by Karen Swan
Tara grinned. ‘I’ve sort of forgiven him for that now.’
‘I’m not sure I have. I’ve got PTSD from dealing with the bloody aftermath.’
‘You’re fine,’ Tara chuckled.
Holly looked at her, suddenly serious. ‘Am I, though?’
‘What do you mean?’ Tara frowned, watching as the jokes faded from her friend’s eyes. It was always worrying when Hols grew serious.
‘. . . Sometimes I feel so guilty.’
‘About what?’
‘About me getting what you wanted so badly – Dev, Jimmy, all the stuff I gave you crap about.’
Tara was stunned. It had never once occurred to her that Holly might have felt this way. ‘Hols, no! I never resented you for it. Not for a minute.’
‘Really, though?’
Holly looked back at her and for the first time Tara saw the scar tissue in her friend too, the twists of fate that had spun them all around, throwing their crystal-clear career paths, life goals and thrusting ambitions into complete disarray. None of them were living the lives they would have predicted for themselves ten years earlier – and yet somehow, against the odds . . . hadn’t things largely worked out? ‘Really.’
‘Oh God. He’s nearly here.’ A secretive smile crept onto Holly’s lips. ‘Just stay calm.’
‘I am calm. You’re the one who needs a sedative . . . What’s that smile for?’ Tara asked suspiciously.
‘I was just thinking how sweet it was, the way he came down a mountain looking for you that day and then went straight back up it again – he was like Rambo in chinos! Even after Rory biffed him on the nose.’
‘Rory punched him?’
‘Fully justified if Alex was going to kiss his girlfriend and make him listen to it, let’s be honest,’ Holly shrugged. ‘At least he got to restore his honour.’
Tara grinned and Holly watched her, seeing how she couldn’t quite bring her mouth down from a smile or dial back the light in her eyes. She gave a heavy sigh. ‘So this is how it’s going to be from now on, is it? He’s really the one?’
Tara looked at her. ‘You know as well as I do – he was always the one.’
An enigmatic look came upon her friend again. ‘Well then, in that case . . .’ And she leaned in to whisper a secret.
‘You came back.’
She turned to face him and the electricity zipped between them, quicksilver, making a mockery of words. ‘Of course.’
They both let the words hang for a moment, both adjusting to the other’s proximity again.
‘. . . I didn’t know if you’d be here today,’ he said finally, looking out at the crowd and then back at her again. Leaning on the crutches brought him down almost to her height. He looked hesitant, almost nervous, and she realized he didn’t remember that she had sat with him for the three days before she’d had to return. Internal injuries had meant he had been sedated and largely unconscious at the hospital. He must have thought she’d just . . . gone.
‘How could I miss it? This is the big day,’ she said, watching him trying to read her for sarcasm or rebuke. ‘Are you pleased?’
‘That you’re back?’
She smiled. ‘That the handover’s happened.’
‘Oh.’ He nodded, looking embarrassed. ‘Yeah. I am.’
‘Me too.’ Her eyes roamed his face. It was so good even just to see him again. She longed to reach over and stroke the curve of his cheek, to trace the contours of his profile, to smell his hair, to nuzzle in the crook of his neck and tickle him, to make real what hadn’t yet been said between them.
He looked down at the ground and back at her. ‘You know, I was going to come back to London the second they cleared me to fly.’
She paused for a moment, seeing the desperation in his eyes. ‘Well, that would have been unfortunate.’ Her own eyes sparkled. ‘If I’d been over here only to find you’d gone over there.’
He gave a squint of confusion. ‘. . . You over here?’
‘I had to go back to work my notice and . . . see through some processes. But I would have been pretty hacked off to do all that and get back here, only to find you’d gone.’
Emotions ran behind his eyes, fast and light. ‘Ta, are you saying . . .?’ His voice thickened and he cleared his throat. ‘Are you saying you forgive me?’
She remembered the sight of him standing in the path of the mudslide, endangering himself to check she was safe. ‘I’m saying, no more apologies,’ she nodded.
He seemed unable to speak for several seconds. He stared at the ground, at her painted toenails in her backless sandals. He looked back at her. ‘You’ve really worked your notice?’
‘I’ve got a clinic here that needs me more.’
‘Not just the clinic.’ His eyes burned into her and the embers that forever smouldered between them ignited into small flames. ‘But what about—?’
‘Rory moved out within a week,’ she said simply.
‘He did?’ Alex looked surprised.
‘He said he’d heard all he needed to hear.’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘Apparently someone left the “speak” button on and he heard every single word of our conversation. As well as the bits where we . . . weren’t speaking.’
She watched as his lips parted. Busted. No excuses. ‘Well . . . all’s fair,’ he said finally, that familiar gleam coming back into his eyes. ‘What did he expect? That I wouldn’t fight for you?’
His hand, his good one, reached for her, pulling her closer. They stared at one another for several long, languid moments before he leaned forward and kissed her, right there.
Someone – they both knew who – whooped from the crowd as they pulled apart with shy laughs.
‘Finally. I get to do that again,’ he whispered.
‘You do.’ She watched his gaze fall to her lips again, and she felt their magnetism draw them in close, closer to one another, everyone else forgotten. They succumbed to another kiss, just the first of many, they already knew. Holly whooped again. ‘. . . What?’ She saw his eyes had narrowed with curiosity.
‘What did she say to you just now?’
‘Who? Hols?’
‘Yeah. She whispered something as I was coming over.’
‘Yes. Because it’s a secret,’ she smiled coyly.
He shook his head faintly, pinning her with those light green eyes. ‘There’s no secrets between you and me. Never again.’
She felt the goosebumps ripple up and down her skin as his eyebrow arched quizzically, just a little, drawing it – everything – from her. ‘She’s eight weeks pregnant.’
His eyes widened with surprise. ‘Really?’ he smiled. ‘Well, that’s pretty great.’
‘Yeah. Conceived in Costa Rica, in fact. I’m so happy for them.’
He was still watching her. ‘. . . And?’ he prompted, still watching her closely. ‘What else did she say?’
‘How do you know there’s more?’
‘There’s always more with Holly.’
She caught her breath and looked away, but he turned her back to face him again. ‘Tell me.’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
He leaned in closer, his gaze drawing her into him. ‘Tell me.’
‘. . . She said we could catch them up.’
Time refracted like a cat stretch, arching its back, moving through space. ‘Well, she’s right. We could.’ A smile drew slowly across his lips. ‘Although we’d need to get practising. There’s not a minute to lose.’
‘How? You’re broken,’ she grinned. ‘Literally broken.’
‘Not everywhere. A couple of broken tibias, a fibula, a few ribs . . . Everyone knows ribs heal quickly. You’re a doctor. You should know that.’ He reached forward and kissed her again and this time she felt the crowd fall away completely. She didn’t care who saw. It was just the two of them, just as it had been during those long dark nights in London.
He pulled back eventually, both of them yearning for more. His eyes shone with a smile that began to play on
his lips. ‘Thing is, though, I’m a pretty conservative guy,’ he said. ‘I had an unconventional childhood, as you know, and I would want our baby . . .’
Our baby. Our baby. The words glittered like they’d been cut from diamonds.
‘. . . to have more security than I had. I would want him – or her – to have my name.’ His eyes were sparkling, a mischief she could see. ‘But I wouldn’t want you to, y’know, agree. Just to be polite.’
She had to suppress the bubble of laughter rising up in her. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said contrarily. ‘What would I be agreeing to?’
‘Marrying me.’
‘You want me to marry you?’
‘I wanted it then. I’ve wanted it ever since . . . Will you, Tara, marry me?’
She stared back at him for a moment, as long as she could manage, before stepping into him and wrapping her arms around his neck. ‘Absolutely,’ she beamed. ‘Thank you so much for asking.’ She kissed him, feeling his smile curve against her own. ‘How kind.’
Acknowledgements
My regular readers will know there’s an army hard at work behind the name written in bold type on the cover. The team at Pan Macmillan are the very best at what they do, but they always make it such fun! This year has been different for us all – meetings held over Zoom instead of our usual lively meet-ups around a conference table, everyone (not just me!) working from home – but they’ve still done an incredible job of making sure the books are as finessed, polished and widely available to you as ever. Pan people, thank you, you make it look easy but I know it’s not.
To my editor Caroline Hogg and my agent Amanda Preston, I feel our team just gets stronger and stronger. You are the start and end point of every book, and your insights and inputs are completely invaluable. Thank you!
Finally, to my family – everything I do is for you and because of you. You are my whole world and I feel like the luckiest person on the planet to live life with you. Thank you for inspiring me to work harder, to keep trying to do better, and for supporting me in all the ways you do. I love you to bits.
The Secret Path
Karen Swan is the Sunday Times top three bestselling author of twenty books and her novels sell all over the world. She writes two books each year – one for the summer period and one for the Christmas season. Previous winter titles include Christmas at Tiffany’s, The Christmas Party and Together by Christmas, and for summer, The Greek Escape, The Spanish Promise and The Hidden Beach.
Her books are known for their evocative locations and Karen sees travel as vital research for each story. She loves to set deep, complicated love stories within twisting plots, sometimes telling two stories in the same book.
Previously a fashion editor, she lives in Sussex with her husband, three children and two dogs.
Follow Karen on Instagram @swannywrites, on her author page on Facebook, and on Twitter @KarenSwan1.
Also by Karen Swan
Players
Prima Donna
Christmas at Tiffany’s
The Perfect Present
Christmas at Claridge’s
The Summer Without You
Christmas in the Snow
Summer at Tiffany’s
Christmas on Primrose Hill
The Paris Secret
Christmas Under the Stars
The Rome Affair
The Christmas Secret
The Greek Escape
The Christmas Lights
The Spanish Promise
The Christmas Party
The Hidden Beach
Together by Christmas
First published 2021 by Macmillan
This electronic edition published 2021 by Macmillan
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
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EU representative: Macmillan Publishers Ireland Limited
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Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-1-5290-0627-8
Copyright © Karen Swan 2021
Cover Images: Woman © Getty Images / Sven Hansche / EyeEm, background © Shutterstock
The right of Karen Swan to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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