Reawakened by His Christmas Kiss Page 14

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘THE SITUATION IS completely manageable.’ Finn strode down the path, mouth set.

  Alex understood his reaction, even though she didn’t agree. He assumed that every situation could be controlled. After all, he was used to calling the shots. Thought a simple ‘no comment’ would suffice. But he must know this wasn’t going to happen this time.

  He’d been there when the story broke last time. Had driven through the crowds of photographers, seen the headlines. Did he really think that the sighting of a missing It Girl and the realisation that she’d been working back at her scandalous old home wouldn’t create a media storm? That the whole saga wouldn’t be raked over again and again? That those photos wouldn’t find their way back onto front pages?

  Her stomach tightened, nausea writhing around inside her.

  It was all going to happen again.

  Maybe exposure had been inevitable from the moment she’d found herself at Blakeley. Or from the minute Emilia had been catapulted into the public eye. She should have known that she couldn’t hide for ever. But to be discovered at Blakeley on the anniversary of the tragedy was nothing short of a disaster. She was a mistress of spin, but she had no idea how to handle this.

  She looked at her hands and realised they were shaking, but she couldn’t feel them. She didn’t even feel sick any more. She was numb.

  ‘Plausible deniability.’

  It was amazing, under the circumstances, how she could sound so calm. As if her carefully put-together life wasn’t about to be blown into smithereens.

  ‘If Sofia goes to the press, or her friend does, you go with plausible deniability. You employed Alexandra Davenport to work on the reopening of Blakeley Castle. You haven’t seen Lola Beaumont in years, and you have no idea if Lola and your temporary employee are the same person, but you doubt it. Meanwhile I’ll prepare a statement saying that we provided you with PR support and have no prior acquaintance. Hopefully no one will dig any deeper. Even better, maybe Sofia will forget about seeing me. Either way, we need a plan, and I think it’s definitely for the best if I head straight back to London tonight. I can handle the rest of the work from there. You don’t actually need me on site. We’ll monitor the situation. At least we didn’t confirm anything to Sofia. She might just decide she was wrong.’

  But she knew that hope was futile. Even when Finn had introduced Alex and explained that she was just a colleague she’d seen the disbelief in her old friend’s eyes. The chances of her not telling anyone about her suspicions were slim to none.

  Sofia might not go to the press herself, but she wouldn’t be able to help gossiping. And, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but at some point a journalist was going to start looking into the co-founder of the Happy Ever After Agency. The links to her godmother and the address in Chelsea were there for anyone who knew what they were looking for.

  ‘So what if they do dig?’

  Alex blinked. Surely she must have misunderstood. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘So what if they realise who you are? What difference does it make?’

  What difference did it make? How could he even ask that?

  ‘I thought you wanted your nieces kept safe? Any suggestion that Lola Beaumont has been back at Blakeley and they can wave goodbye to a normal life for weeks. There will be cameras at every gate, journalists at every event. Your life, Nicky’s, your father’s will be exhumed and picked over. Our prior acquaintance—everything. You escaped the scrutiny last time, Finn. Believe me, you don’t want to be the target this time.’

  ‘It will be uncomfortable for a few days, but it will die down. Alex, the girls love you. I love you. I always have. If the truth is out there, then what does it matter? You could make your home at Blakeley. Figure out who you are and what you want with us by your side. No one will bother you; you’ll be safe.’ He stopped and turned her to face him, dark eyes burning. ‘I love you, Alex.’

  Alex couldn’t meet his intense gaze. His words echoed around and around her head, and her hands were shaking harder. She clasped them together, trying to still them. He’d said he loved her. Finn Hawkin, her one constant, the boy who had made her childhood happy, the man who had saved her, woken her from a decade’s half-life, loved her.

  For one moment she felt his heat coursing through her, warming her, and the tantalising possibility of a future with him flashed through her mind like the end credits of a movie. All she had to do was say the words trembling on her lips, words she had said only to him, and that future could be hers. A life of laughter and companionship and love. A life in which she would fall asleep and wake up next to this man. A life back home at Blakeley. A life with two girls who needed to be shown that happiness was possible.

  The words withered and died. How could she, of all people, give them stability? How could she trust that what they shared now would last? How could she even trust in this? Finn said he loved her, but she was a lie. She always had been.

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  She couldn’t look at him. Instead she started walking again, almost at a trot. The hotel gates were within view, and that meant the lodge was less than five minutes away. She could be packed and out through the door within an hour. On the first plane back to London by dawn. Home by morning. The thought of the Chelsea townhouse, her own bedroom, safety, was almost overwhelming.

  ‘I’ve enjoyed this walk down memory lane, Finn, but that’s all it was.’

  ‘Nonsense. Don’t lie to me, Alex. I know you. What happened earlier this week, this evening, wasn’t just nostalgia.’

  ‘You love Lola, Finn. You want me to be her. Well, I’m not. She’s gone and she won’t be coming back. I’m sorry but you have to move on. I have.’

  There was a long silence before he spoke, and when he did his voice was hoarse with emotion—with passion, with sincerity and with sorrow. Sorrow she had caused. The pain of it ripped through her.

  ‘The boy I was loved Lola, yes. But even then I knew that Lola wore a mask, even with me. And when I met you again you wore a mask too, but I saw through it. I see through it now. You know what I think? I think the real you is somewhere in between. Not as reckless as Lola, not as guarded as Alex. I think the real you sent those photos to me that night and that’s why you were so very hurt when they were leaked. Lola would have turned their existence into a PR campaign. I think it was the real you a week ago, in the cottage, and it’s the real you tonight. I think that the real you loves my girls and understands them, and they love her. I think I have a chance at a really happy future with you. But I get that you’re scared. I get that letting people in is hard. But trust me, Alex. Trust in love.’

  ‘This summer I told Emilia the same thing. I told her to trust in love, and she did. But she’s different to me.’ She had difficulty speaking, her voice so small she wasn’t sure he’d even heard her.

  ‘How?’

  She winced at the catch in his voice.

  ‘Why is she different?’

  ‘It’s not just us, Finn. It’s my past and your girls and Blakeley itself. I can’t be there. I just can’t. Even if Sofia miraculously tells nobody someone will recognise me eventually, in the local shop or in the village. I can’t hide in the cottage and the office for ever. And I can’t be recognised.’

  ‘Alex, you did nothing wrong. Your parents’ sins are not yours.’

  ‘But I ended up paying. Finn, I’ve worked so hard to protect myself. Please don’t ask me to undo all that work. Please don’t ask me to be vulnerable. Please don’t ask to be let in.’

  ‘I don’t want to ask. I want you to welcome me in. You don’t have to do this alone, Alex.’

  If only she could believe him. ‘I do. I have always had to. It’s the only way I’m safe. Don’t you see that, Finn?’

  ‘So tonight, last week, all we’ve shared, all we’ve been, all we are, means not
hing? You are just going to walk away?’

  ‘We could be friends,’ she suggested, aware of what a poor offer ‘friends’ was compared to the love he had so openly offered. ‘You and I could see each other sometimes...if we were careful.’

  It wasn’t much, but it was all she had.

  It was Finn’s turn to shake his head, his eyes darker than ever with sorrow. ‘I’ve said all along that I can’t embark on any relationship that puts the girls’ security at risk. Sneaking around to see you sometimes isn’t something that works for them or me. We deserve more.’

  Alex swallowed. ‘It’s all or nothing? Is that it?’

  ‘I never said any differently,’ Finn said gently.

  He stopped again, tugging gently at her hand to get her to stop too. Reluctantly she stilled, allowed him to turn her to face him, allowed his hand to tilt her chin so she met his eyes.

  ‘What we have, Alex, it’s pretty special. Not many people get to be with someone who knows them so completely. Not everyone gets to right the past. We can do both. Sure, it’s scary. I get that. I’m scared too. There’s so much at stake. But I believe in us. I believe in you. I always did. Believe in me, Alex.’

  How she wanted to. How she wanted to lean against his broad shoulder and allow Finn to carry her through life.

  He hadn’t sold those photos, had never betrayed her. He hadn’t destroyed them. She had. She was as reckless with people’s lives and hearts as her parents. How could a person who had never known stability and unconditional love offer it? She wouldn’t just be screwing up her life or Finn’s life if she got it wrong, there were Scarlett and Saffron to consider. She recognised a kindred spirit in Saffron, seeing a girl scared that she wasn’t good enough, ready for rejection. What if she messed her up even more?

  ‘Damn you, Finn,’ she whispered, and his grip tightened.

  ‘Believe in me,’ he said again.

  She reached to cover his hand with hers. ‘I do. I always did. But I don’t believe in me. I don’t know how to and I need to figure that out. Being back with you, loving you, has shown me the way. Shown me that maybe I can reach for more than security, that I can have ambitions and hope. Thank you for that. But I’m not safe, Finn. Not just because I could find myself back on the front pages at any time, or because my very presence could disrupt your home and your business, but because I don’t know how to be part of a family. I can’t take the risk that one day you’ll realise I’m not enough. I don’t trust myself to be what the girls need...’

  ‘Alex, we all feel like that. I feel like that every day. There’s no rule book—not for parenting or for love. All we can do is our best. That’s the secret.’

  ‘Finn. When I’m with you I feel anchored. I always did. But it’s just another act. Nothing about me is real—not even my name. My whole life is about spin, from my job to the way I want people to see me. I want you to love me. I always did. But how do you know I’m not spinning you? Being the person you want me to be? How do I know that?’

  ‘Because I have always known you, and I have always seen you. Doubt yourself, Alex, but don’t doubt me.’

  ‘You’re my one constant and I can’t risk losing that. Not again.’ She reached up with her other hand, cupping his cheek, drinking him in. ‘I do love you, Finn. I have loved you my whole life. I love your heart and your soul, your courage and your kindness. I love watching you with the girls and seeing how safe they are with you looking out for them. I love your vision for Hawk and the company you’ve built. I love what you are doing at Blakeley and knowing that my ancestors are respected by you. I love you. If I loved you less I might take a risk. But you deserve more. Your girls deserve more. Let me do the right thing, Finn. Let me go.’

  Standing on her toes, she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, trying to imprint every sensation on her memory: his scent, his taste, the way his mouth felt, firm and yet so tender. She tasted salt and didn’t know who was crying, him or her.

  ‘Be happy,’ she whispered against his mouth, then turned and walked away.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘EMILIA, WHAT ARE you doing here?’ Alex jumped up from her office chair to embrace her friend. ‘It’s so good to see you. But I thought you were in Armaria?’

  Alex had been home for a day and a half, but the townhouse wasn’t quite the sanctuary it usually was. Amber was busy with a series of corporate Christmas parties, Harriet was auditing another company’s administrative procedures before heading straight to Rio de Janeiro, and Emilia had gone to Armaria at the weekend to spend a few days with her father and his family, who had recently relocated there, before her stay at the palace.

  This meant Alex had been home alone most of the time, as the receptionist they’d employed a couple of months ago, when they’d realised they needed someone full-time in the office had taken annual leave. The townhouse had never felt so empty. It felt a little like purgatory.

  They’d worked so hard to make it a home as well as an office space, knocking down the wall between the sitting and dining room to create a welcoming office and reception area, where the wooden floorboards shone with a warm, golden glow, and the original tiled fireplaces had been renovated to shining glory. Two comfortable-looking sofas sat opposite each other at the front of the room, an inviting space for potential clients or staff to relax in, and the receptionist’s desk was on the wall behind.

  Their own desks, an eclectic mixture of vintage and modern classic, faced the reception area in two rows, with paperwork neatly filed in the shelves built into the alcoves by the back fireplace. Flowers and plants softened the space, and there was a warm floral print on the blinds and curtains, the same theme picked up in the pictures hanging on the walls.

  The door at the back led to a narrow kitchen and a sunny conservatory extension that they used as a sitting-cum-dining room, and they each had a bedroom on the first or second floor—two to a floor, sharing a bathroom. Cosy for four, it was too big a house for one person.

  Alex gave Emilia a quick hug. Neither was a demonstrative woman, but they had grown closer during the summer, when Alex had helped Emilia organise the Armarian Midsummer Ball and encouraged her to tell Laurent how she felt about him.

  ‘You do know it’s Christmas Eve, right? You are supposed to be in Armaria.’

  ‘I came back because we always spend Christmas Eve together,’ said Emilia. ‘So put the “out of office” on, switch the phones to “off”. No one is going to need anyone at midday on Christmas Eve. Let’s go. The car is coming to whisk me back to the airport at four, so we have all afternoon.’

  ‘It’s so good to see you.’

  Alex swallowed the lump in her throat, blinking back threatening tears. She was the calm and collected one. She never cried, never had emotional crises. She didn’t intend to start now, but she hadn’t realised how much she needed to see her friends.

  Pulling on her coat and grabbing her bag, Alex followed Emilia out of the house into the cold, crisp day. The snow was gone from the London streets, but the temperature was still below zero, the railings and bare tree branches glistening with frost despite the winter sun.

  They didn’t walk far. Emilia stopped at the small wine bar and restaurant at the top of their street, where they often went for an after-work drink or weekend brunch.

  ‘After you,’ she said.

  Alex pushed the door and walked into the dimly lit restaurant. Only to stop in surprise, feeling something as close to happiness as she had felt over the last few days rushing through her.

  ‘Harry! Aren’t you in Rio? What’s going on? Amber—lovely to see you.’

  ‘It’s like I said,’ Emilia said, squeezing her hand. ‘It’s Christmas Eve and we spend it together. Harry and I are going to the airport together at four. I’ll be in Armaria by six—’

  ‘And I’ll land in Rio tomorrow morning, so I’ll be with Deangelo and his family for Christmas.�
� Harriet enfolded Alex in a hug. ‘How could I miss our Christmas Eve?’

  ‘And you and I will go for our usual walk tomorrow.’ Amber smiled at Emilia as the waiter brought a bottle of champagne over to their table and expertly opened it. ‘But first we deserve a Christmas party of our own. We’ve all worked so hard this year.’

  Alex had never told them that Christmas Eve was her birthday, nor how much she appreciated their tradition of meeting up and spending the day together. And yet somehow they knew she needed them. She wasn’t as alone as she thought; even with all the changes on the horizon they were still a team.

  It had been far too long since all four of them had been together, and the next couple of hours passed quickly as they sipped their champagne and ate a delicious assortment of tapas.

  By common assent they decided against talking about work for a while, which meant Alex didn’t have to talk about Finn or Blakeley. Instead she listened as the other three discussed their Christmas plans.

  Emilia immediately invited Amber and Alex to Armaria when she heard they were planning to book a last-minute deal for the week.

  ‘I should have thought before,’ she said remorsefully. ‘Of course I’m a guest, both at Dad’s and at the palace, so it’s not really my place to invite people, but it’s not fair for Harry and I to be away and leave you two alone. Laurent won’t mind. I’ll text him. There’s great skiing; you ski, don’t you, Alex?’

  This would be the perfect time to mention that she’d been in Austria at the weekend, but Alex had no words to touch upon what had happened there. Instead she just nodded and applied herself to her barely touched plate.

  The discussion quietened and when she looked up all three of her friends were staring at her.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘You’ve been quiet, even for you.’

  ‘And you came back early from your last job and didn’t say why.’

  ‘Alex, you look so sad. Please let us help.’ Amber spoke last as she covered Alex’s hand with hers.