Page 116 of Gold Diggers


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He picked up her hand again and began unfastening the bracelet from around her wrist. She felt a rush of warm tears sting at the back of her eyes, wondering if she had pushed him too far. He was taking it all away from her. Everything.

‘So this is it?’ she said softly, biting her lip to stop her voice from cracking.

‘Sssh,’ he said softly, lifting her fingers to his mouth and kissing their tips.

Karin just stared at him, the tears flowing down her face now. ‘What … what are you doing?’ she croaked.

‘I want to make it up to you,’ he said quietly.

He held her left hand in his and began to wrap the bracelet around her third finger. Karin felt her heart skip a beat as the cold diamonds pressed against her skin.

‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to improvise,’ he whispered as he held the glittering bracelet in place and sank to one knee.

‘Karin, will you marry me?’

Karin looked down at him, his eyes so blue in the lamplight, her third finger obscured by diamonds, and began to laugh softly. Then she nodded. Adam pulled her down to him and pressed her hand against his face.

‘Baby, I want you. I love you. I need you,’ he said, kissing each finger in turn.

Karin laid her head against his. ‘The feeling’s mutual,’ she murmured, before words were lost in the swell of a passionate kiss.

58

‘What do you mean, they’re engaged?’ Molly spluttered to Marcus, trying very hard to conceal her emotions after he had told her the news. ‘They’ve only been going out two minutes! I have bottles of shampoo on the go longer than their relationship.’

‘Well, she’s done something right, because I never thought I’d see the day when Adam headed down the aisle,’ smiled Marcus. ‘They’re having a party to celebrate as soon as Karin can organize something suitably grand. Probably at Adam’s palazzo on Lake Como.’

That final detail made it even more painful for Molly. She didn’t even know he owned a villa in the Italian Lakes. She had been to the Versaces’ villa on Como and had often pictured herself in the role of a beautiful contessa. It was really all too terrible, especially when he had seemed to be getting along with Summer so well. She took a long drag of her Sobranie cigarette and began to think.

Engaged. Summer had almost choked on the word when she repeated it back to Adam. Moments earlier she had been feeling so happy. Adam had driven her out to the Fat Duck restaurant in the tiny Berkshire village of Bray, one of the few three-Michelin-starred restaurants in the country. She had been thrilled that Adam had wanted to see her the moment he’d arrived back from Ibiza, and was looking forward to a perfect night together. Instead, just as the starter had arrived, he’d said those three little words: ‘I’m getting married’.

‘Why did you bring me somewhere so special to tell me you were engaged?’ said Summer, aware of a large tear trembling on her eye-lid.

Adam folded his napkin on his lap and looked around in case anybody was eavesdropping. ‘Honey, it’s only just happened,’ he whispered. ‘I wanted to tell you as soon as possible and I was going to bring you here anyway.’

‘Don’t make it sound like you’re doing me a favour, you insensitive bastard,’ hissed Summer.

He leant over the table to stroke her cheek and she jerked away from him as if she’d been stung.

‘You’ve always known about Karin,’ said Adam. ‘This doesn’t have to change anything.’

‘Of course it changes things. You’re getting married.’

‘Don’t get all fucking sanctimonious, Summer,’ said Adam sharply. ‘I’ve been in a serious relationship the entire time we’ve been seeing each other. You’re not exactly in the best place to be taking the moral high-ground.’

‘But you’ve just made a commitment to her. That’s what changes things.’

Aware that a waiter was looking at them, Adam leant forward. ‘What hasn’t changed is the way I feel about you. I care about you.’

‘So much so that you’re marrying Karin,’ said Summer, taking a glug of Chablis.

‘Summer. Karin knows I’ve been seeing someone.’

Summer thumped her glass down on the table. ‘Oh I see,’ she said sarcastically, ‘so you proposed as a way of saying sorry?’

They looked at each other, neither one knowing what to say.

Summer looked down as a tear landed on the white tablecloth. ‘I want to go home,’ she whispered.

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