‘My PA got a call ten minutes ago, asking her to confirm that you and I are a couple. That was her on the phone. She was trying to warn me, but she was too late.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.
She saw that his muscles were straining against his suit jacket, but even if they hadn’t been she could feel his frustration, his anger vibrating off his skin like radio waves. And she couldn’t blame him for being angry. He had warned her back in Buenos Aires about this happening and she had ignored him. And now they were all going to pay for her recklessness in leaving his home.
All of them—including Alicia.
Her best friend. Who was getting married in just a few months’ time.
Her heart stopped beating.
She felt a sharp stab of realisation as the air in her lungs seemed to thin. How was this going to affect the wedding? And how must Alicia be feeling now she had heard about Mimi and Basa allegedly having some kind of relationship? Of course she wanted to believe that Alicia would be happy, but even if she was the timing was so bad. Mimi felt as though the room was tilting, as though she was drunk, but it wasn’t the brandy making the world spin off its axis. It was her. She’d messed everything up.
His next words—or rather the distance in his voice as he spoke them—confirmed her fears.
‘It’s my fault. I should have made it clearer to you what was at stake if you left the house.’
But she had known what was at stake.
Her lungs seemed to shrivel, along with any hopes she might have had of making things work with Basa. Those hopes were gone now, thrown away by her in that smoke-filled street in Buenos Aires.
‘You did tell me,’ she said quietly. ‘I just didn’t believe you.’
It was a fitting conclusion to a relationship that had been destined not to happen. How could it when neither one of them had ever known when the other was telling the truth.
‘This isn’t about what I told you or what you believed. This is about you and me sleeping together—and that’s on me as much as it is on you. More so,’ he added. ‘I’m in the public eye twenty-four-seven, so I knew the risks. I ignored them because you were worth it. So don’t blame yourself.’
There was a beat of silence, and she felt a slow trickle of despair work its way down her spine as he pulled out his phone. He was being so reasonable, so nice, but whatever he said she knew he was just being kind out of guilt or concern.
She watched miserably as his expression hardened at the sight of something on his screen.
‘What matters now is damage limitation,’ he said. ‘But you don’t need to worry. I’m going to take care of this.’
Mimi stared at him, her heartbeat slowing. He was a good man. A good brother. A good son. He would work day and night to protect his family, to protect her, and she loved him for that. But she wasn’t his responsibility and she didn’t want to be his responsibility. Nor was she going to throw her best friend under a bus for the sake of a few passion-filled days in Patagonia.
So there were two ways of doing this.
She could sit it out and wait for Basa to grow tired of her—because he would grow tired of her. And he might even end up hating her again once the media got stuck in. Or she could make it easy for both of them. Make it so that her best friend’s wedding wasn’t overshadowed by the scandal that had so nearly ruined the Caine family two years ago.
‘Would it be okay if I used your bathroom?’ Her hair had come loose as they’d pushed their way into the house, and she touched it now by way of explanation.
‘Of course. You aren’t hurt, are you?’
His eyes widened suddenly, his pupils merging with his irises, and she felt as if she was falling into two dark pools, her body weighted with rocks.
She shook her head. She wasn’t hurt. Not in the way he meant.
He showed her to the bathroom, and after closing the door she sat down on the side of the bath. It was all over before it had even begun. Just like every other part of her life, she had ruined it. Driving her father away, wrecking her career, and now sabotaging her relationship with the only man she had ever wanted.
Last time he had walked away. Now it was her turn. She didn’t want to do it, but she couldn’t blight the lives of the two people she loved most in the world. Nor could she bear this flame between her and Basa to be slowly extinguished by the mistakes of the past.
She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone.
When she came back into the living room, Basa was on his own phone.
‘Look, I have to go, but I’ll call you back later,’ he said to the caller, then paused, his dark gaze resting on Mimi’s face. ‘Yeah, I’ll tell her.’
He hung up and tossed his phone onto the sofa. ‘That was Alicia.’
‘I know.’ There had been a softness in his voice, a protectiveness she’d recognised and loved, that had told her he was speaking to someone he loved. And this was her chance to protect him.
‘Is she okay? Is your dad okay?’
His face tensed, and although she hadn’t moved she could almost feel the space between them widen.
‘They will be. They’re holed up at Alicia’s flat, but Philip’s there, and my security team is going to move them once it gets dark.’
She winced inwardly. He must be so worried about Alicia, and even more so about his father, and yet he was playing it down. The matter-of-fact way he was talking about his life imploding made everything a thousand times worse.
‘You’re a good man.’ Mimi tried to smile, but who could smile when their heart was breaking?
Basa frowned, and she knew that something of what she was feeling must show in her face.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to speak past the lump in her throat. ‘I can’t stay here—not now. Not with—’
He cut her off. ‘This isn’t how it’s going be for ever.’
‘Maybe not,’ she said quietly. ‘But we don’t have for ever, Basa. Alicia is getting married in less than three months. And that’s what’s important here, isn’t it? Making sure her wedding isn’t ruined by a lot of messy headlines.’
She waited, the lump in her throat swelling. Part of her—the wretched, hopelessly in love with him part—was hoping that he would pull her against him like he had on the jet, and then in the car, and tell her that he loved her, that she was what was important to him, now and for ever. But of course she knew he wouldn’t say that.
So before he had a chance to reply she said quickly, ‘If Paul could give me a lift I have somewhere I can stay.’
It was his opportunity to stop her, and there was a part of her heart that trembled with the hope that he would. But he didn’t say anything, and she felt something split apart inside her as he nodded slowly.
Five minutes later Basa led her through the house and out through the garden.
‘You won’t have any trouble leaving this way.’ He glanced at the modest, nondescript saloon idling by the kerb. ‘Especially not in this car. Just tell Paul where you want to go.’
His smile was taut, the muscles in his jaw tense like piano wire.
‘Thank you.’ It hurt her to smile—more so to look at his face.
‘Mimi.’
Her heart leapt against her ribs as he pulled her into his arms.
‘It’ll be fine. I promise.’
She inhaled his scent, wishing she could hold it inside of her for ever, so that she would always have a part of him, but as his grip loosened she let go of her breath.
In the car, she tried to stare straight ahead, but as Paul started the engine she couldn’t stop herself from turning back to look at Basa. For a few half-seconds his dark eyes rested on her face, and then the car was moving, and she sat there, her stomach clenched with hope, waiting for him to come after her, willing him to yank op
en the door and tell her that he loved her.
But as the car turned into the road and they joined the mid-morning traffic she realised that, far from wanting her to stay, he had been willing her to leave.
* * *
Three hours later she was curled up on the sofa in her friend Emma’s tiny flat, the curtains drawn, a mug of undrunk tea on the table in front of her. Normally she loved a cup of tea, but this one had grown cold as she’d stared blankly at the book in her lap.
She had showered and changed out of what she’d been wearing, hoping the hot water and clean clothes would help shift the lethargy that had overtaken her as Paul drove her to Emma’s address. But it hadn’t helped. Sitting here alone, with damp hair and an oversized sweater, made it all feel much more real and final.
Glancing over at her phone, she resisted the urge to pick it up and check for messages or missed calls. She had left a message for Alicia, apologising, and then called her mum, who hadn’t picked up, so she’d left a message for her too. From Basa there had been nothing.
Her throat tightened, and she felt the heat of tears. But why would there be?
He was probably under siege from reporters and lawyers, and even if he wasn’t, why would he want to talk to her? He might have said he didn’t blame her, but that would change over time. And then there was Alicia...
Her stomach clenched. There would be no wedding film now. In fact, she wasn’t going to go to the wedding at all. She felt her breathing slow, for she knew how upset Lissy would be. It might even be the end of their friendship.
The dread in her stomach was hot and stinging, and slippery like a jellyfish. Not to go would be cruel, but to go would be worse in the long run, for it would be wilfully negligent of the consequences. It had to be this way. Like amputating a limb with frostbite. You had to lose the leg to save the life, and Lissy and Philip were worth saving a hundred times over.
Basa too.
His whole life had been spent looking after other people—looking after his father, parenting his sister, taking over the family business. Not only to protect his family, but also to protect the livelihoods of all those people who worked for him. And he wasn’t even thirty. He’d already sacrificed so much. She wasn’t going to make him sacrifice anything else.
Someone was ringing the doorbell.
Her whole body tensed.
The bones in her legs had locked tight and for a moment she couldn’t move. It couldn’t be a reporter—they didn’t bother waiting for you to answer. They lifted open the letterbox and shouted their questions through the door.
Her heart slid sideways. Only three people knew she was here. Emma, Paul and Basa.
Sliding the chain of the latch, she opened the door with a rush of anticipation.
But it wasn’t Basa.
It was her mother.
‘I got your message. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I went away for a couple of days with a friend and the signal was terrible.’
Mimi swallowed. ‘You didn’t have to come back, Mum.’
Her mother frowned. ‘Of course I came back—you’re my daughter. I’m not going to leave you to fight off those wolves on your own.’
Stepping into the flat, she closed the door and pulled Mimi into a hug. For a moment Mimi stiffened, trying to pull away, but her mum wouldn’t let her and finally she gave in to what she had been wanting to do since leaving Basa’s house. She burst into tears.
‘It will be all right.’ Leaning forward, her mother smoothed Mimi’s hair away from her face. ‘It’s just a photo, not a court case.’
‘A photo of me and Basa. And people hold grudges, Mum. They hold on to things—to feelings—for years.’
‘I know,’ her mum said quietly. ‘I held on to my past for far too long. But you’ve just spent a week with Basa—alone on an island. Everybody should let go of the past, and if you two can then so can everyone else.’
Mimi blew her nose. She’d expected her mum to be crying, or at least panicking, but she was calm—relaxed, even.
‘I don’t think Basa will ever really let go of it. Not if he wants to protect his family.’
‘Did he say that?’
‘No, not in so many words,’ Mimi said slowly. ‘But he didn’t try to stop me leaving.’
‘Maybe letting you go was his way of trying to protect you?’
She stared at her mother helplessly. ‘I can’t think like that, Mum. I just want it to be over. I don’t want to feel like this any more. I don’t want to feel anything. That’s why I walked away.’
Her mother leaned over and wiped a tear from Mimi’s cheek. ‘But you can’t walk away from love, Mimi. And you do love him, don’t you?’
Hearing her mum say it out loud broke her open.
‘But I messed it up—like I always mess everything up.’ Tears were streaming down her face now, too many to wipe away.
Her mum frowned. ‘Such as what?’
‘Like you and Dad. You were so much in love, and then I came along and ruined it. And then I pushed you into marrying Charlie so you wouldn’t be on your own.’
More tears escaped and she brushed them away with her sleeve.
‘Is that what I made you think?’
Glancing up into her mother’s face, Mimi saw that she looked shocked and horrified.
‘Mimi, that’s not what happened. I know I used to talk a lot about how much me and your dad were in love, but that was only because I wanted to give you something positive about our relationship. I wanted you to know that you came out of real passion. It wasn’t your fault your dad left me. We just weren’t right together.’
She frowned.
‘And as for Charlie—you didn’t push me into anything. I was a grown woman and I liked Charlie. I didn’t love him, but I wanted you to have a dad, and nice things, so I ignored all his little lies. If anyone messed up, it was me.’
Mimi shook her head, her hands balling into fists. ‘But I’ve made a mess of my film too, and it was my fault that the photo was taken in Buenos Aires. Everything I touch, I ruin.’
‘That’s not true. You put yourself out there and sometimes things go wrong. But I am so proud of you. You are brave and talented and loyal, and any man—including Bautista Caine—would be lucky to have you.’
Her mother was crying now too.
‘And, frankly, I will tell him so myself.’
She reached for Mimi’s phone.
‘No, Mum.’ Mimi tried to grab it. ‘It’s too late.’
Shaking her head, her mum smiled weakly. ‘Love doesn’t come with a deadline, or hide away in the shadows.’ She handed Mimi the phone. ‘And neither should you, darling.’
CHAPTER TEN
PICKING UP THE top newspaper from the pile beside him, Basa scanned the front page before expertly flipping through the rest of the paper. His PA had been sending the papers over each morning since the story broke, ringing any relevant sections with a marker pen, but his dark gaze found nothing to interest him today.
The tabloids had a couple of stories each—nothing new, just the Buenos Aires photo padded out with some additional paragraphs about the trial.
He let out a breath and scooped the papers onto the floor. Overall, was not too bad. Probably tomorrow, the day after at the latest, the genie would be back in the lamp and by the time Alicia exchanged her vows with Philip the whole episode would be nothing but a footnote.
The worst was over. He had moved fast and effectively and, having been through it once before—twice if you included his mother’s accident—he had known what needed to be done to kill the story. He’d done it, and now his sister’s wedding would no longer have the spectre of scandal hanging over it.
Everything was under control. He should be happy. He was, of course. And yet his happiness felt staged, as if he was an actor playing himself. None of it felt real. And he wa
sn’t sure it ever would...without Mimi.
He stared down at his phone. Alicia had called and left several messages, saying it was nothing urgent, to call her back, but from Mimi there had been nothing.
Unsurprisingly.
His paralysed silence when she had announced she was leaving had not exactly given her any incentive to stay in touch, and now it was nearly a week since she had got into that car with Paul.
Watching her leave, he’d wanted to chase after her, to ask her to stay. But he hadn’t been able to ask or expect her to do that—not knowing what he did.
Two years ago she and her mother had been chased, snapped and vilified just for the crime of being related to Charlie and Raymond. It hadn’t mattered to anyone, himself included, that they were innocent, unknowing bystanders. They had been judged fair game and treated accordingly.
His shoulders tensed and he felt his heart contracting with rage and regret. Mimi and her mother had had nobody to protect them—no security team to hold back the photographers, no lawyers fighting to defend their reputation, their name. They had been helpless and scared. And after watching her face as the paparazzi had penned her against his car the other day, he knew that fear hadn’t dissipated over time.
And that was why he hadn’t stopped her from leaving.
He hadn’t been able to ask her to stay for him—not after everything else he had demanded she do. He hadn’t been able to make her go through all that again, so he had let her go.
But he missed her.
From the moment he woke up in the morning and all through his restless nights she was there. No matter what he was doing she was in his head. He could hear her voice, her laughter, and sometimes when he closed his eyes he could feel her hair sliding over his skin, the soft whisper of her breath against his mouth.
He stood up, loneliness lapping like waves against his heart, and made his way to the window, as if by moving he could shift the feeling of fullness in his chest. Running a hand over his face, he stared at his reflection. He hadn’t shaved for the last three days, and instead of his usual suit and tie he was wearing joggers and a T-shirt. It was slack of him, but the effort of dressing seemed to be beyond him right now.
Craving His Forbidden Innocent Page 15