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Unable to bear his kindness, she moved away. ‘You can seriously stand there and pretend to me that everything is going to work out? Charles is still out there spouting his lies. Photographs of me in compromising positions continue to be splashed across the papers. Now I’m in danger of being hounded in two countries, not one. And you’ve been dragged into it, too. That’s real progress. Remind me to listen to you more often.’
Nick stepped back from her metaphorical slap round the face. ‘Well, I’m just about to put an end to at least one of your problems,’ he muttered darkly.
It was then that his eyes seemed to notice her. Since arriving at the barn she’d settled on her preferred style — ponytail, jeans and a jumper. Now she was in model mode. She’d lightly curled her hair so it flowed loosely down her back and she’d put on a silk blouse and soft cream trousers that flared from her hips, making her legs look longer than they were.
‘Wow, you look stunning.’
‘I figured if I’m going to talk to the press, I’m going to do it as Elizabeth Donavue, not Lizzie.’
‘Oh no you’re not.’ He moved towards the door, blocking her path. ‘You’re staying right here. I’m the one going outside to talk to these morons.’
‘I hate to disappoint you, Nick, but they aren’t going to be interested in what you have to say.’
‘Interested no, but they’ll damn well take notice. That’s if they want to avoid a lawsuit for trespassing and harassment.’ With that he yanked open the door and slammed it behind him.
She stared at the closed door for a moment, then sighed. The man had no idea how hard it was to get rid of the press. Still, he was obviously determined to act as her personal protector, so she’d give him a chance to do it his way. And having him take control, watch out for her, try and guard her from harm, was a pretty incredible feeling. It would be even more incredible if he was doing it for reasons other than duty and honour. He cared about her, yes, but did he feel any more for her than that? Because her feelings for him were becoming gradually more complex. What had started out as a simple crush was fast developing into something more scary. When he looked at her now, he didn’t just melt her insides, he melted her heart.
As if she needed the addition of that confusion to her already chaotic life.
In a bid to distract herself, she started to make a cup of tea. God, she really was so very English still.
‘They’re going,’ Nick announced as he stormed back in. ‘I don’t think we’ll see them again.’
‘What, that easily?’
‘Yes,’ he replied somewhat tersely. ‘This is my private property, both the driveway and the land surrounding it. They can’t hang around here without my permission.’
Lizzie felt very contrite. She’d overreacted again. Big time. That was her all over. A real drama queen. Using Nick as a punchbag when she should be venting her anger at the man who’d caused it. ‘Thank you,’ she said inadequately.
‘You’re welcome. There aren’t many things I’ve got right recently. At least this was one of them. For now at least.’ There was no accompanying wry smile. Just a tight, almost grim expression.
‘You’ve got a lot of things right,’ she argued hotly. ‘I’ve not always been gracious enough to recognise them.’
‘No. Until Charles is found guilty, I haven’t done a damn thing.’ He thrust a hand into his jeans pocket. ‘I’ll be in the study if you need me.’
Lizzie watched him stride away with an ache in her heart. She was falling in love with a man who must see her as nothing but trouble. It was time she kept away from him for a while and gave him a break from her overly cruel tongue.
* * *
They kept to their separate ways for the rest of the morning. Nick waited until he’d heard Lizzie make her lunch and return to her room before going down to make his. It was the first time they’d spent the day together, yet not shared a meal. He knew she was still angry with him. Why else would she not offer to feed him? With a sigh he went to forage in the fridge.
The knock on the front door took him by surprise. He rarely had visitors here. He’d deliberately kept quiet about the place, wanting to keep it as a private bolt-hole. In fact apart from Lizzie, only three people knew he had it; the lady who looked after it for him, Sally and his sister. Please God let it be one of them and not more sodding journalists.
Though if He was listening, perhaps he could see to it that it wasn’t Sally? He really didn’t need that potential drama right now.
‘Charlotte.’ Relief flooded through him as he opened the door. ‘What on earth brings you here?’
‘Is that any way to greet your sister? Especially as she’s driven over an hour to get here.’ The pretty, smiling woman on the doorstep wagged her finger at him. ‘A big hug and the offer of a drink would be more appropriate, don’t you think?’
Laughing, he reached out and gave her the hug she’d demanded. Then he thought of Lizzie, who no longer had a sibling to wrap her arms around, and tightened his hold. As children they hadn’t been that close. Mainly because his aunt and uncle had demanded all Charlotte’s attention, leaving him the odd one out. There had been many times, in those early days, when he’d felt like he’d lost his sister, along with his parents. It was one of the reasons he hung around at Robert’s house so much. There, between his friend, Lizzie and their parents, he received the attention he missed out on at home. As time had moved on though, and Charlotte had grown older, her appeal to their aunt and uncle had waned. The picky teenager was far less interesting than the pretty toddler. Nick had tried to fill the hole they’d left, giving Charlotte his time, his attention, his love, and their bond had grown. As they’d moved into adulthood it was Charlotte who’d proved better at keeping in touch, at giving him her time. And her love.
‘You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here,’ he told her as he put the kettle on.
‘Well, there I was, catching up on the celebrity gossip in a terribly indiscrete newspaper, when I read that a certain leggy model, subject of a recent sex scandal, had returned to England and was hiding away somewhere in the country not too far from London.’ The mug he’d been holding slipped out of his hand and rolled dangerously close to the edge of the worktop. ‘I’m not sure if you know who I mean? Long blonde hair and a stunning smile? Someone you grew up with and had a rather large crush on, if I remember correctly.’
Nick snatched at the mug. ‘Thanks, Charlotte. And if you could dial your voice down from embarrassingly loud to a little more discreet, I’d be enormously grateful.’
‘Oops, sorry, I forgot your crush was always a secret, though why on earth you never told her, I don’t know. You were always so close.’
