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‘It seems like a stretch. Then again, in LA a lot of things seem too incredible to be real. What’s the plan? Ask Dan to interview every woman who’s used Charles?’
‘Why not? If you can list the names of those you know had him as a personal trainer, Dan can start from there.’ Unable to resist, he reached over to frame her lovely face with his hands. ‘Help him nail the creep, Lizzie.’
Her big eyes widened as they stared into his and his heart seemed to stall. What was going on behind those huge blue windows of hers? Was she, too, thinking how wonderful it felt to have this connection? To feel skin on skin for a few precious moments? Or did she want him to get his big hulking hands off her delicate face?
The ring tone from his phone crashed into the moment and with a sigh he delved into his pocket to answer it. ‘Templeton.’ Mouthing write that list at Lizzie, he walked slowly back to his study.
He worked there for the rest of the morning, wandering down once to fetch a drink, only to find Lizzie gazing out of the window, seemingly lost in thought. Did she see the daffodils bobbing in the breeze, or was she seeing those blasted photographs? He wished to God he knew.
Finally it was lunchtime and he headed straight for the kitchen, reaching gratefully for the sandwiches she’d pulled together, and even more gratefully for the large mug of caffeine-filled coffee sitting next to them. Following the awkwardness of his conversations last night — first Dan, then Lizzie overhearing him with Dan, rounding it all off with Sally, and Lizzie overhearing that — he hadn’t had much sleep. Lizzie sat down quietly opposite him.
‘How’s the list going?’
‘I’ve left it on the coffee table.’
She looked so down. Vulnerable, too, though he knew she wasn’t nearly as fragile as she appeared. His conscience pricked, reminding him there was something they hadn’t spoken about since the funeral. A rather large something that weighed heavily on his mind. Now was as good a time as any to stop cosseting her, as she would put it, and face up to it.
‘Lizzie, there’s something I want to show you this afternoon.’
She stopped chewing and quirked an eyebrow. ‘Really? That sounds exciting.’
He pushed his empty plate to the side. ‘I’m not sure exciting is the right word for it. In fact, I’m pretty certain it isn’t. It’s going to involve a car journey.’
‘Do I get to know where to, or is that all part of the mystery?’
As her eyes danced, clearly amused, Nick wanted to put his head in his hands and howl. Why had he set it up this way? Like some blasted adventure, when he knew damn well as soon as she realised where they were going, it was going to cut her in two. Then again, if he told her, she’d never get in the car. ‘You’ll find out where we’re headed soon enough.’
* * *
Lizzie sat beside him in the car, still wearing the air of a schoolgirl going on an outing. Nick gritted his teeth and concentrated on driving the route he knew off by heart. It was another beautiful day, hardly a cloud in the sky, but for once the sun failed to lift his spirits. The further he drove, the more he doubted the advisability of what he was doing, and the heavier the feeling of dread in his stomach. He should have waited longer. She was still a long way from recovering from a traumatic episode in her life. It was hardly the time to remind her of another, even more horrific one.
‘Oh my God. You’re taking me home, aren’t you?’ Lizzie’s voice trembled as her eyes caught sight of the signpost to the village she’d grown up in.
‘It’s about time, Lizzie.’ And it was, but his stomach clenched as he realised it was highly likely she was going to hate him for what he’d done. At the very least, she’d never trust him again.
Chapter Eight
Fear ripped through her. It was ridiculous to be afraid of looking at the house she’d grown up in, but Lizzie didn’t want to see it and know her parents weren’t there. She especially didn’t want to see another family living in it. ‘I don’t want to do this,’ she told him harshly.
He must have heard the terror beneath her anger because he took one hand off the steering wheel and reached for hers, clasping it tight. ‘I know,’ he replied quietly, ‘but I think it’s time you did. There’s also something I need to tell you.’
‘Oh God, what?’ Her mind flashed through all the possibilities. The house had changed beyond all recognition. It had been turned into a restaurant. It had been bulldozed and a block of flats put in its place. ‘The new owners haven’t painted it pink, have they?’
He shook his head but didn’t smile. Giving her hand a final squeeze he placed his back on the steering wheel. ‘No, nothing like that.’
‘What then?’
They were nearly there. Lizzie knew it was just round the next corner. With her heart beating wildly in her chest, she briefly considered wrenching the steering wheel from Nick so he would be forced to turn round. How dare he spring this on her? Why hadn’t he asked her first, let her build up to it, rather than forcing the issue? She opened her mouth to scream at him, but the words died on her lips. There it was, right in front of her. Her childhood home.
Oh God, it looked so pretty. The pink roses her mother loved so much were budding round the door. The front lawn was neatly trimmed, the paintwork shone. Whoever had bought it clearly loved it. She took some solace in that.
Nick surprised her by pulling up into the driveway. ‘What are you doing?’ He wasn’t going to force her inside, was he? That was too much. She couldn’t bear to see how things had changed.
‘That something I need to tell you is . . . err, you see . . .’ He broke off with a hiss of frustration, his whole body vibrating with tension, his eyes not holding hers. ‘I bought the house.’
She gaped at him. ‘You . . . what?’ Surely she hadn’t heard him right. ‘You sold the house. That’s what you told me. I received the money into my bank account. It helped me set Robert up in his nursing home.’
He darted the briefest of glances in her direction. ‘Technically, that is what happened. What I didn’t tell you was I sold the house to me.’
