The Return of Her Past

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The Return of Her Past Page 11

by Lindsay Armstrong


  ‘Yes. There.’ He presented her with a little bundle of clips and ran his fingers through her loosened hair.

  ‘Is there anything else you don’t approve of?’ she queried.

  ‘About you?’

  ‘Yes, me. I just thought I ought to be prepared in case you decide to wreak further havoc with my appearance.’

  ‘No,’ he said simply as he looked her up and down. ‘Well, much as I am looking forward to removing your lovely blue dress and allowing myself the pleasure of parting your thighs, running my fingers over your breasts and round your hips, I’ll wait.’

  Mia all but choked. ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she said with difficulty.

  He raised an eyebrow again at her. ‘You don’t approve?’

  ‘Oh—’ she tossed her head ‘—I approve. That’s the problem. But if you can wait, so can I.’

  And she turned on her heel and walked away from him.

  He caught her and turned her in his arms. ‘On second thoughts,’ he growled, ‘I don’t think I can. We’ve still got time.’

  She took a ragged breath.

  ‘We’ve—’ he looked at his watch ‘—got nearly an hour. Half an hour until the table is booked, half an hour or a bit less to be fashionably late.’

  ‘Carlos,’ she breathed but she couldn’t go on—for several reasons. She had no idea what she’d been going to say and it was impossible to think straight as he ran his hands from the rounded curves of her shoulders down her arms.

  He still wore the jeans and shirt he’d put on after their swim, clothes he’d been wearing all day, and she was assaulted by the pure man smell she’d always loved about Carlos, musk and cotton and something that was so masculine she just loved it.

  Then he found the zip of her dress and the material parted down her back and the dress pooled on the floor at her feet.

  He made a husky sound of approval in his throat as she stood before him wearing only her blue silk and lace panties and her beautiful high blue sandals. And his grey gaze lingered on her slim waist, on her thighs and on the smooth hollows at the base of her throat where a telltale nerve was beating a tattoo.

  Then he moved forward and cupped her breasts and bent his head to tease her nipples with his tongue and teeth.

  Mia went rigid as wave after wave of sensation and desire crashed through her body, and he picked her up and laid her on the bed.

  This time there was no time for any more formalities, this time they were both ignited to a fever pitch and desperate for each other. This time it took Carlos as long to come down from the heights as it did Mia.

  ‘That,’ he said eventually and still breathing heavily, ‘is a record. In as much as we could still shower, get dressed again and be on time for our reservation.’

  Mia chuckled. ‘We could also sit down and die at the table. I think I’d rather be late.’

  He rearranged the pillows, then pulled her back into his arms. ‘OK?’

  She nodded.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. Then he looked into her eyes wryly. ‘Realistically, I suspect we’re not going to make dinner.’ He looked a question at her.

  ‘You suspect right,’ she told him. ‘I don’t feel like getting all done up again.’ She snuggled up to him. ‘I just feel like staying here.’

  He smoothed some strands of hair from her cheek. ‘Why not?’

  So that was what they did—stayed in bed, with Carlos watching television with the sound turned down and Mia dozing next to him.

  Then, at about eleven o’clock, they decided they were starving so they got up and dressed in jeans and sweaters and ran down the motel stairs to the ground floor, hand in hand, and out into the moonlight.

  They found a small packed restaurant vibrating with blues music and serving late dinners.

  Mia had pasta, Carlos had ocean-fresh prawns and they drank Chianti. Every now and then they got up and joined the crowd on the minuscule dance floor until last orders were called, then they walked to the beach.

  ‘Still OK?’ He swung her hand. ‘Still on the smiley trail?’

  She stopped walking and looked up at him. ‘Yes.’

  He responded to her rather intent look with a quizzical one of his own. ‘You were going to say?’ he hazarded.

  Mia licked her lips. I was going to say yes, I will marry you, Carlos. I couldn’t not marry you. It would be like sentencing myself to purgatory. I almost got it out but I can’t quite bring myself to say it. Why can’t I?

  She said, ‘What will we do tomorrow?’ and inwardly called herself a coward.

  He studied her expressionlessly for a long moment, then he shrugged and they started walking again. ‘If you think Gail can spare you for another day we could drive up to the Goldie and have a look around.’

  ‘You mean the Gold Coast?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘All right. As for Gail—’ she dimpled ‘—she is in seventh heaven—and she’s doing marvellously well. She’s got her mother helping and Bill’s wife, Lucy. I’m proud of her.’

  ‘You probably trained her well,’ he commented. ‘Ready for bed? Again?’ he asked whimsically.

  ‘Considering it’s three o’clock in the morning, yes!’

  * * *

  But they didn’t go anywhere the next day. Instead they swam and lazed around and enjoyed each other’s company.

  * * *

  That evening they were seated at a table for two in the luxurious restaurant next door to their motel. Mia was wearing her new blue dress.

  ‘Third time lucky,’ she’d said to Carlos earlier, when she was dressed and ready to go.

  He smiled down at her. ‘You look marvellous. So does your hair.’

  She’d left her hair loose and riotous. ‘You know,’ she said to him, ‘you could make my life much simpler.’ She paused and looked suddenly rueful.

  ‘I have been trying to make that point,’ he replied as he shrugged into the jacket of his navy suit, worn with a crisp white shirt and a navy tie. His dark hair was thick but orderly and secretly he took her breath away.

  ‘I meant my hair. I wouldn’t have to worry so much about it.’

  He closed in on her and tilted her chin with his fingers. ‘That should be the least of your worries,’ he said softly, but scanned her significantly from head to toe.

  ‘Now you’ve really got me seriously concerned,’ she said with an anxious expression. ‘Did I speak too soon?’

  ‘About getting to dinner in your new blue dress?’ He let his words hang in the air, then took her hand with a wicked little smile in his eyes. ‘Get me out of here, Miss Gardiner, just to be on the safe side.’

  They dined on lobster and they drank champagne.

  Mia was just making up her mind whether to have dessert when she looked up from the menu to see Carlos staring past her, looking pale and with his expression as hard as a rock.

  She didn’t have to turn to see what had engaged his attention so dramatically. Nina French swept up to their table and there was no mistaking her or, after a startled moment, the man she was with—Talbot Spencer.

  Nina was eminently photogenic but in the flesh she was breathtakingly beautiful, with the finest skin, velvety blue eyes and long smooth-flowing corn-gold hair. She was wearing a floral sheath dress that clung to her figure and was held up by shoestring straps so that it just covered her breasts. High nude platform shoes complemented her legs. Above all she had a tiny smile curving her lips, not of triumph or mockery, but a genuine smile.

  Talbot wore a suit and Mia had to admit that, fair and freckled, he was also dangerously attractive, although in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  It was Nina who broke the startled silence. ‘Hi there, Carlos. This is a surprise. I guess you know Talbot, but please introduce me to your friend.’

  Carlos stood up and probably only Mia noticed that his knuckles were white as he put his napkin on the table. ‘Nina, Talbot,’ he drawled. ‘You’re right, this is a surprise. Didn’t know you two
knew each other. Uh...this is Mia Gardiner. Mia,’ he went on, ‘and I are contemplating getting married, so wish us luck.’

  The silence that crashed down around them was deafening.

  Nina’s expression spoke volumes although she said not a word. She looked horrified; her face actually crumpled and her beautiful blue eyes filled with tears.

  It was Talbot who broke the silence. ‘That’s an interesting way of putting it. Do let us know the outcome of your contemplations. We’re off back to Sydney tomorrow—maybe we could get together down there? Nice to meet you, Mia! Come, Nina.’

  Nina swallowed, then turned obediently and followed him out of the restaurant.

  Carlos sat down but immediately stood up. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said tersely.

  ‘Th-the bill,’ Mia stammered.

  ‘Don’t worry about it, they know me. Ready?’

  * * *

  It wasn’t to the beach he took her. They drove up to the lighthouse instead. In silence.

  It was cool and dark, the moon hidden by a thick blanket of clouds.

  ‘It’s going to rain tomorrow, the end of our idyll, Mia. In more ways than one, I suspect.’ He turned to her and slid his arm along the back of her seat. ‘Go ahead, say it. I can guess anyway—how could you, Carlos?’

  Mia cleared her throat. ‘Yes,’ she agreed huskily, ‘I was, and I’m still going to say it. How could you?’

  He raised a sardonic eyebrow at her. ‘It isn’t true? I’ve certainly been contemplating marrying you, Mia. I could have sworn you might even have been having second thoughts about it.’

  Mia bit her lip and tried desperately to gather some remnants of sane rational composure around her. ‘Carlos,’ she said as she battled more tears, ‘do you think linking up with Talbot Spencer was a calculated move on Nina’s part to get back at you for breaking up with her?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ he said dryly.

  ‘Have you spoken to her since you broke up?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Has she tried to speak to you?’

  ‘Mia, she was the one who broke it off,’ he said tersely. Then he shrugged. ‘She’s left messages,’ he said sombrely, and added, ‘I’ve been overseas most of the time.’ He took a breath and said through his teeth. ‘Anyone but Talbot!’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Mia closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. ‘I think whoever it was, you’d hate the idea of it because—’ she gestured helplessly ‘—there’s still something between you two. From the way she looked, there certainly is for her. But whatever, none of this is about me, don’t you see? I’ve been like a sideshow to the main attraction through all this and it’s not something I care to be any more.’

  Despite her tear streaks he could see the determination in her eyes and the set of her mouth, and he cursed inwardly.

  ‘Mia...’ he paused, and his tone was harsh as he continued ‘...there’s something you don’t understand. I will probably always feel guilty about Nina unless I can see her genuinely happy with another man.’

  ‘Guilty?’ Mia whispered. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because she quite inadvertently became a hostage in my war with my father.’

  ‘You’re right. I...I don’t understand,’ Mia stammered.

  Carlos rubbed his face. ‘He didn’t approve of her.’

  Mia did a double take. ‘He must have been the only one!’

  He grimaced. ‘Possibly. But because I thought he was running true to form, finding fault with my choices simply on principle, I wanted to prove him wrong.

  ‘But he was right. Well—’ he shrugged ‘—I don’t know if she’ll ever make a good wife and mother, but underneath the initial attraction, and you’d have to be a block of wood not to be attracted to her,’ he said with obvious bitterness, ‘we were never really compatible, Nina and I, only I refused to admit it because I couldn’t bear to think my father was right and I was wrong.’

  Mia stared at him incredulously.

  ‘And in the process,’ he continued bleakly, ‘I guess I gave Nina a false sense of security—if not that, I obviously led her to believe that whatever she did, I’d always be there for her. In a way she was entitled to think I’d marry her. And for that I will always feel guilty. And now she’s fallen into Talbot’s clutches.’

  He raked a hand through his hair, then, as she shivered, he took his jacket off and put it round her shoulders.

  Mia hugged herself beneath his jacket and came to a decision. ‘I...I can’t help thinking—I’m sorry but I still believe you haven’t got over her and maybe you never will.’

  ‘Mia—’

  ‘No,’ she interrupted. ‘Please, you must listen to me. I can’t be a party to breaking Nina French’s heart, or taking you to a place you don’t really want to go, not in your heart.’

  There was a long silence as they looked painfully into each other’s eyes. Then he said, ‘It’s been good, though?’

  Mia thought back over the last few days and nodded. ‘Yes, yes, it’s been lovely.’ She wiped her eyes on her wrists.

  ‘Don’t cry.’ He slipped his jacket off her and pulled her into his arms. ‘Don’t cry, please.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘I feel bad enough as it is.’

  ‘You don’t need to.’

  ‘I can’t leave you like this.’

  ‘Carlos, you can—for once in my life I didn’t bring a tissue or a hanky!’ she exclaimed frustratedly.

  ‘Here.’ He pulled a clean navy hanky out of his trouser pocket.

  She mopped up and blew her nose. ‘What was I saying? Yes, you can.’ Mia paused and dredged the very depths of her soul for the right words, the right key to handle this, to bring it to a closure that would release not only her, but Carlos without him realising how much she loved him.

  ‘Have you ever seen the Three Sisters?’

  Carlos blinked. ‘At Echo Point?’

  ‘Mmm-hmm...’ She nodded.

  ‘Well, yes.’ But he looked mystified.

  ‘I used to feel a bit like them.’ Mia dabbed at her eyes again. ‘Sort of frozen and petrified. As if I could never break the bonds of what happened at West Windward.’

  She hesitated, still searching for the right words. She stared out to sea, but all she could see was a dark blue world.

  ‘Now, thanks to you, I feel different,’ she said slowly. ‘I feel I can go ahead. It’s funny because she’d absolutely hate the thought of it, but what you’ve done for me is remove the stamp your mother put on me that kept me trapped like that.’

  He was silent. But the lines and angles of his face spoke volumes too; he looked harsh and forbidding but at the same time tortured.

  ‘But—’ Mia took a deep breath ‘—this is a real parting of the ways for us. You do see, don’t you?’ she pleaded.

  ‘You don’t believe you’re sending me back to Nina, do you?’ he asked roughly.

  Mia put a finger to his lips. ‘That’s not for me to do,’ she said huskily. ‘Only you can work that out. But I think you have to work it out. I just want you to know you don’t have to worry about me.’

  He took her hand and kissed her palm and, as she had done only the day before, closed her fingers over her palm.

  ‘I can only do this one way, Mia.’

  She looked a question at him with silent tears slipping down her cheeks.

  ‘Now, tonight. I’ll take you back to the motel, then drive on to Sydney. I can organise transport back for you whenever you want it.’

  She licked the tears off her lips. ‘That’s fine. Thanks.’

  ‘Mia—’

  ‘No, you mustn’t worry about me.’

  ‘You’re crying again,’ he said harshly.

  ‘Most women probably have a man they remember with a tear and a smile. The one that got away,’ she said whimsically. ‘But, believe me, it’s the way I want it.’

  He stared into her eyes and found them unwavering. He closed his eyes briefly.

  She leant over and brushed his lips with hers
. ‘Still—’ she managed a brief but radiant smile ‘—we don’t need to prolong things.’

  * * *

  They didn’t.

  Carlos drove them back to the motel, consulted over the bill, and it only took him ten minutes to pack. He changed into jeans and a tweed jacket.

  Then it was all done and Mia stood straight and tearless in her lovely blue dress before him. ‘Bye, now,’ she said barely audibly. ‘Please just go, but—vaya con dios.’

  His face softened at the Spanish salutation and he hesitated, closed his eyes briefly and said, ‘You too, Mia. You too.’ Then he was gone.

  Mia stayed where she was for a few minutes, too scared to move in case she fractured and broke like glass. But of course it didn’t happen.

  You just go on, she thought as she lay down on the bed and pulled a pillow into her arms. You just go on and hope the pain goes away. You just know you couldn’t go through the hoping and the dreaming—and the slamming back to earth again.

  * * *

  The Pacific Highway between Byron Bay and Sydney was at times narrow and tortuous, almost always busy. Not an easy drive at the best of times. Late at night in wet conditions behind the monotonous click of the windscreen wipers with spray coming up off the road from oncoming traffic, it required skill and concentration.

  It didn’t stop Carlos from thinking that he’d displayed little skill in his dealings with Mia. After the encounter with Nina and Talbot, who could blame her for withdrawing from the lists?

  After revealing that Nina had known what she was doing in linking up with his enemy and after their tit-for-tat exchange and the way Nina had looked was enough to make anyone believe there was unfinished business between them.

  Was there? he wondered suddenly. Other than the explanation he undoubtedly owed Nina? Could he ever go back to that emotional roller coaster he’d shared with Nina French?

  It struck him suddenly that he might have if he hadn’t run into Mia again. He might have allowed the familiarity of their routine to draw him back to her; the guilt he felt towards her might have made him do it.

  The irony was that now he knew he couldn’t go back to her, the reason for it—Mia, who smiled in her sleep—was apparently prepared to sleep with him but not to marry him.

 

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