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‘Oh?’ she said dully, her mood plummeting. She’d known this was coming; why wasn’t she better prepared for it? ‘What is it?’
‘I have to go to California on a business trip.’
‘I know,’ she replied, deciding it would be silly to pretend she didn’t.
His brow creased. ‘You do?’
‘Yes, I heard you arranging it. That morning at the Manor.’
‘I see,’ he said. He seemed momentarily disconcerted by the news, but nothing else. There was no trace of guilt. No sign that he felt she might have been entitled to know his plans a bit sooner. The realisation made the silly spurt of hurt worse.
‘We opened a new surf shop and academy at a luxury resort in Big Sur a year and a half ago. I have to go check it out. It’s unavoidable, I’m afraid.’
She couldn’t quite process what he was saying, the pump of blood in her ears deafening. What was wrong with her? This was ludicrous. She was overreacting, she knew that, but the panic clawed at her chest and chased her heart into her throat.
She forced the question out—the question she’d been trying not to ask even herself in the last week. ‘Will you be coming back? To Cornwall?’
‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘I haven’t decided yet. But I’d like you to come with me to California.’
It took a few frantic moments for her to hear the words properly. Relief came first, coursing through her veins. And then her heart soared as if it were about to burst. He wanted to take her with him? She’d never even considered that as a possibility in the last week.
Holding her hand, he stood up and tugged her out of the chair. His hands settled on her hips. ‘The resort’s incredible. Belongs to a friend of mine called Zack Boudreaux. I looked at the weather forecast and they’re having an Indian summer. Temps in the low seventies. With a couple of wetsuits we could swim in the Ocean, then warm up in the hot tub afterwards.’
It sounded wonderful. Like a romantic fantasy. She could already picture them there together. The dramatic Californian coastline. His gorgeous body, naked and available, driving her to even greater heights of fulfilment. And all the excitement, the passion that had become an integral part of her life since she’d met him. But what seduced her more than that erotic vision was the thought of being there with him. As a real girlfriend. A real companion.
The yearning hit her like a bolt of lightning.
‘So what do you say?’ He gave her hips a little jiggle, his smile so tempting her heart imploded.
She searched his face, saw not just desire but the complete conviction that she would say yes. And the joyous acceptance that wanted to burst out of her mouth got stuck in her throat. ‘I don’t think I can.’
His smile faltered. ‘You’re kidding? Why not?’
She stepped away from him, rubbed her palms up arms which were chilled, despite the heat of the open fire in the hearth. ‘Phil’s closing the café next week; I have to look for a winter job.’
‘So look for a job when you get back.’ He sounded more perplexed than annoyed, but still she felt the prickle of temper. She’d never asked him for a thing. Not once. Because she’d thought that was what she wanted. But the offhand offer, which had meant so much to her—and, she suspected, meant very little to him—had made her realise that he’d had every ounce of power in their relationship—however fleeting it was—and she’d had none.
‘Why do you want me to come, Rye?’
Rye felt the twin kicks of frustration and confusion.
What did she expect him to say?
That, as the time had drawn near to take the trip, the thought of going had appealed to him less and less. Until he’d figured out what the problem was. He didn’t want to go without her.
Of course, the minute he’d realised he wasn’t ready to leave her, the thought had annoyed the hell out of him. Had he got suckered into depending on her somehow?
‘I’d say it’s fairly obvious why I want you along.’ He raked his fingers through his hair.
No way was he telling Maddy how he’d agonised over taking the trip without her and then hedged for days about inviting her along. Any feelings he had for her were temporary. He’d made a major mistake by revealing too much the night she had come to the Manor; he wasn’t about to make the same mistake again.
‘I’ve been putting the trip off for a while,’ he said. ‘Because I wasn’t looking forward to it. Plane travel will probably aggravate my leg.’
It wasn’t true. He’d started doing the exercises the physiotherapist had given him not long after he’d first met Maddy—and he’d noticed the difference instantly. The cramps and muscle spasms had stopped altogether and the tired aching pains that he’d endured almost constantly for months only ever happened now if he’d been on his feet for hours. He’d never be able to surf again, and that still hurt, but the ungainly limp was a lot more manageable and didn’t bother him as much any more.
Maddy had never once made an issue of it. In fact, she seemed oblivious to his disability. And, as a result, he’d almost become oblivious to it too. But that didn’t stop him from using it as a convenient excuse. ‘But then I figured if I mixed business with pleasure it would be less of an ordeal.’
