Blame it on the Moonlight

by Emily Harvale

  ‘Ah. Many apologies,’ the man said, before moving towards the other few passengers who had got off the train behind her.

  She reached out and touched his arm. ‘Sorry. I am Luna Blake. I was shaking my head because … Never mind. I’m Luna. My uncle, Mason Riley, sent you to meet me?’

  The man raised his brows. ‘Luna Blakes? To Bell Cottages, yes?’

  ‘Luna Blake. To Bell Cottage,’ she confirmed.

  With a nod, the man grabbed one of her two cases from her. ‘Come.’ He waved her forward with his free hand and she fell into step beside him, the wheels of her luggage clattering over the tiled concourse as they made their way towards the large, Victorian doors.

  The man pushed one open with his back and held it in place to let Luna pass but an icy blast hit her in the face and she froze on the spot. It momentarily took her breath away.

  ‘Colds, no?’ The man’s grin revealed a broken front tooth.

  ‘Freezing.’ Luna hurried past and rushed towards the only minicab in sight, parked in front of a minivan.

  Her uncle had told her on the phone to be prepared for the bitterly cold weather but she had laughed.

  ‘I’ve experienced UK winters before, Mason. I can still remember how cold it is but as I survived Norway in December, I’m sure I’ll be fine.’

  ‘But we’ve had a particularly cold spell here since before Christmas. The snow we had in December and January has only just cleared and if anything, the weather’s grown colder. Bring lots of layers. And thermals if you have them. I’m sorry I can’t meet you at the station. But I’ll make sure there’s a minicab waiting to bring you here. The doctor says I should be able to walk again in a matter of days. Don’t forget what I told you. Warm clothes and lots of them. Safe trip, sweetheart.’

  ‘Thank you, Mason. I’ll wrap up warm, don’t worry.’

  And she had. But not warmly enough, it seemed. It hadn’t been this cold in Norway when she had visited a friend for Christmas, and to photograph the Northern Lights. Or perhaps it had. But in Norway a person was prepared for true, arctic conditions. In the UK, it was just supposed to be cold. This was like stepping into a freezer. It hadn’t seemed this bitter at Gatwick airport, or at Gatwick station, but then she had been rushing to catch the train after her flight from Spain was delayed, so she hadn’t had to wait around on the platform. In fact, she had made it by the skin of her teeth. She had not even had time to find a seat and sit before the train departed.

  That was how she had met Severine. By falling on to the lap of an elderly gentleman occupying an aisle seat. After profuse apologies, and running over his feet with the wheels of her cases, she had taken a seat beside him. He had looked her up and down over half-moon spectacles, tutted, got up, and with more tutting and shaking of his head, had moved several seats away.

  ‘That’s one way to get two seats to yourself,’ Severine had said. ‘I usually fake coughing and sneezing. That always works. Welcome to railway hell.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m pleased to be here. Not here on the train. I’m pleased to be in England. I’m relocating from Spain.’

  Luna had met Severine’s look and both of them had laughed although Luna wasn’t sure why. Neither of them had said anything remotely funny.

  Chapter Four

  Logan cursed his luck as he saw Severine watching him stack the crates of oysters. Of all the trains the damn woman could have arrived on, why had she had to arrive on the one that got here the same time as he had. And why, after all these years, did he still manage to sound like a gibbering idiot when he spoke to her? Why couldn’t he have said something cool? Or something clever. Or even something complimentary.

  He thumped one crate on top of another and tried to forget she was there. Since returning to stay with his gran and work at Snowflake Inn, he had been dreading the day of Severine’s homecoming. She was supposed to have been home for Christmas – but she called to say she was getting married in Las Vegas and would come home at New Year instead. Typical Severine. Then Raven had the accident. Everyone expected Severine to come back after that. But no. Although she did postpone her wedding.

  After that, she called to say the weather was too bad and she couldn’t take any chances – now that she was pregnant. Was that the reason? Or did it have more to do with the fact that Roggero Tazzeone was back and Severine’s secret was finally out? There was a very strong possibility that a few people would have pitchforks waiting to greet her after that news made the rounds. She was probably sensible to delay her return for another month to let the rancour settle. But then Severine always did what was best for her, didn’t she? Regardless of what other people wanted, or needed, or felt.

  Logan knew that. He knew how selfish and self-centred she could be. How moody, petulant and sulky she was.

  But she was even more stunningly gorgeous now than she had been the last time he had seen her, more than fifteen years ago.

  Damn the woman. Just when he had decided that it was about time he grew up and faced the facts. He had to get over Severine Starr once and for all. For Christ’s sake, the woman was engaged, she was pregnant, and she was moving to New York. What more had to happen before he accepted that she would never, ever, be his?

  And yet she had been watching him just now, hadn’t she? He shot a look back towards the concourse, but Severine was no longer there. He told himself it didn’t matter – but it did.

  ‘Logan? Are you listening to me, lad?’

  Chubby fingers prodded Logan’s arm.

  ‘Sorry, Len.’ Logan hadn’t heard one word. ‘What were you saying. I’ve just had a bit of a surprise and it’s thrown me off course somewhat.’ He straightened up and stretched his muscles.

  Len chuckled good-naturedly. ‘Something to do with a woman, I’ll bet. I was saying, there are plenty more where these came from, if you’re interested. You know where I am, so just let me know.’

  Logan smiled, stuck his hand in his pocket, and handed over the agreed amount.

  ‘Thanks Len. I appreciate it. I’ll definitely be back for more.’

  ‘Right you are. I’ll catch you later then. You carry on with your day-dreaming.’ He gave Logan a playful nudge and winked at him before ambling away.

  Thinking about Severine was more of a nightmare than a day-dream. The problem was, Logan still had feelings for her. He always had. And he was at very real risk of being as madly in love with her now as he had been all those years ago. That last summer when he’d plucked up the courage to tell her how he felt – but hadn’t got the chance. The summer his dad had died. The summer that changed everything.

  Chapter Five

  Severine stuffed the keys Logan had given her into her coat pocket, retrieved her holdall and tossed it over her shoulder. It seemed heavier. She must be even more exhausted than she had thought. Logan could have offered to help her with her luggage. That would have been the gentlemanly thing to do. But he seemed to be as peeved with her as her family was. Although when he had first seen her, she was sure there had been a spark of excitement in his eyes. Perhaps she had imagined it. Not that it mattered either way. She had no interest in Logan Dorset. No interest at all. Simply memories from long ago. She had Harvey. She was moving to New York. Nothing and no one in either Michaelmas Bay or Snowflake Cove was going to change that. She grabbed the pull-along handles of her cases and marched towards the exit.

  Severine would have died from frostbite waiting around for a minicab in this weather and the station wasn’t much warmer. She braced herself for the icy wind to slash her face as she pushed open one of the station doors, but the cold still made her gasp. Thank heavens for Logan and his oysters. And he was right; there was only one minivan outside. The only other vehicle in sight was a departing minicab.

  Severine pressed the remote, heard the click of the locks, and tugged open the back doors of the minivan, hauling her luggage inside. She spotted a blanket and placed it over her cases, making sure to tuck it in at the sides before dashing to the passenger do
or. Sighing loudly, she grabbed the bags of shopping and two at a time, transferred them to the back of the van. She didn’t look at the contents of the bags as she pushed and shoved them into place and she didn’t waste much time doing so. The sooner they were in, the sooner she could clamber into the passenger seat, turn the ignition on and set the heater to max.

  Once settled, she closed her eyes and waited, her mind drifting back yet again to the last summer she had seen Logan, when he was nineteen and she had just turned twenty-one. He always came to stay with his gran, Jane Dorset in Snowflake Cove for the summer and winter holidays and Severine wasn’t sure when she had first started counting the days until his return. She didn’t have a care in the world that summer – other than making sure she kept her sister Evie away from Logan as much as possible. She didn’t want the competition. She may have been better-looking than Evie but for some unknown reason, most people seemed to prefer her younger sister to her, and Severine didn’t like that at all. Logan, it seemed, was no exception. He was constantly hanging around Evie – although Severine often caught him looking directly at her, but he always looked away and turned his attention back to Evie. He was such a strange teenager. Quiet, reserved, polite and distant with her, but with Evie he would laugh and joke and rough and tumble. Severine tried her best to keep them apart. She also did her best to flirt with him, which seemed to strike terror in his veins. Not the reaction Severine wanted from someone she fancied. She hadn’t made a conscious decision to fall for him, and it surprised her when she realised she had. What she wanted, more than anything that summer, was for him to take her in his arms and kiss her.

  Until that night on the beach when she had bumped into Roggero Tazzeone, who was not just the father of Evie’s best friend, but also a long-time friend of the Starr family. She and Roggero had walked and talked, the sand beneath their feet glistening under a sky filled with diamonds and a moon the size of the sun. The flat, calm sea had turned to liquid silver and made hardly a sound as it lapped the shore. In that near silence, Severine had turned to Roggero and asked him what the hell she had to do to get a man interested in her.

  ‘A man would have to be blind to not be interested in you,’ he’d said, and he’d looked at her in a way that made her heart race and her skin tingle.

  ‘Would he?’ She couldn’t help herself. She smiled coyly.

  ‘Yes, Severine. Yes, he would.’

  ‘But … you’re not blind, are you, Roggero?’

  ‘No. La mia bella ragazza. I’m far from blind.’

  It was odd, but the only time Roggero sounded even slightly Italian, was when he said something in that language. Otherwise, he sounded almost as English as she did. But then he had been born and bred in Michaelmas Bay, like his father before him. The nearest the Tazzeones had got to Italy was the pizzeria the family once owned on the High Street in Michaelmas Bay, their forebears having moved to England centuries before. It was called Bella Italia and had been sold off when Roggero had suddenly announced that making pizza was no longer for him.

  ‘Did … did you just call me a beautiful rag?’ Severine had asked.

  Roggero laughed. ‘Do not look so cross, little one. Ragazza means girl.’ He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. ‘I called you, my beautiful girl.’

  ‘Oh. Oh! I’m not a girl. I’m a woman. And I’m not little, either.’ She puffed out her chest as if to prove her point. ‘But you think I’m beautiful? You really think that?’

  ‘I do, Severine. I think you’re very beautiful.’

  She looked deep into his eyes and what she saw heightened her excitement, made her more reckless, more carefree, sexier than she had ever felt, and somehow, powerful.

  ‘I’m not blind either, Roggero. I think you’re a very passionate man. An experienced man. A handsome, sexy man. And perhaps, a man who is bored with what he has. A man who knows what he wants but possibly doesn’t know that he can have it.’

  He had stared at her, as if he were fighting some internal battle.

  She stared back, nervous but excited. She raised her hand and flicked back her long, dark-ginger hair, tilted her head a fraction and bit her lower lip. She was playing a dangerous game and she knew it, but at that precise moment, she simply didn’t care. Life in Snowflake Cove was stifling. Boring. She craved excitement. Longed for adventure. Yearned to be loved.

  ‘What are you saying, Severine? Are you saying you want something to happen between us?’

  Lines formed around his intense, dark eyes and he scanned her face as if trying to read her mind. Trying to be certain of her intentions. He took her hand and pulled her close.

  She should have pushed him away. Told him that this couldn’t happen. Run from him and never looked back. Instead she merely nodded.

  ‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’

  ‘Oh yes, Roggero. I’m sure it’s what I want.’

  He led her to the rocky cliff walls of one of the secluded inlets of Snowflake Cove and pressed his hard body against hers; whispered things in her ear the like of which she had never heard. He would stop if she asked him to, but she couldn’t find the words. Her breath came in gasps, her mind raced, her mouth and her body responded to his, even though, in her head, an annoying little voice was telling her she mustn’t. Telling her this was wrong. But she wanted him. Wanted this. Wanted to be wanted. Wanted to be loved.

  That was a night she would never forget because that was the night she tossed aside her childish crush on Logan Dorset, and fell in love with someone else’s man.

  There were many nights on the beach after that – until the one when she had told him she was pregnant. That was the last night she had lain eyes on Roggero Tazzeone, and now he was back. Back in Snowflake Cove, staying at Snowflake Inn and getting to know their daughter. A daughter he hadn’t given a damn about for the entire fifteen years of her life so far.

  The metal-against-metal-creak of the back doors of the van made Severine jump. She inhaled deeply, dismissed all thoughts of the past, and twisted in her seat to face Logan.

  ‘I found a blanket.’

  ‘So I see.’ He didn’t look at her. ‘Would you mind turning the heater down? It’s like a furnace in here and limp lettuce is not a good look, not to mention what heat will do to these oysters.’

  ‘Sorry. I was just so cold. I’m fine now though.’ She leant forward and adjusted the heater.

  ‘I’m so pleased.’

  He didn’t sound pleased; he sounded cross, and he took more than ten minutes to shift the various crates, boxes and bags to fit everything in. When he finally climbed into the driver’s seat, his face was flushed and there was a definite scowl on his lips.

  ‘Thanks for the help.’

  ‘Don’t take that tone with me, Logan. If you’d wanted my help you should’ve asked for it. I’m not a mind-reader. And that was the longest five minutes I’ve ever known. I could’ve ordered a minicab and been sitting in front of the fire by now.’

  He shot her a look, opened his mouth but quickly shut it again and, shaking his head, clicked his seatbelt in place and sped towards Snowflake Cove and her parents’ inn.

  Neither spoke another word, which was probably just as well, given that Severine was feeling rather emotional.

  Chapter Six

  Luna got out of the minicab and smiled. Her uncle, Mason Riley was waiting just inside the open doorway of Bell Cottage, leaning on a pair of crutches. He’d told her on the phone a week ago that he’d slipped on the ice and hurt his ankle. It wasn’t serious, he’d said, and he didn’t look in pain but at his age, injuries often took longer to mend. In a strange way, his fall had reinforced Luna’s belief that she had made the right decision and that she could help her uncle just as much as he had helped her in offering her a new start by moving in with him.

  ‘Hello, Mason. You were right about the cold.’ She shivered dramatically and grinned as the driver took her cases from the boot. ‘I should’ve taken more notice. Please don’t stand
there freezing. Go inside.’

  ‘I’m fine, sweetheart.’ He beamed at her, gave a little bow and waved one agile hand as if his fingers still danced on the keys of a concert piano. ‘Your uncle is always right.’ He met her eyes and winked. ‘You’re looking well. And I’m sure you’re even prettier than the last time I saw you. But it’s been so long. Come in, come in and let’s get you settled.’

  The driver helped Luna with her bags and Mason paid him, giving him such a generous tip that the man insisted on taking the cases inside. He placed them to the left of the stairs.

  ‘I leaves here? Is okay? Many thank yous. Enjoy your stays.’

  Luna nodded. ‘That’s perfect, thank you.’

  Mason closed the door the moment the driver stepped outside, leaning his back against the wood as if he thought the howling, bitter wind might blow the door open again.

  ‘I think the weather’s getting worse. Would you like some tea? Or something stronger? Are you hungry? I’d like to give you a hug, but if I let go of these I may well fall over.’ He nodded at his crutches.

  Luna hugged him, kissing his cheek. ‘I’m so happy to be here. Thank you so much for suggesting this.’

  ‘I’m glad you decided to take me up on the offer. It’ll be good for both of us, I’m sure.’

  Luna looked him in the eye. ‘It’ll definitely be good for me and I’ll do my best to make sure it’s good for you. It’ll be such bliss to be able to devote more time to my photography and paintings and sheer heaven not to have to work as a waitress ever again. I hope. I need to find out if I really can make a living from my pictures. Life is too short to put your dreams on hold. That’s what Mum always said, didn’t she?’

  Mason nodded, his eyes brimming with affection and pride. ‘She would be so proud of you, sweetheart. I’m proud of you. Things haven’t been easy, I know, but you’re here now and the future will be better. I’m certain of that.’