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* * *
As soon as Lizzie left the room, Nick dropped his head into his hands and sucked in a deep breath. He’d imagined all sorts of things since seeing those disgusting pictures in the newspapers. The photographs of Lizzie and two men, having sex in a hotel bedroom. Dear God, he’d even seen the video of it on the internet. Watched how they’d degraded the only woman he’d ever loved. Of course he’d known straight away it wasn’t really Lizzie. It might have been her face and her body, but it wasn’t her free will. Yet if he knew it, why did nobody else realise it? The way it had been reported had implied she’d been a willing participant. One of the men in the photographs, the one claiming to be her boyfriend, had expressed outrage at his private life being made public. Then gone on to announce they often enjoyed three in the bed sessions. That in fact the Elizabeth Donavue he knew was a raunchy sex kitten, very different to the angelic image she portrayed in the media.
Nick had wanted to wring his bloody neck.
Beneath all the lies though, one thing was true. Lizzie was no longer the young innocent girl he’d fallen in love with. In his heart he’d known that, but knowing and having evidence of it thrust in his face were two different things. Over the years he’d got used to seeing her linked to a string of good-looking men. Most recently to some her mother would have been shocked at. But whatever her dubious choice in members of the opposite sex, he was sure the raunchy image being portrayed in the press was a false one. Lizzie might have grown up, become more sophisticated, but at heart she was still the girl he’d loved for most of his life.
Clenching his jaw, Nick opened the fridge door, horrified by how empty it looked.
He wouldn’t rest until whoever was responsible for hurting Lizzie was made to pay.
* * *
Lizzie hesitantly brought a forkful of scrambled eggs to her lips.
‘Come on, eat up,’ Nick encouraged. ‘You’re nothing but skin and bones under those clothes.’
She gave him a small smile. ‘Thanks. Your lavish compliments always did blow my mind.’ But she nibbled at the toast, took another mouthful of eggs, and gradually began to find her appetite. Within minutes she’d cleared her plate and washed it down with a large glass of orange juice.
Feeling slightly more human, she sat back on the chair and glanced over at him. Despite the trauma of the last few days, she felt the familiar tug on her heart. Age had only made him better looking. He still wasn’t dashingly handsome, not by the standards of the models and TV stars she mixed with, but he was, oh so quietly, extremely attractive. In fact, he was more than that. He was quietly sexy, which was a pretty breathtaking combination. Tall and lean, his thick dark hair was shorter than the last time she’d seen him, highlighting his seriously deep brown eyes. His long thin face still shrieked of intelligence, even without the glasses she was used to seeing him wear. Now she thought about it, this new, glasses free face was altogether more eye-catching than she remembered. His brown eyes larger and more eloquent. So no, he wasn’t extravagantly handsome, but she’d take his serious, intelligent good looks over those of the men she’d dated any day.
He looked up and caught her staring. ‘What’s wrong? Have I got egg on my chin?’
For the first time in days, Lizzie found herself wanting to giggle. Sitting at this table with Nick might be escapism, but for a few short minutes she was going to push all the crap into the background and just enjoy him being here. ‘I was trying to work out what had changed about you. Where are the glasses?’
He dropped his gaze back to his plate and started clearing up. ‘I decided to give in to vanity and have laser surgery.’ He shrugged. ‘Mainly I got fed up with losing them down the back of the sofa. I still haven’t got used to the fact that I don’t need them any more. The first thing I do when I get up in the morning is reach for the blasted things.’ Having piled all the plates into the dishwasher, he turned back to her. ‘Feeling better?’
She nodded. ‘A bit, thank you.’
‘Strong enough to tell me what happened?’
Was she? Lizzie took a deep breath and reached for the glass of wine he’d poured. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘But let’s do this somewhere more comfortable.’
Nick followed her back to the sitting room. There she curled up on the end of the sofa while he chose to sit in the armchair. He leant back and made himself at home, throwing one long jean clad leg over the other. ‘Why don’t you start by telling me who the hell Charles is?’
Chapter Two
At the sound of Charles’s name on Nick’s lips, Lizzie shivered. ‘Charles is a bastard. I’m ashamed to say, he was also my boyfriend.’
She risked a glance at Nick. His expression was serious, concerned, but there was no judgement. Whatever else had gone on between them, he was still her friend. He was on her side. He nodded for her to continue.
‘Charles started off as my personal trainer.’
Nick’s lips twitched. ‘Very show biz.’
‘Yes, I know, but, hey, I’m a model. I’m paid to look good.’ She fidgeted with her hands, more embarrassed than she’d thought at discussing her love life with him. And this was only the start of the story. ‘I thought Charles was different to the guys I’d been dating. Less shallow. Less inclined to make sure his best side was facing the camera when we went out.’
‘It wasn’t anything to do with his rippling torso then?’
‘Well, that might also have been a factor,’ she had to admit. ‘But, in all honesty, mostly I liked him because he was attentive and easy to be with. Don’t laugh, but he seemed genuine.’
‘Yeah, a genuine low life.’
She snorted. ‘Yes, well, clearly when it comes to men, my judgement is shot to pieces.’
‘You won’t get any argument from me over that statement,’ he muttered darkly. ‘Go on.’
‘A few nights ago Charles and I arranged to meet up in the bar of the Beverly Wilshire.’ Nick whistled and without thinking, she stuck her tongue out at him. It took her back to her childhood, when life had been simple, uncomplicated by the surge of puberty and emotions other than friendship. ‘It’s the only place in town, honey,’ she drawled. ‘Charles and I had a couple of drinks together and he seemed in good form. I remember thinking, this is pleasant. Then another man came up and introduced himself. One of Charles’s friends.’ The lightness of a few moments ago vanished and sickness and disgust crept back. She’d had sex with that man — someone she’d only just met — and she couldn’t remember any of it. ‘Sorry, I don’t think I can do this.’
