Holly paid the driver and was glad when she entered the airport to see that her flight hadn’t been delayed or cancelled or anything horrible like that. She bypassed the bookshop at the airport, her hand resting on her bag, which held Daisy’s diary. She’d decided she would read it—she owed that much to her sister.
And in the end, it was Daisy’s diary that made the journey fly by. The pages turned out to be much better—far more uplifting and enlightening—than any airport paperback could be. She thanked the Lord for the little old man who sat beside her and snoozed away most of the journey. She wasn’t in any mood for conversation, even one-sided conversations like the one the neurosurgeon had inflicted on her during her last flight.
So she sat back and read.
To see inside Daisy’s head felt like a lottery win, too late. The things—lovely things—she said about Holly and how she admired her and wished she could be more like her, tore at Holly’s heart. To think two sisters—who should have been close—had kept a distance from each other because they each thought the other more superior. Holly’s mind boggled at Daisy’s confession that she’d been jealous of Holly’s simple childhood. She wished she could have told Daisy that chess club and piano lessons weren’t all that enthralling and that she’d always assumed her parents didn’t think her good enough for the modeling, singing and dancing lessons Daisy had done. Daisy’s diary told her otherwise.
But it was Daisy’s entries about Ian that had the tears spilling down Holly’s cheeks. How had Holly never seen that Daisy had liked Ian all her life? She shivered as her sister described despair at finding out Ian and Holly were together. Her pages and pages about how she’d almost not come back to Australia for Holly’s wedding, how she wished like anything she had stayed away. Daisy obviously hated herself for her actions—regretted having feelings for Ian at all, never mind acting on them. Holly waited for the usual anger to rear its head, but it didn’t. Daisy’s love for Ian shone through her words, a love far stronger than Holly had ever felt for her husband. Shame filled her.
How could she hate Daisy for acting on such intense feelings? Holly had never felt such desperate passion until she’d met Nate, but now that she had she finally felt she had some sort of understanding of Daisy’s unfortunate predicament.
To think that if it weren’t for Nate, she may never have had any insight into all of this. Was it better to know? After much pondering, she decided yes. If there was one thing that came out strong in all Daisy wrote it was her wish that she could have righted her wrongs. Hopefully she was watching Holly read from somewhere above and knew she’d been forgiven.
For that reason, Holly would never regret her week with Nate.
Chapter Eighteen
Late on Monday afternoon, Nate returned to an empty house. Ruby was gone for the day and despite the fact he often got home after she’d left and had lived on his own for over a decade, the emptiness hit him like a slap to the face the moment he stepped in the front door.
Was this all he’d ever come home to? Wasn’t that what he’d always wanted?
He closed the door behind him and looked around. Thank God Holly would still be in midair, otherwise he may not have been able to resist the urge to pick up the phone and call her just so he could hear her voice. But what would he say?
She’d thrown his life off course in less than a week. He didn’t
know
what he felt about her. He’d thought a day of taking photos and getting back to his usual routine would help cure the listlessness, but it hadn’t. He’d had to apologize to his client—a very high-profile actress—twice because he’d drifted off into his own little world. A world where Holly was resident. Damn!
Wanting to kick something, he walked farther into the house and noticed an envelope on the hall side table. Most of his mail went to the studio, where Louise expertly dealt with it—only bringing things to his attention if necessary. He picked up the stray envelope and noted it was addressed to Holly. A sense of gloom swept over him. He’d have to forward it onto her, which would mean finding her address. Of course, he could give the job to Louise. About to put the letter back down, he turned it and noticed decidedly female scrawl on the back. His heart jolted as he read the message.
Curious, he rushed to peer inside the envelope. A check for an absurd amount of money fell out. He peered inside hoping for something else—maybe a letter that elaborated on the short message on the back—but there was nothing.
He was frozen to the spot, staring at the check and pondering Holly’s amazing generosity when his front door vibrated with knocks.
It sounded like a whole tribe of people. Hardly in the mood for company, he strode to the door and swung it open.
“Bec? Linc?”
His sister threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his tense body. Linc stood behind her with a massive bag of what smelled like takeout in one arm and two bottles—one champagne, one soda—in his other arm.
“Thank you thank you thank you,” gushed Bec, still clutching him tightly. “It’s been less than a day and already business is booming from the Awards’ publicity. Is Holly still here? I have to worship her.”
He rolled his eyes at Bec’s dramatics. “She left this morning.”
Bec pulled back and raised one eyebrow at him. “Is that why you’re wearing such a scowl on your face?”
“I am not.”
“Yes, you are.”
Nate was in no mood for a childish game of am-not-are-too. “Linc, tell her she’s being ridiculous.”
His traitorous near-brother-in-law, shrugged his shoulders. “You do look tense.”
Nate opened his mouth, not sure whether he wanted to snap that he wasn’t tense—which was a blatant lie—or invite them in as distraction from his self-pity party.
“Did you tell her how you felt?” Bec’s voice was serious, her expression almost pitying.
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, Nate,” Bec said, reaching out to take his hand. He wondered if his sister could see right through him. “You were different around Holly. Happy. You really like her, don’t you?”
Something snapped inside him. “Of course I like her. What’s not to like? I can’t think about anyone or anything else. It’s driving me insane.”
Bec grinned at Linc. “I think my big brother has fallen in love.”
Linc grinned back. “Looks that way.”
“Love?” Nate felt as if he needed to sit but the only place to do so was the staircase. He walked back and flopped onto the bottom stair. Love? The concept was so alien to him. How could something he didn’t think he believed in make him feel so off-kilter? So lost.
“Yes, Nate. Love. It’s the mutual respect and desire between two friends who can’t bear to be without each other.” Bec looked at Linc and smiled. Then she turned back to Nate. “Sound familiar?”
Nate thought of Holly and how he’d shared with her things he’d never felt comfortable telling anyone else. He thought of the sparks that flew when they were together. And the rock-bottomness he felt now that she was gone.
Bec didn’t wait for his answer. “You look awful. Why didn’t you ask her to stay?”
Because the thought had never crossed his mind. He’d known her less than a week. For someone who hadn’t thought he believed in love that was a hell of a short time to succumb to it.
He looked up at his sister and finally opened his heart.
“Because what if I’m like Dad?” The admission shocked and pained him. Oh God. He dropped his head into his hands. His one fear finally voiced. For years he’d had a wall around his emotions that even he hadn’t analyzed them properly.
Bec and Linc were silent. So quiet that Nate finally looked up to see if they were still there.
“You are kidding, right?” Bec said. “You could never be like him. You’ve always looked out for us, always cared, always provided. You’re like that with everyone—your work at the shelter shows that. I fear Dad was born a selfish pig. You were born doing everything you could for those around you. Now it’s time to look out for you.”
Bec didn’t like talking about her teenage troubles but he had to ask. “If I was so damn great, why didn’t I see you were in trouble? Why didn’t I save you?”
Bec scoffed, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Don’t blame yourself for my eating disorder.” She tried to make a joke. “That was my screw up. While you were out taking photos to keep us from crossing the poverty line, I was wallowing in self-pity. That’s my character fault, not yours.”
If he were a drinker, this would be the time to say he needed something stiff. Instead, his thoughts went to Holly’s envelope, now slightly crumpled in his hand. Her words were kind but short, riddled with a finality he suddenly realized he didn’t want.
He wanted to talk to her about her feelings, about his. And he desperately needed to see her again.
So, that was love? The knowledge felt better than any success he’d ever had professionally. Suddenly it seemed oh so clear why he’d always found it easy to keep emotion out of sexual encounters. He hadn’t invested himself in any of them. But without making the decision to, he’d invested himself in every moment shared with Holly. He’d taken longer to make a move on her than with any other woman before, because even back then, he’d known he had so much more to lose if he screwed it up with her.
And he had screwed it up. He’d let her go home without telling her how he really felt. That she meant the world to him. He hoped it wasn’t too late to let her know and he couldn’t afford to waste another moment.
“Bec, can you call my PA and get her to book me on the first flight to Sydney? And Linc, do you mind looking up jobs for cultural anthropologists? Anything within commuting distance from here.”
Then, ignoring the mammoth smile stretched across his sister’s face and the puzzled look on Linc’s, he turned and headed for his home studio.
Chapter Nineteen
Holly sat across her kitchen table from Stella, sipping occasionally from her cup of tea as she tried to focus on what her friend was saying. She’d been back just over forty-eight hours. Every single minute of that time had been spent fantasizing about Nate coming after her. About the near-impossible happening and him deciding he loved her and wanted to be with her. Hah!
She’d given Stella a version of her week in L.A. Some of Daisy’s acting ability must have rubbed off because she appeared to have fooled her friend into thinking she’d had a fabulous week and had come home feeling released and revitalized. Or maybe Stella hadn’t noticed because she was distracted with her own problems. It was taking all Holly’s energy to try and focus on what her friend was saying.
“It just doesn’t thrill me anymore. Simon is all gung-ho about expanding and buying another restaurant, but I’m not sure I even want the one we’ve got.”
Holly’s mind kept drifting elsewhere, which wasn’t fair because whenever Holly had problems, Stella could always be relied upon to listen and offer a constant supply of chocolate biscuits and tissues while she poured her heart out. Now it was Holly’s turn to listen to her friend’s dilemma, although to be honest, she was a little bit annoyed that Stella was so unhappy with her seemingly perfect life. So, she didn’t love her job—at least she had a secure income and a man who wanted to build a future with her.
“In fact, I’m not even sure I want to be with him anymore.”
“What?” That crazy-admission got Holly’s attention. “But you guys have been together since high school.”
Stella shrugged. “Maybe that’s long enough.”
Holly didn’t know where to start this conversation and was about to suggest the left-over cheesecake she had in her fridge—her comfort dinner the night she’d returned—when there was a knock at her front door.
She frowned, not expecting anyone. “Hold that thought while I answer the door,” she said. “We need to talk about this.”
On her doorstep she found a man dressed in a courier uniform. She couldn’t remember ordering anything, so the thick envelope he gave her piqued her curiosity. “What’s that?” Stella asked as she came back into the living room.
“Don’t know.” Holly put the large envelope on the table between them. “But back to your dilemma.”
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
“Later.” The non-descript envelope gave nothing away, but she was interested.
“How can you wait? Open it now, might be something good.” Stella went to grab the envelope, clearly about to open it herself if Holly wouldn’t.
Holly snatched it out of her friend’s reach. “Fine, I’ll open it, but then we are seriously getting back to this Simon thing.”
Stella smiled her victory and nodded, waiting.
Holly slowly opened the envelope and shook the contents out onto the table. Her eyes almost jumped out of her head and her heart ricocheted up into her throat as she stared open mouthed at the contents. All thoughts of Stella and Simon’s possible rift fled.
She didn’t react quickly enough to hide the photos from Stella.
“Whoa!” Stella’s head snapped back as she realized what she was looking at. She fanned her face and glared at Holly. “What exactly did you get up to in Hollywood?”
“Did I forget to mention this?” Holly’s voice cracked as she failed dismally at an appearance of innocence. Her reflexes returning, she gathered the photographic evidence of her debauchery and clutched them against her chest.
“Uh, yes. But don’t be so hasty. Let me have a good look at those. Now that I’m over the shock, I have to say they did look rather tasteful. And you, well…” Her friend fanned her face again as she went to grab the envelope from Holly.
Holly held on like a vice. It’s not that she didn’t want to share with Stella, more that when—
if
—she took a look at Nate’s photos, she wanted to be alone.
“Spoilsport,” Stella teased, but Holly didn’t have the chance to defend herself and Stella didn’t have the chance to try and twist her arm for another knock sounded at the front door.
Stella raised her eyebrows as both of them glanced toward the knock. “I wonder what that could be?”
“Probably a door-to-door salesmen. Tell them to go away.”
Stella saluted Holly but turned to do as she asked anyway. Holly sighed, her shoulders slumping and her arms going limp. The urge to take another look at the photos was almost unstoppable, but she really wanted to do it alone. Instead, she went to her bedroom and tucked them safely away under her pillow for later.
When she returned, Stella was closing the front door. “Here’s another one,” she said, handing Holly yet another envelope.
Something fishy was going on. She gingerly took the envelope and this time peered inside before pulling out the contents and laying it on the kitchen counter.
She frowned, totally baffled by what she found.
“Are you thinking of looking for a new job?” Stella asked, glancing down at the paperwork between them.
“Yes…I…no…but…” She snatched up the top of the pile and skimmed the page. It was an application form for a research position at a Los Angeles university. Tossing it aside, she looked at the rest—all similar applications for American universities within commuting distance from Nate. She collapsed onto the breakfast bar stool. Someone had to be playing a sick joke.
Stella picked one up and read closely. “I don’t understand. You’ve never said anything about wanting to move overseas?”
“I don’t.” Her skin at erupted in goose-bumps at the mere thought of living in such close proximity to Nate. Granted it was a big city, but what if she ran into him and his latest fling. “Throw them all away. I’ll be back in a second.”
Back…after she’d ran to the bathroom, splashed water on her now stinging eyes and pulled herself together. As Holly stepped into the bathroom, she heard another knock on the front door. A firm, urgent rap. Too bad.
Stella could answer if she felt the need, if not the person could be on their way. She didn’t care. She hadn’t spent long looking at the unexpected job information but they were all perfect for her. Yet, even if she were planning a change, L.A. would be the last place she’d move to.
As she looked up into the bathroom mirror, a thought suddenly shook her.
Both the envelopes were from local courier companies. Shivers skidded down her spine as she tried to make sense of it all. Could this really be a coincidence? She hated herself for the ridiculous hope that soared in her heart at these surprising deliveries.
She would shred the unwanted mail immediately and then get back to talking about Stella’s dilemma. Thinking about anyone else’s problems had to be better than her own heartache.
Yet, as she turned the handle, she heard voices in the front room—Stella’s voice and a deep, masculine one. She froze on the spot, her heart twisting inside her.
No way.
She shook her head, trying to push away the cruel fantasy.
“I’ll just go get her.” Holly heard excitement in Stella’s voice and then footsteps approaching quickly.
She ran her hands hurriedly through her hair, not wanting to look a mess if there was any reality in what she thought she’d heard.
Stella turned the corner and, seeing Holly, smiled a mammoth smile and clapped her hands like a little girl. Then she fanned her face. “Hubba hubba, why didn’t you mention the guy you stayed with was hot? Was he the one who took those pictures? No wonder you let him snap naked photos of you. I’d let him do anything he damn wanted.” Stella wasn’t quiet in her assessment.
“Shhh,” Holly hissed, just in case he really was there. “What’s going on?”
“Dreamy Nate Devlin is standing in your living room, that’s what.”
Finding it difficult to believe Stella’s words, despite hearing what sounded like his voice, Holly edged down the hallway and peered around the door jamb.
Oh hell
. She fell back against the wall, her heart springing to life as if she’d run a marathon. “That’s really him.”
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Stella urged, shoving Holly gently.
“What’s he doing here?”
“I have my suspicions.” Stella tapped her foot. “But who am I to try and predict the workings of a male mind. Go and ask him.”
“Ask him?”
“It seems reasonable to me.”
Holly gulped. Her mouth felt like the Sahara and her legs had forgotten their function. “I can’t.”
Stella crossed her arms and glared at Holly.
Nate stepped into the doorway only inches away. Yep, it was definitely him. “Then I’ll come to you,” he said.
Instinctively, she sniffed and her nose reveled in his sexy scent. She’d never get it out of her house now. Did she even want to? And then she looked into his eyes.
And did a double take.
They were still as sinfully sexy as always. Big and brown and deadly dangerous to her heart, but there was something different, something more. She stared, analyzing every centimeter of his face and decided he looked wiser, more at peace somehow. Stalling her thoughts before her mind ran away to a fantasy place, she asked, “Why are you here, Nate?” Holly worked hard to keep her voice steady, when beneath her skin every bodily reflex was hyper.
He grinned, his lips twisting upwards and turning her insides out. “To see if you have any palms trees down under.”
At his lame attempt at humor, she felt all her defenses, all her emotional weapons, crumbling. Fighting the urge to step closer, to reach out and check that he wasn’t a figment of a cruel imagination, she forced a glare instead, silently demanding a better explanation.
His grin slid into serious. “I also wanted to thank you for your check.” His words were low, his tone sober. In fact it sounded like he’d forgotten Stella was in the hallway and was propositioning Holly for one more steamy night. Her traitorous knees trembled.
“Huh?” Confused, she shook her head and breathed deeply, her lungs in desperate need of oxygen and her limbs in need of a wall to lean on. She couldn’t think with him so damn close.
“The check for the shelter. It was more than generous.”
“Oh…that check.” Her heart sank and she felt her cheeks heating in embarrassment. Being drunk and caught saying stupid things, even finding Daisy and Ian in the throes of passion, didn’t come close to this humiliation. How could he be so cruel? Was he still treating their liaison like a game? Who came halfway across the world simply to thank someone?
The answer took another step closer to her. Nate. What might be excessive to most, was normal for Nate—he didn’t do anything by half. Well fine, she could thank him politely, send him on his way and get back to nursing her pathetically broken heart.
Before Holly had the chance to say another word, Nate turned to Stella. “Do you mind giving us some privacy?”
What? He wanted to be alone with her? Holly hadn’t expected any such request. Stella immediately looked to Holly for direction. Only Holly was so confused that all she could do was nod. “It’s okay,” she managed when Stella still hadn’t budged. Nate could do no further harm to a heart which already ached in her chest as if it had been trampled beyond repair. She just wanted to get this over quickly. “I’ll be fine,” she lied.
Stella bit her lip, shuffled back and forward on the spot and then glared at Nate. “You hurt her and you’ll have me to deal with.”
* * *
Despite Nate’s palms sweating more than they ever had in his life and his heart pounding, he liked this feisty friend of Holly’s. She had spunk and was fiercely protective of the woman he loved. Still, he was very happy to hear the front door shut behind her.
“Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Tea?” Holly had already rushed past him into the kitchen, busying herself so she didn’t have to look at him. She acted like he was an unexpected, unwanted guest and he hoped like hell he wasn’t too late.
Wiping his palms against his jeans, he called after her, “No. I’m fine,” but she didn’t stop.
He followed to find her tugging open cupboards and grabbing unopened packets of biscuits, cups, coffee. His chest ached—he’d done this to her. He’d treated her so badly she could barely stand to look at him. Next, she flung open the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk. He should probably have made an attempt to stop her frantic catering efforts—the last thing he wanted to do was eat or drink—but he thought it best to let her get it out of her system. Besides, watching her was strangely alluring. Others might think him crazy to think her wild antics beautiful but, if he forgot he was the cause, it was mesmerizing. Everything about her intrigued him. He simply couldn’t get enough of her. Fool that he was, it had taken her leaving and then his sister and Linc to drum it into his thick head that what he felt was love. And that he had as much right to feel it, to want it and to make a go of it as anyone else did.
“Damn, I missed you,” he said, closing the gap between them. He stepped close, unable to keep his distance any longer. He wanted to touch her, to feel her. He needed to confess his feelings and make her believe.
How she heard him over all the clatter he didn’t know, but she turned and froze, her eyes boring into him when she realized he was less than a yard away. “What did you say?” Her voice cracked on the last word.
“I missed you.” He held up his hands as if owning up to a crime. And, if he hadn’t come to his senses, it would have been. But whether or not she’d forgive him was anyone’s guess. Maybe
she’d
come to
her
senses, and realized she didn’t love him. The thought panicked him into a rush of words. “I know you’ve barely been gone two days but I missed you. I can’t think about anything but you. You’re making me crazy.” He took another step toward her and saw her chest heave as she sucked in a breath. “Why else do you think I’m here?” he asked.
Silence reigned for a moment. He heard the distant ticking of a clock, like a time bomb. Nothing compared to the anxious ticking of his heart.
Then, eventually, she spoke. “I don’t know, Nate. It’s been a mystery to me since I heard you talking to Stella.”
Her words were so cold, as if detached from her. He’d never really imagined she wouldn’t fall into his arms, but suddenly this was a very real fear. Despite his untoward beginnings, when he put his mind to something, he achieved. This was the reason he’d been scared of love—the other person’s feelings were out of his control. He wracked his brain, desperate for the right words to prove himself.