the island Mimi had said that Alicia thought love was the solution to everything, and she was right. His sister was a fully paid-up believer in the power of love. How was he supposed to explain to her that on this occasion love wasn’t enough?
By nature Alicia had always been sweetly optimistic, and her optimism often tipped over into naivety. It was what he loved about her, and why he’d been so protective of her all his life. But no matter how right she was now, how much he wanted to follow his heart, he knew that the world wasn’t ready for a relationship between Bautista Caine and Mimi Miller. He only had to look at the aftershocks of one blurred photo to know that.
Going public with their relationship would magnify those problems tenfold, and he couldn’t do that to Mimi. He’d seen how shaken she was by those few minutes with the paparazzi, knew how terrified she was of the past being resurrected—for hadn’t she told him that was why she had given up the fight to get her embargoed film released? She had learnt the hard way that not all publicity was good publicity.
Alicia pulled him into a hug. He could feel her heart beating and the dampness of her cheek against his.
‘I’m not going to try and change your mind,’ she said. ‘I just want you to remember that you have a life of your own to live.’
She released him. ‘Look, I have to go, but promise me you’ll come to lunch? About one.’ Her brown eyes flickered over his joggers. ‘And get dressed. Otherwise I’ll be forced to put on my unicorn onesie.’
Nodding, he managed to smile. He could see she wouldn’t take no for an answer, and what else was he going to do today?
His heart felt suddenly
heavy against his ribs. Without Mimi, what was he going to do with the rest of his life?
Two hours later he let himself into Alicia’s flat, holding a bottle of wine. He had showered, and changed into khakis and a polo shirt, but left the stubble. Right now his face felt a little treacherous, and having it there was somehow reassuring—like having a mask.
He liked Alicia’s flat. In a word, it was charming. Big enough to feel comfortable, but small enough to feel cosy, and decorated with an easy elegance that she’d inherited from his mother. Today, though, it felt oddly quiet.
‘You didn’t say what we were having,’ he called out, walking into the kitchen, ‘but I went with white.’
‘White sounds lovely.’
He froze, his whole body pushing back against his thousand and one involuntary reactions to that familiar, soft voice while his gaze was pulled to where Mimi was standing in the doorway, wearing faded jeans and a soft blue jumper, her long blonde hair loose over her shoulders, her eyes fixed on his face.
* * *
There was a good two minutes of silence. Mimi could feel her heart in her throat. She could hardly believe it was only a week since she had last seen him. It felt as if a whole decade had passed. And after the wild grandeur of Patagonia being with him here in Alicia’s homely kitchen felt almost surreal.
He stood up, his chair scraping against the wooden floor. ‘You two set this up.’
It wasn’t a question, but she nodded. ‘I’m not really equipped for roadside abductions.’
She tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t co-operate. Her whole body felt stiff and unwieldy. She was nervous, but she was also having to push back against the urge to cross the room and kiss him. It hurt to be so close and not be able to touch him, like having to hold her breath too long underwater.
‘Mimi—’
‘Basa—’
They both spoke at once.
He stared at her for a moment, and then he cleared his throat. ‘After you.’
It was her chance to talk, to say what she needed to say, only now she was here she was paralysed, mute with fear that she would say the wrong thing.
But even she couldn’t mess up three little words.
‘I love you.’
