‘You don’t need to leave now.’
Her smile faded. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Why?’
She studied him, her expression crumbling. ‘Please, Ivo... I’m trying to make this as easy as possible for us both.’
He stepped away, nodding. She was right. It wasn’t her problem that he felt totally ill-equipped to deal with the fall-out of growing so extraordinarily close to another human being. For so many years he had deliberately isolated himself and in a matter of days Toni had destroyed the comfort and security that had come with that detachment, leaving him feeling more vulnerable now than he had ever felt in his entire life.
Outside, she got into the waiting taxi.
Stupidly he waved, as though that was appropriate or somehow could convey how he wanted to reach out to her, to say he was sorry, and she responded with a saddened shrug that perfectly summed up her disappointment in him.
Paco and Lore chased after the taxi as it twisted away into the olive groves. Just as he should have done, if he weren’t so inhibited by the inability to love without reservation.
CHAPTER NINE
TONI STUMBLED INTO the kitchen and sighed at the breakfast detritus her flatmates had left behind them before they had rushed out to work.
Wincing, she checked the time on her phone charging on the kitchen counter. It was past ten o’clock. She hadn’t intended on staying out so late last night, just as she hadn’t intended on staying out late every night of the past week, but she had always managed to find some excuse to avoid the awfulness of lying in bed unable to sleep, thinking about Ivo.
Walking into the living room, she eyed the recording equipment sitting on her desk. Two weeks had passed since she’d recorded Ivo’s interview. She was scheduled to broadcast it in two days’ time but had yet to edit it. She had found every excuse in the book to avoid listening to it—editing prior interviews, creating a new marketing strategy for the podcast with the PR department at Young Adults Together, cleaning the flat, dragging her flatmates out to parties and gallery openings and drinks in the pub.
But now she had no choice but to edit it today. She had to send it to the palace and Ivo later today to get their approval, and tomorrow she was flying to Amsterdam for another interview. She should be excited. She hadn’t visited Amsterdam in years. But, as with everything else in her life right now, no matter how much she tried to deny it, the joy had gone out of everything she did. She felt flattened. Why had she gone and fallen in love with him? Why hadn’t she been able to not get entangled with him emotionally? Had she allowed the seclusion, the intimacy of his finca, to create a make-believe world that never had a chance of surviving? Had she totally imagined the connection between them? Had it simply been a case of a whole lot of chemistry and very little else for him?
She sighed, remembering the phone calls from Kara and Alice after she had returned to London. Both had wanted to know in great detail how the interview had gone and if she had anything to do with the fact that Ivo was rarely returning to San Jorbo and instead was staying in the palace most evenings. Neither had been subtle in their questioning, Kara eventually admitting that she had hoped that they might get together. Toni had laughed off the suggestion, pointing out the fact that they had so little in common. But Kara had argued that they would balance each other out perfectly. Toni had ended their call at that point, unable to handle Kara’s disappointment that her matchmaking had come to nothing. By rights she should be angry with Kara, but who could blame her friend for hoping that those in her life had the same happiness and contentment that her marriage brought her?
Wiping down the kitchen table and counters while she waited for the kettle to boil, Toni knew she couldn’t put off editing Ivo’s interview any longer.
Coffee cup in hand, she went and sat at her desk. Pulling on her headphones, she selected the first recording in his office, grimacing at the overexcited nervousness in her voice, her heart turning over at his concise replies.
He had stood on his doorstep and waved her goodbye. While she had sat in the taxi, her heart breaking, he had waved her off the way you would a favourite aunt. That had summed up just how easy he had found it when she had left. And he had been right...after all, he had stuck to their deal that there would be no entanglements, just fun. She only had herself to blame. At least she had had the sense to get out of there early. When they had returned to San Jorbo after their trek to San Amaro he had instantly disappeared into his office and she had crazily toyed with the idea of going in and telling him what he meant to her. To what purpose she had no real idea. It was just her usual need to overshare, to wear her heart on her sleeve rearing its idiotic head. Thankfully she had resisted the temptation to emotionally unburden herself to him, realising she would only hurt and humiliate herself in the process. And had poured her nervous energy into changing her flight and packing instead. Needing to take control of the whole situation. Needing to be the one who walked away, rather than being so dangerously close to jumping into yet another relationship which had gaping holes in its very foundations.
Now she closed her eyes at his mention of ice-cream and olive oil in the interview, remembering how he had teased her on the beach. He had never shown her what other uses olive oil could be put to. She pushed away the mental image of him rubbing the golden liquid into her skin...and what would follow as a result.
Her coffee grew cold as she listened to his voice, every sense awake to him, stopping to edit out silences and parts of the interview that didn’t flow with the overall structure.
‘I needed time alone to process what was happening.’
She pressed ‘pause’ at the point in the interview when he had talked about the aftermath of his mum’s death, closing her eyes, trying to think.
A glimmer of hope had her heart doing a cartwheel. Did he just need time? Maybe he would realise that what they had was special. Ugh! Why was she even thinking this way? Why was she so desperate for him to love her? She had stayed with Dan because it had felt safer to do so. Was that why she’d fallen so hard and fast for Ivo, because she’d simply wanted the security of a relationship? Did she truly love Ivo...or was it the thought of a relationship that she loved even more? But relationships terrified her, so why would she even subconsciously want to be in one? Her head was such a mess. How could she long for something that also terrified her?
She pulled out her headphones and went and stood at the bay window overlooking the street below her. Cars were parked along either side of the tree-lined pavement but there wasn’t a soul in sight.
She hated being alone because it reminded her of all the times that her dad had disappeared from her life. The confusion, the wondering of what she had done wrong. She had never felt safe because of it. But in bed with Ivo, when they made love, for the first time ever she had felt safe. In their walks, their time on the beach, she had felt safe in his silence, in how he had made no demands of her but simply looked at her as though she was the most wonderful person he had ever encountered. She hadn’t imagined that...she was certain of it. She might fool herself over many other things in her life, but Ivo’s look of care and fondness wasn’t one of them.
But she couldn’t force him to love her, to want a life he had never envisioned for himself. And she had to stop being so afraid of being alone. She needed to learn to feel safe in her own life.
* * *
Ivo stood on the finca’s terrace as Paco and Lore raced down the path to the beach. Palace life didn’t suit them. Their movements were too restricted and there were too many people shooing them out of the way. At least they were happy to be back in San Jorbo. His gaze trailed over the beach below, the memories of making love to Toni down there grabbing his heart, and the real reason why he had avoided returning to San Jorbo for the past two weeks. Sure, he had stayed in the palace in order to spend time with his family, but avoiding memories of Toni had been the main reason why time and time again h
e had delayed his return home. Most evenings he had managed to return to the palace in time to say goodnight to Gabriela, sharing a beer with Edwin afterwards, chatting about the most recent economic news, acting as a sounding board for Edwin’s concerns over the Monrosian economy. And after that he would visit Luis and Alice in their villa in the grounds of the palace, more often than not staying for dinner, getting much needed light relief in the constant teasing banter they drew him into, Luis, ever the competitor, challenging him to compete against him in triathlons, insisting he was the fitter of them both. And afterwards he would sometimes drop in to see his father. They had been uncomfortable visits, awkward after so many years of distance. But he was tired of pretending he didn’t need a relationship with his father. Because he did. He needed his guidance...his love. He needed to belong to his family.
The sun was fading. He should go for a swim before night fell. But instead he closed his eyes, listened to the cicadas, waiting for the wash of peace that usually came when he returned to San Jorbo after the chaos of a working day.
But the image of Toni, sitting next to him in the studio that first night she arrived, enthusiastically embracing his art, haunted him. He had shown her who he was. Private. Introverted. Damaged. Not an easy person to live with. And she had accepted him. On their last day together, when she had interviewed him for the podcast he had seen with his own eyes how carefully she’d tried to balance his need for privacy with her own need for an in-depth interview. Why, then, had he shut down the moment she announced that she was leaving? Did asking her to stay terrify him that much? Was he so conditioned to a single life that it was intractable now? But he had to face facts—he could never give her his absolute conviction in the truth and rightness of their relationship. Could you really commit to a relationship if you didn’t believe in your own capacity to honour the openness and honesty that were fundamental to its survival?
But hadn’t her hope and belief in him been what he had been searching for all his life? Someone who believed in him? Someone who had the same hopes and dreams for a shared future?
He threw his head back and studied the darkening sky, Venus shining as brilliantly and defiantly as ever.
He didn’t want to be alone. His mother had died so young...she had had so many years of happiness robbed from her. Years of seeing her sons grow up. Years of loving the husband who idolised her. She had been robbed of seeing the birth of her first grandchild.
He may not have been able to save her the day of her fall, but he could honour her memory a whole lot better than he was doing right now.
He needed to be true to himself. He needed to admit that he wanted love...and to be loved. He closed his eyes. What if she didn’t want his love? And didn’t love him? When they had made love, when she would touch him whenever she passed him, when he caught her staring at him, when she gave him her absolute attention as though validating everything that was him, all those things had felt like real and meaningful love. He wasn’t used to listening to his instincts, preferring logic instead. But deep inside of him, if he discarded his entrenched fears for a moment, he believed that Toni did love him.
He had to tell her what was truly inside him. Every fear and failure, every hope and dream for their future. He needed to speak. But above all else he needed to be fair. And his silence and withdrawal weren’t fair on her.
He worked his jaw in frustration. He knew how hurt she was over her relationship with Dan. The damage her father had inflicted on her. He knew how sensitive she was, her need for assurance. To feel safe.
And he had failed to meet every single need she had from a relationship in his silence. He hadn’t given her the lifelines, the essential components, which any relationship needed but were even more vital to Toni—true intimacy, security, trust and honesty. He wanted to make amends for how he had messed up...but what if he couldn’t? What if she didn’t want him to? Worst of all, what if he was the totally wrong person for her? What if she needed a more sensitive, more giving, less complicated person? What if he couldn’t make her happy?
* * *
With her flight not for another few hours, Toni had planned on visiting the Rijksmuseum, but the long line of queuing tourists had had her turn away.
Her interview with renowned chef Evi Kaag had been stimulating and thought-provoking. Evi’s passionate creativeness in the kitchen was matched by her dedication to mentoring her staff to exacting standards whilst also allowing them the space to experiment and fulfil their own creative needs. A mum of three, Evi, together with her husband Christian, had created a home full of love and laughter. But Evi had spoken candidly about how she struggled to balance all of the demands in her life, her regrets over her first marriage failing and her ongoing worry of caring for her elderly parents.
It had been an open and frank interview and had driven home just how tense and awkward her interviews with Ivo had been. Okay, so towards the end he had opened up, but had she really got to know him? Her time with Evi had increased an underlying nagging doubt that she still truly didn’t know the man nicknamed the Machine.
And yet, despite all of that, she missed him. She missed his calmness, his warm looks that made every inch of her skin fizzle and her heart dance with joy, his kindness and humanity. She missed his quiet solidness, how he tried to be true to himself, how little ego he had.
Walking over a pedestrian bridge, bicycles whizzing by, she spotted a free bench along the canalside and dragged her suitcase over to it. Sitting down, she heard her phone ping in her handbag. It was yet another message from Kara, wondering if she was still with Evi. She typed no, explaining that earlier Evi and her family had left for their holiday home on the island of Ameland and that she was currently enjoying the views alongside the Herengracht canal, desperate to appear upbeat even if inside she felt numb.
As she popped her phone back into her handbag her attention was drawn to a young couple sitting on a bench on the opposite side of the canal. She could tell by their gentle teasing and tentative touching that their relationship was new. And the sensation that something extremely precious had escaped her came back with a vengeance. Along with the question that if life had been different for them both, could their relationship have been as easy and natural as it was for the couple across the way? Would she and Ivo have glided into a relationship without any reservations? How wonderful it must be to be able to love without hesitation, to be able to accept love with an open heart.
‘I was looking for you.’
She leapt off the bench. And stared at Ivo. Her heart lurching in disbelief. ‘Did you have to creep up on me like that?’
Her shock evaporated in the face of his sombre expression. She swallowed hard. The dappled shade of a nearby tree cast shadows over the hard lines of his face. Her heart stumbled and tripped. He looked so foreboding, so tense, so cut off from her.
He gestured to the bench. ‘Let’s sit down.’
She nodded but dread started to settle in her stomach. Why was he being so formal?
Sitting, she inched away from him when he sat close to her, the distance suddenly of vital importance. The need to protect herself from whatever was to come panicking her.
‘Is this about the podcast? Your office said you were happy for it to be broadcast. Was your father unhappy with it? I know it was revealing, but the feedback has been incredible. Ask Kara.’
‘I’m not here about the interview... I’m here to apologise.’
Toni’s eyes widened. ‘For what? And how did you find me in the first place?’
‘Kara.’
‘So that’s what all of her messages were about.’ But then, her eyes widening even more, she asked, clearly horrified, ‘How did you explain wanting to know where I was? That’s all I need right now, Kara suspecting something.’
‘I told my family about us.’
‘Why on earth did you do that? Ivo...seriously! That’s going to complicate my l
ife even further. I told Kara and Alice that nothing happened between us. I’m now going to have them on my case. Just great.’
She flicked her gaze away from him, her mouth pursed.
Great start, Ivo.
He dipped his head, the words he needed to say fading, the instinct to lapse into silence when he felt uncertain flooding back with a vengeance. He gripped his fists tight, fighting the fear that he wasn’t deserving of her love. That he could never be open enough to match her need for honest transparency.
Searching for the right words, he looked at her, the hunger of his need to simply watch her stunning him by its ferocity. He had missed her even more than he had admitted to himself. His throat tightened, the true loneliness of her absence intensifying now that he had found her.
The light breeze danced in her hair, sending golden brown strands over her heated cheeks. He had never met someone so beautiful. He prized every tiny detail of her, the ordinary in her a constant source of marvel and worship. The bow in her upper lip. The tight whorl of her ears. The random smattering of dark freckles along her arms. Just how incredible she looked in the simple white T-shirt and jeans she was wearing today.
She turned and gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Ivo, are you going to say something or are you just going to sit there and stare at me? For crying out loud, why did you tell your family about me? What was the point?’
‘You were the one who said we should be honest.’
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