He frowned. ‘That wasn’t a dig at you.’
‘I know.’ She gave him a small, tight smile. ‘You don’t pull your punches, Basa. If you wanted to bad-mouth Charlie and Raymond you wouldn’t be coy about it.’
She was right. He thought back to how he had spoken to her before. He had been so harsh, so unforgiving, both in his manner and in his choice of words.
‘I was angry. I still am angry with them. They had no reason to steal.’ A hardness crept into his voice, and his hands were suddenly clenching so tightly that his knuckles felt as though they were about to split apart. ‘They had so much more than so many other people—so much more than those pensioners.’
She hesitated, and then she reached out and grasped his fists, gently uncurled his fingers. ‘I know.’
Her soft expression pulled at some thread inside him and he glanced away. ‘They hurt my father, Mimi. He’s never been strong, and he was shocked and devastated by what they did. He had another stroke—a bad one. I had to take over the business, the foundation...’
Charlie and Raymond had stolen more from him than money. He’d lost the freedom and independence that most twenty-somethings enjoyed and, more importantly he’d lost his father.
There was a moment of silence and then she said quietly, ‘I’m so sorry, Basa.’
Her eyes were clouded with sadness and he could hear the ache of regret in her voice.
‘It’s not your fault, truly, but it was a difficult time.’ He glanced past her at the ridge of mountains in the distance. ‘That’s why I bought this place. To have somewhere away from the world. Somewhere tranquil and safe.’
He hesitated. As a general rule he didn’t talk about himself, and he had never told anyone that before. He’d told his father and Alicia that he’d bought the land as an investment—he hadn’t wanted them to think that he couldn’t cope, or that he was scared, though in fact both had been true.
‘It must have been hard for you,’ she said gently. ‘Being thrown in the deep end like that.’
They were walking now, and he stared at her profile in silence, caught off balance by the note of concern in her voice. He knew his family loved him, but nobody ever really asked him about his feelings, and he’d always been glad, even proud about that, for it meant he was doing his job properly. Now, though, with Mimi’s blue gaze searching his face, he realised that he wanted to share those buried emotions with her.
‘It was hard. It was all such a mess. For months I wasn’t sure if I could save the business. I even thought we might lose Fairbourne.’
He could still remember the cold grip of panic, the need to confide in someone and yet the pressure to stay silent. He’d been so scared, and he’d felt so alone—just like after his mother died.
‘It helped that it wasn’t the first time I’d had to take over. After the accident I was acting CEO for a while—just until my dad got back on his feet.’
He felt her fingers tighten around his.
‘I didn’t know.’
‘It was a long time ago.’ The worry in her eyes and the fact that she cared was messing with his head. ‘Anyway, everything was fine in the end. I managed to sort it.’
‘You didn’t just sort it,’ she protested. ‘You saved it.’
‘It was my responsibility.’ His mouth twisted. ‘It was my fault it happened. I hired Charlie and Raymond. I trusted them.’
‘Why wouldn’t you?’
‘I should have known.’
He felt his shoulders tense, the shame and shock of his stupidity as fresh now as it had been when he’d met his CFO the morning after Alicia’s party.
‘There were signs, little things, but I was so desperate to prove myself, to show my father he could trust me that I just ignored them.’ His eyes rested on her small pale face. ‘After it all fell apart I was so focused on turning everything around I didn’t realise how much it affected the way I interacted with people, but trust is hard to recover once it’s lost.’
‘Yes, it is,’ she said quietly.
* * *
Mimi looked away. It hurt too much to see the pain in his eyes—pain caused by her family, by her stupid, selfish stepfather and equally stupid, selfish uncle.
She stared across the water to where small waves splashed against a series of sharp black rocks. Against the placid surface of the lake, it was easy to focus on their jagged threat—just as she had chosen to focus on Basa’s outward hostility rather than the trauma that had created it. He’d lost his mother when he was not much younger than she was now, and for a time he had been responsible for looking after his family.
Remembering Alicia’s remarks in the car, she felt her heart beat a little faster. He still was.
She could see now that it hadn’t ever really been about him. It had been about herself, and the private fear that once again she had jinxed something that might have been perfect.
Basa seemed so strong, so determined, and she’d judged him as he had her: on outward appearances. Hearing him talk about his family’s name, she had thought he was a snob; when he’d spoken about having rules, she’d thought he wanted to be in control without understanding why he needed to be. She hadn’t understood his deep-seated sense of responsibility for the scandal that had so nearly ruined his father and Alicia.
She knew what it must have taken to turn his business around and restore his family name, and there could be no doubting his love for his family or his sense of responsibility for them and for the pensioners who had been robbed. He had stepped up, and it was incredible what he’d done, given how young he was.
But all injuries left scars: some visible, others less so. And she understood why he found it hard to trust people—her in particular.
All her life she had struggled to trust herself, to trust other people. Her father had started that particular ball rolling. He’d left shortly after her tenth birthday and, devastated by his rejection, her mother had turned for support to her charming but irresponsible brother Raymond, who had introduced her to his best friend Charlie.
Had she ever liked Charlie? Not really—but she’d been desperate to see her mother happy again, so she’d encouraged the relationship.
‘We trusted them too. My mum and me. I trusted them,’ she said slowly.
‘You were a child.’
‘At first, yes. But later I think I knew they weren’t be trusted. Raymond was lovely, but he was always a chancer, and Charlie was so clever at making you believe what he said.’
His face tensed and she braced herself, expecting him to pull away, but instead his fingers locked more tightly around hers. ‘But you didn’t know.’
Yesterday he would have phrased it as a question, but today it was a statement, and she squirreled that away, scared by how happy it made her feel.
‘No,’ she agreed. ‘But I still felt responsible, and stupid, and scared. Especially during the trial.’
His eyes searched her face. ‘It must have been hard.’
Mimi swallowed. Thankfully, it was all a blur. There had been so much happening—so many changes in such a short time. Mostly it had felt like riding a rollercoaster—slow stretches of normality and then a sudden, plunging, terrifying dip.
‘It was exhausting. And confusing. And we were so naïve—or maybe I was naïve. My mum was just out of it.’
‘What do you mean by naïve?’
‘I mean stupid. Dopey.’
She bit her lip, remembering the first time a news story about her had popped up on her phone. It had been like the kind of dream in which you’re naked in public—except she had been awake, and there had been nowhere to hide.
‘I knew it would be bad for Charlie and Raymond. I just never thought me and my mum would be on trial too. But we were, and we didn’t have a barrister to speak for us.’
She looked across the lake to where a bunch of ducks and sw
ans were mobbing a smaller bird.
‘I hated those photographers. They were so insistent, so bullying. But it was never knowing how people were going to be that was the worst.’ Her smile felt as if it was made of papier-mâché. ‘Sometimes they’d be nice to my face, then talk about me behind my back, and other times they just crossed the street really pointedly.’
His jaw hardened. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault.’
‘I didn’t exactly help, though, did I?’ He stared down at her, his dark gaze fixed on her face. ‘And now? How is it now? Is it better?’
The genuineness of his concern made her feel a little dizzy. ‘Most of the time.’
They were back at the house now, and as she gazed across the deck, she searched for the right words.
‘I guess if it hadn’t happened I would have argued more with the lawyers about my film. But I didn’t want to risk someone working out who I am and going to the newspapers.’ She met his gaze. ‘Like you said, trust is hard to recover once it’s lost.’
‘But your life is okay?’
He seemed tense again, and her heart began to pound. Just for a moment she had felt a connection beyond the sexual—a shared understanding of the burden of guilt and responsibility. Now, though, he seemed on edge again, and she didn’t understand why.
‘Yes, it’s fine. I live at home, and that’s okay for now. I have a job I hate, but I like my colleagues, and I have Alicia.’
His eyes were steady and unblinking.
‘Alicia thinks you deserve more. She thinks you need a man in your life.’
‘Alicia’s in love.’ She managed to laugh. ‘Of course she thinks that.’
‘But you don’t?’
She felt a rush of panic at both the dark intensity of his gaze and the unedited answer hovering dangerously on the tip of her tongue, like a swimmer poised on the high-dive board.
‘I don’t really think about it,’ she lied.
She thought about it a lot. Even before her teenage crush on Basa she’d worried about whether she would ever be able to sustain a loving relationship, or if she would mess it up. The thought made her entire body grow tense.
‘Look, I know Alicia wants me to have what she has, but I haven’t met anyone I want to be with in that way...’ She stumbled over the lie. ‘And I don’t want my first time to be with some random man...’
She froze, and there was a long, pulsing silence as her words echoed loudly back and forth across the still stretch of water.
‘Your first time?’ He frowned. ‘What do you mean your first time?’
Her heart was pounding and she could feel the blood rushing to her face.
‘Are you saying you haven’t had sex with anyone?’
She pulled her hand away, flustered as much by his sudden intense focus as by her slip of the tongue. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It doesn’t matter...?’
He sounded confused, and she felt more panic, followed by a rush of irritation.
‘Yes, Basa, it doesn’t matter.’
‘It matters to me.’
‘Why would it? Oh, right.’ She stopped abruptly. ‘I get it. You didn’t believe me yesterday.’
‘That’s not true. I did believe you.’
‘So why the shocked expression?’
His dark gaze narrowed. ‘I don’t know...maybe because you said all that stuff about sampling new flavours.’
She felt her face grow hot. It was true, she had—but only so as not to lose face.
‘Why would you lie about that?’ His mouth tightened.
‘My sex life was...is none of your business. And, frankly, I don’t see how my being a virgin then or now has any effect on this.’ She couldn’t keep the shake out of her voice. ‘Unless in some mad way you think being one makes me some kind of innocent?’
‘No, of course I’m not saying that.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I’m saying that you being a virgin changes the facts, and if you’d just told me that, right at the beginning at that stupid lunch with Alicia and Philip, we wouldn’t have had to go through all of this.’
A red veil was slipping in front of her face. Was he blaming her for his actions? ‘That’s not fair...’ The injustice of his words felt like a blow to the head. ‘You didn’t want to listen to anything I had to say.’
‘Oh, I promise you, Mimi, if you’d told me that I would have listened.’
‘Okay, maybe you would.’ Her pulse was dancing with indignation. ‘But you wouldn’t have believed me, would you?’
He didn’t reply, but she felt no satisfaction at having been proved right. Instead, she was feeling slightly sick—and trapped.
‘So now you know everything there is to know about me, Basa,’ she lied, ‘so this conversation is officially over.’
Spinning around, she walked quickly back into the house, wanting to get as far away as possible from the truth that had followed her halfway around the world. Not the fact that she was a virgin, but the fact that he didn’t trust her and never would.
* * *
Watching her leave, Basa felt his whole body tense. He’d made such a mess of this. And he couldn’t blame Mimi. Although, true to form, he had done exactly that.
He breathed out unsteadily, a splinter of guilt stabbing between his ribs. It had never occurred to him that she might still be a virgin and her admission had caught him off balance. He’d felt angry with her for not telling him, so it had been easy to blame her for making him act irrationally.
But really he was angry and disgusted with himself.
For not bothering to check her level of experience and not letting her give her side of the story.
For not completely believing that she had been a virgin that night.
And for blaming her for his own selfish and shoddy behaviour.
Without realising it he was walking through the house, driven by a sense of purpose he hadn’t felt since the morning after Alicia’s birthday party.
He was going to make this right. And he was going to do it now.
He caught up with her just outside her bedroom door.
‘Mimi—’
‘I don’t want to talk any more, Basa.’ She stepped into her room, holding up her hand to halt him.
‘I know, but I have to say this—please, Mimi.’
He watched her hand tremble as she lowered it.
‘You were right. I didn’t completely believe you and I’m sorry for that—I’m sorry for all of this. I brought you here to prove I was right about you. But I wasn’t. I was wrong.’ He breathed out unsteadily. ‘And you were right about me. I never gave you a chance. I ignored everything Alicia said about you because it was easier—’
Her blue eyes widened. ‘What do you mean?’
He hesitated. It was a secret he’d always kept to himself: that the shock of Charlie and Raymond’s betrayal had hurt less than believing Mimi hadn’t wanted him that night.
‘That night at Fairbourne I wanted you so badly it hurt, and I thought you wanted me.’
‘I did,’ she said shakily.
‘I know.’ He corrected himself. ‘I know that now. But that night I thought you’d played me. And then, when everything came out, I was so angry with you, with myself, I let that anger blank out everything else. Only, this is not who I am, Mimi, and I’m ashamed of myself for behaving like this. I’m so sorry if the way I acted that night put you off getting involved with anyone else.’
She was staring at him, her face framed in the light from the window.
‘It didn’t. Not in the way you mean. I could have had sex with other men, but I didn’t want to because...’ She hesitated. ‘Because none of them made me feel the way you did just by looking at me.’ Her mouth trembled. ‘The way you still make me feel.’
His heart seemed to have doubled in size.
‘Do you mean that?’
His pulse jumped as she nodded slowly.
He lifted his hand and gently caressed her cheek. ‘I haven’t been able to get you out of my head,’ he said softly.
Her eyes widened. ‘Really?’
Staring down into her face, he nodded. ‘Really. I wish I’d said something sooner, but mostly I wish I’d done this...’
Capturing her head, he lowered his mouth and kissed her lightly, moving his lips across hers, his body hardening as he heard her breath catch in her throat.
* * *
Mimi felt her stomach clench with need. Her head was spinning. His lips were soft but firm, and he smelled of clean air and beech leaves. He was all she’d ever wanted—but she’d been here before and it was hard to forget how it had ended.
She felt her body stiffen at the memory of those long minutes of waiting for him to return.
‘It’s okay.’
Sensing her hesitation, he broke the kiss, his dark gaze searching her face.
‘It’s just a kiss,’ he said soothingly.
‘I don’t want it to be just a kiss. But I don’t want it to go wrong again.’
‘Easy...’ He pulled her closer, cupping her face. ‘It won’t go wrong. But there’s no rush. Do you need time to think?’
‘I’ve had time.’ Shakily, she reached out and rested her hand on his chest, feeling the swift, unsteady beat of his heart. ‘A long time. And I want to make love with you. Here. Now.’
His breathing jerked and she felt his heart accelerate beneath her palm.
‘I want that too,’ he said hoarsely.
His gaze slid slowly down her body and then he began to kiss her again, nudging her gently back towards the bed, his fingers slipping under her top, sliding over her skin, slow and soft and sure.
‘Okay?’
He lifted his face to hers and she nodded. Then, with fingers trembling, she pressed her hand against the hard push of his erection. He sucked in a breath and her stomach clenched at his obvious hunger for her, at the size of him. How could she give this man what he needed?
Craving His Forbidden Innocent Page 11