Midsummer Man

by Zelah Roberts

  “Damn it, because I needed to!” He heard a chair clatter and something smash against a wall. Leonie had thrown her glass, he thought, with considerable force.

  “Why?” Holly’s voice was fierce. “Why?”

  “Holly… Oh, Holly…because…I was angry. I was so angry… I hated the world and I hated myself. I just didn’t care anymore!”

  There was a stark silence. Mac felt like every muscle in his body was knotted. To hear that his sister had felt like that… He’d thought she’d been happy in London. He’d had no idea…

  “Freedom, Holly,” Leonie said bleakly. “I’m like Drake. I need freedom. I was sick of feeling trapped. Mac’s a wonderful brother. I love him more than I could ever tell you, and when we were children, he looked after me, almost like a parent. But he’s found it hard to let go since I got older. I moved to London. I wanted to make my own way, but he found me the apartment I have now. And the day before the kidnapping, I discovered that the concierge of the building, Fred, was in touch with Mac, telling him how I was getting on. I felt spied on, betrayed…”

  Mac flinched. He’d never imagined anything like this, never. He had never asked Fred to update him on Leonie, though he had once jokingly said, ‘Keep in touch.’ He could only guess that Fred, who had two grown-up daughters of his own, had taken that as a request to keep a fatherly eye on her. It was true he did get the occasional e-mail from the older man, but he’d never thought anything of it. He swallowed hard, wishing he too had a brandy in his hand.

  “So… so I went to Brighton to see my boyfriend, Alex. I just wanted someone to talk to.”

  Wait! Leonie had a boyfriend?

  “I turned up unexpectedly.”

  Mac’s heart plummeted.

  “And I found him there…not alone. I came back to London, and I was so full of hell, so upset. I was trying to block it all out with speed…and the sunroof down…and music blasting… And, well, you know what happened then.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you know what the worst thing is?”

  Mac braced himself. There was worse?

  “The worst thing is Mac. Since I’ve been back, he’s never, ever said he blamed me. Never asked why I was so stupid, even though he’d told me to be careful. But I know he’s thinking it. Blaming me. He must be. All this trouble… And he had to borrow so much money at an obscene rate of interest just to get the ransom together in case they couldn’t find me. He was going to pay millions, everything he had. It would have ruined him. And even though he didn’t pay the ransom, he’s paid so much money for me to be in your book…and I don’t deserve it. He must be so angry. He must hate me. And now he thinks I tried to kill myself. I saw the pain I caused him in his eyes, and I can’t bear it.”

  He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Leonie, his precious sister, thought he was angry with her, that he hated her?

  “No.” Holly’s dispassionate voice was the calm in the storm. “You’re a grown woman. You have a right to your own freedom and independence. If Mac asked someone to watch over you, he was wrong, and you were entitled to object.”

  Well, at least she’d said ‘if’—

  “You felt betrayed twice over—by Mac and your boyfriend. Naturally, you were upset. Naturally, you looked for ways to let off steam…as you are free to do. Then you were taken. Whose fault was it?”

  “But I—”

  “Whose fault was it, Leonie?”

  “I—”

  “Whose fault was it?”

  “It was theirs!” He heard Leonie give a sob, a hiccup. Then there was a sound of a nose being blown and a sigh. Then he heard her say resignedly, “Okay. Yes. It was theirs. The kidnappers. Their fault, not mine.”

  “Yes. Not yours. You were innocent, and they shouldn’t have done that to you.”

  “No, they shouldn’t.”

  Mac wiped a shaky hand over his damp face. He could hear the belief, the acceptance, in Leonie’s voice. She had needed someone to tell her that.

  Holly’s quiet voice broke into his thoughts. “And what’s more, I’d bet good money that Mac doesn’t see it as your fault either.”

  “You…would?”

  Of course he didn’t.

  “I would,” he heard Holly say, firmly. “You thought Mac would blame you because you were blaming yourself. He doesn’t. He may be angry at what the kidnappers did, but he’s not angry at you.”

  No, he damn well wasn’t.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “And as for spending money to get you in this book, if you don’t respect his right to make independent decisions about his spending, how can you complain if he doesn’t respect your right to independence?”

  Silence. Then Leonie sighed. “Fair point.”

  He heard the misery and distress in Leonie’s soft voice and couldn’t take it anymore. Without a moment’s further thought, he shoved open the door.

  “Leonie—”

  “Mac!” Leonie’s cry was shocked. She went to push past him, to get out—

  “Oh, hell, no.” He caught her arm and swung her round into a hug she wasn’t going to get out of any time soon. Burying his face in her hair, he kissed the top of her head and breathed in her precious scent. He felt her tremble, heard a muted snuffle against his shoulder.

  He squeezed his eyes closed. If Holly hadn’t triggered this conversation, he would never have known how Leonie was feeling. And why not? Because he’d become the kind of man who told, rather than listened. Well, no more. No more. He breathed deeply and whispered, “Leonie, just…let me hug you. Please. You’re safe, you’re here and I love you. I never blamed you, I don’t hate you and never ever thought it was your fault. How could you think that?”

  “Mac, I’m sorry.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I rather think Holly made that point.”

  He glanced over at Holly, surprising an expression on her face that he was sure she had not wanted him to see. It was a look of yearning wistfulness mixed with hope and warmth and…love? It quickly turned to shock as she realised he was looking at her, and she instantly replaced it with a bland, neutral smile.

  “Even so—”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” he said before dropping a kiss on Leonie’s hair then looking up again at Holly. But true to form, she’d slipped out of the room. Of course she had. He was in it. And he still hadn’t managed to talk to her.

  He held his sister in his arms and closed his eyes. He would talk with Leonie, set things straight. Apologise and explain. Make some agreements for the future. He knew in his heart of hearts now that they had got to the root of things, she would start to recover. It would be a long road, but together they would get there.

  It was Holly who had done this. Holly who had achieved the impossible—giving his sister the will to live, discovering what was the matter, showing him where he had been going wrong. He was so grateful, and so in awe of her perspicacity. She was an amazing woman.

  But he was keenly aware that gratitude was not the first emotion that came to mind when he thought of Holly—nor was passion, though he felt it surge through him whenever she was near. Hell, she didn’t have to be near. Whenever he thought about her—which was all the time—what he felt was stronger, purer, more powerful than that.

  Emily had betrayed him in the worst way possible and had hurt him to such a degree that he’d thought he could never recover.

  But for Holly, he could.

  Because he was sure, absolutely sure that Holly would never deliberately hurt him…or anyone else. She was kind. She was clever. And he’d stake his life on the certainty that he could trust her.

  His heart lightened, and sudden optimism blossomed in him. He could heal his relationship with Leonie. He could get together with Holly. No longer did his future stretch before him like a barren wasteland.

  He could be happy.

  They could be happy.

  He just needed to convince her of that.

 
Chapter Seven

  Holly was still running from him.

  That afternoon, he talked with Leonie for hours. They were honest and open, and he got to know his sister the adult, rather than his sister the teenager. They talked about his over-protective instincts and her need for freedom. They talked about their parents, the business and their hopes for the future.

  Leonie smiled shyly at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Alex,” she said.

  “Alex?”

  “My ex-boyfriend…the rat. I was afraid you might play the heavy big brother and disapprove. He had tattoos…and he was a cage fighter in his spare time.”

  Mac’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  Laughing, Leonie admitted, “No, not really. Only teasing. Well, he did have the tattoos…but he was actually a bouncer.”

  “Oh, well, that’s all right then,” he said, dryly. A bouncer? Hell. “Listen… I’m sorry if I ever made you feel I would disapprove of your choices. I promise that from now on I’ll do my best only to give my opinion or advice if I’m asked for it.”

  “Okay.”

  “And about your concierge Fred… As I said, I really didn’t ask him to report on you, but he does send me emails now and again. I’ll show them to you. They don’t really say anything about what you’re doing, but I’ll ask him to stop sending them.”

  “No. If you didn’t ask him then that’s enough for me.”

  “Even so, I’m sorry.”

  Leonie shook her head impatiently. “Okay, that’s enough of the humility now, big brother. I do still value your views, you know. And that being the case… What do you think of James?”

  “Not my type,” he answered promptly.

  “Idiot!” She paused. “No, really…”

  Mac looked at her and smiled. “You like him?”

  “Mmm.”

  “He…ah…feels the same way?”

  She raised an awkward shoulder. “He hasn’t said anything, but I think…maybe.”

  “He’s a good man. You could do worse.”

  “Yes. I did.”

  He glanced at her, ruefully. “Ah, well… You don’t find your prince without kissing a few frogs first.”

  She laughed then asked, “What about you? Is Holly your princess?”

  He looked at his sister then, keenly aware that this was the first personal conversation they’d ever really shared as adults on an even level. “I’d like her to be,” he said quietly.

  “Ah.” Leonie looked at him sympathetically. “You’ve just got to convince her of that, right?”

  “Yes. I think it’ll be an uphill battle. I gather she had a bad relationship.”

  Leonie nodded. “I thought as much. She never talks about her past.”

  Mac frowned, thinking back over all the conversations they’d had. “No, she really doesn’t, does she?” he said slowly.

  * * * *

  That evening, to his intense frustration, Holly pleaded a headache and didn’t come down for supper. The following morning, she was still nowhere to be seen.

  James, damn him, noticed. As they sat working in the office after breakfast, he asked wryly, “So, what have you done to upset Holly?”

  Mac scowled. “It’s my own stupid fault,” he muttered. “I pushed her too hard, and now her defences are up.”

  James raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yes?” he said, mildly.

  Deceptively mildly. Mac cast a glance at him and realised what he was thinking. “Not like that!” He shook his head. “The first night she was here, I was talking to her and realised something was bothering her. I…” He grimaced. “I carried on like some Victorian father, demanding she tell me what was wrong.”

  Amused, James said, “And she told you to back off?”

  “Yeah. But I kept on pushing…”

  James shook his head. “Well, you’ll not make that mistake again.”

  “No. I’m out in the cold, well and truly.”

  “She’s freezing you off?”

  “Mmm. Can’t get near her. She’s using Leonie as a shield.”

  “So what were you talking about? You must have struck a real nerve. Holly’s pretty self-contained, normally.”

  That gave Mac pause. James was right. What had caused that look on her face? He cast his mind back. “We were talking about Leonie, about how she didn’t want to talk about the kidnapping, and she just got this look of—I don’t know—horror? Fear? Whatever it was, it shocked me enough that I made a right hash of talking to her about it.”

  Thinking it over, James asked “What do you know of Holly’s past, Mac?”

  “Not much. She plays her cards close to her chest. Leonie says she doesn’t talk to her about it, either.”

  James’ eyes narrowed, assessing. “You said someone sent her a dead rat? And the police are dealing with it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think I’ll make some enquiries. I don’t like it. Something’s off. I’ll contact the detective you mentioned and offer my services.”

  Mac nodded. It had been two weeks since Jenna had confirmed her lack of progress. Since then, her occasional e-mails had revealed only frustration as she trawled through fan websites, to no avail. It didn’t look like the investigation was making any headway at all. But maybe James, with all of Liberty’s resources at his disposal, would have better luck.

  “Okay,” he said, slowly. “Do that. I’ll pay for it.”

  James shook his head. “No, I’ll sort it…as a thank you for what she’s done for Leonie.”

  Mac hid a smile. So, James really does care about Leonie. “Okay.”

  James nodded, then said thoughtfully, “I might have an idea about how you can get Holly on her own. I’ve been thinking that it’s about time Leonie went back to London for a visit. She needs to start getting her life back together. She’s becoming too dependent on the island. I don’t want her to get to the stage where she’s too scared to leave it anymore. I must go back for a few days anyway. Things are piling up at work. I thought I’d go tomorrow morning. There’s fog forecast by lunchtime and I don’t want to get trapped here. How about if I try to talk Leonie into coming with me?”

  Mac glanced sharply at the younger man. There was something awkward about his tone.

  “Okay,” he said, slowly, “if you think she’s ready for it.”

  “I do.”

  “But?”

  He watched as James picked up his pen and twirled it absently between his fingers. He looked uncomfortable.

  Mac suddenly had an inkling of what James’ problem might be. He said casually, “I…uh…had a chat with Leonie, yesterday. I overheard her talking to Holly and realised we had some things to sort out.”

  “Yes, I know. Leonie told me.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Mac paused and waited until the younger man raised his head and looked at him. He caught his gaze and held it. “I told her I would respect her decisions. She’s old enough to make her own choices about things.”

  “Yes.”

  “I think she’ll make good choices.”

  A muscle pulsed in James’ jaw. He said nothing.

  Mac smiled faintly. “If you want to, go for it.”

  The pen fell from James’ fingers and landed on the desk with a clatter. “You don’t mind?”

  Mac shook his head. “Whatever happens between you two is your business. But for what it’s worth, you have my blessing.”

  “Well…thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  * * * *

  Holly sat on the sheltered beach, propped up against a sun-warmed granite boulder worn smooth by wind and rain, and looked out across the Atlantic. It was a blustery day, and tiny whitecaps could be seen cresting far out to sea. Leonie had said that when that happened, it was rough out there, and the seagulls would head towards land. It was true. Shrieking terns and skuas dived and wheeled across the waves but remained close to the island. But here in this sheltered spot, it was warm enough.

  It was the first time Holly had
had the chance to investigate the island on her own. That morning, James had asked Leonie if she would go with him to London for a few days. He needed to visit his office there, and he wanted to check that Holly’s home was all right.

  Leonie had bitten her lip and looked deeply apprehensive. She hadn’t been back to London since the kidnapping. But James had smiled gently at her and held out his hand.

  ‘I’ll look after you,’ he’d promised, softly, and Holly had seen in his expression far more than professional concern. She rather thought that Leonie saw it too, because with a tremulous smile she stood up and took his hand in hers.

  ‘All right, then,’ she’d said, clearly mustering courage, ‘but you’re buying lunch!’

  And so they’d taken off. Holly had waved the helicopter away with some misgivings then promptly decided to take the opportunity to explore the island in Leonie’s absence.

  And if, in doing so, she managed to avoid Mac, all the better.

  So here she was. She’d walked a couple of miles, enjoying the wild drama and freedom of moorland and the jagged cliffs, before finding this quiet little cove. Now she rummaged in her bag and pulled out an apple. Sitting back against the warm stone, she bit into the crisp, sweet, almost fizzy-tasting flesh and closed her eyes. Delicious. Coloured spots danced beneath her eyelids as the sun stroked over her face and she relaxed.

  The walk had given her time to mull over things. She felt reasonably positive that her visit was helping Leonie. She was confiding in her about all sorts of things. She’d talked about her childhood, the loss of her parents and even about Mac’s ex-fiancée. Holly had tried to stop her, feeling she was invading Mac’s privacy, until she realised that Leonie was blaming herself for their breakup. Then she’d just shut up and listened, knowing the young woman needed to express her feelings. She’d also tried to encourage Leonie to talk to a professional about her kidnapping and knew that Leonie was now giving it some serious consideration.

  As she was. Since her conversation with Mac, she had been struggling with her feelings. She had hated hurting Mac by criticising him so bluntly, but she wasn’t sure if her reaction suggested that she was weak like her mother or if it was just the natural response to upsetting someone she cared about.