by Ella Hayes
Lotte’s eyes narrowed. ‘Okay.’ She lowered her camera and held out her hand. ‘Hello Mr Molenaar. I’m Lotte—Mia’s friend.’
Mia caught the teasing glimmer in his eyes as he shook Lotte’s hand. ‘Theo Molenaar. Mia’s friend also.’
She was trying not to laugh at the pair of them when a sudden flurry of movement at the far end of the room made Lotte turn sharply and rise up onto her toes like a meerkat.
‘She’s here!’
In the next instant her friend was plunging into the crowd, holding the camera high so that soon all she could see was Lotte’s camera weaving through a sea of heads like a shark’s fin.
When she turned back to Theo, he had a bemused look on his face. She gave a little shrug. ‘Lotte’s very excited because Madelon Mulder’s making a surprise appearance tonight.’ He seemed unmoved. Ash would have been jumping up and down, fighting his way to the front—he had a massive crush on Madelon Mulder. Maybe Theo wasn’t into serious cinema. Hal had been into action movies and wouldn’t have recognised Madelon Mulder if he’d fallen over her. Maybe Theo was the same. She smiled. ‘Do you know who that is?’
He seemed to hesitate and then he smiled, eyes twinkling. ‘Yes, I do... Madelon’s my sister.’
* * *
‘Your sister?’
Mia was staring at him with wide, incredulous eyes. She had one of those animated faces that you found yourself mimicking subconsciously. He forced himself to blink. ‘Yes.’
Her eyebrows had disappeared into her fringe and her mouth was slightly open, her lower lip full, and rosy and extremely tempting.
He leaned closer. ‘You need to breathe, Mia.’
She shook her head a little, took a long sip from her glass then looked up at him. ‘Wow! You must be so proud of her.’
He nodded. ‘I am. Very proud.’ An image drifted into his head: seven-year-old Madelon putting on her little plays, using her dolls as actors—trying to entertain the family in whichever seedy temporary accommodation their mother had managed to find. ‘She’s come a long way...’
There was a burst of camera flash at the far end of the room.
Mia tilted her head. ‘You probably want to go over, right?’
He looked into her face, lost himself in the warm glow of her eyes. Couldn’t she see that he was exactly where he wanted to be?
‘Madelon and I had dinner together earlier.’
‘Of course you did.’ She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, rolling her eyes. ‘I’m such an idiot!’
He laughed. ‘Not at all. To you, she’s a movie star. To me, she’s just my little sister.’ He lifted a fresh glass of champagne from a passing tray and handed it to her, taking a mineral water for himself. ‘We get together whenever we can. Sometimes we spend a few days at the beach house.’
‘On Texel!’ She smiled. ‘I remember.’
He nodded. ‘Madelon’s catching a flight after this so we said our goodbyes earlier.’ A thought suddenly struck him. ‘But do you need to go over? If you’re writing something, maybe you need...’
‘No...it’s fine.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘They didn’t set anything up because there’s no time for an interview tonight. It’s great that we’re getting pictures, though. It’ll be good publicity.’
‘For sure.’ He managed a smile, but he could feel the muscles in his neck tightening. Madelon knew that her recent success had increased her currency; it was why she’d insisted on shoehorning a photo-op into her schedule.
‘Theo! Saving Grace will get a massive boost if my picture makes the press and goes viral on social media!’
As always, her intentions were good but, although he was proud and delighted about her critical success, he worried about the exposure that came with it. It was why he’d insisted that they shouldn’t be seen together tonight. It was only a matter of time before someone put two and two together and found out that Madelon was related to the CEO of MolTec. After that, who knew what they’d find? For Bram’s sake, he had to keep the wolves at bay for as long as possible.
‘Are you okay?’ Mia was looking at him, a little frown on her face.
‘Sure. It’s been a long day, that’s all.’ He smiled. ‘I was in London this morning, meeting with Ash. Did he tell you?’
She shook her head. ‘We speak most days, but today we seem to have missed...’
Her eyes held him softly, stirring his senses around, making him feel...what? When Ash had told him that she lived in Amsterdam, he’d felt bruised. He’d decided that she hadn’t mentioned it because she wasn’t interested in seeing him again. On the plane home he’d convinced himself that it was for the best, that relationships only brought heartache anyway. Hadn’t his father had almost destroyed his mother? Hadn’t Eline almost destroyed him?
By the time the plane had landed at Schiphol, he’d sorted out his feelings, stowed them neatly away, but then she’d walked right back into his life—backwards. And now, there was something behind her gaze, something in her clear brown irises which was melting all the thin ice around his feet. He wanted to spend time with her. God help him, he wanted to know her better.
He sipped his water. ‘Do you have to stay until the end?’
She shook her head. ‘The work I do for the refuge is voluntary and, since Madelon’s photograph is worth at least a thousand words, I think I’ll get off lightly this time.’
He put his glass down. He’d know soon enough if he was wide of the mark. ‘Do you want to get out of here?’
She looked surprised. ‘Didn’t you come with someone?’ She was blushing. ‘What I mean is...are you free...to leave?’
He liked that she’d checked first. He smiled softly. ‘If I’d come with someone, I wouldn’t be asking you to leave with me.’
She blushed again, screwing up her face into an apologetic little smile. ‘Of course. I’m sorry... I didn’t mean...’
‘I’m not offended, Mia.’
She blew out a sigh and laughed. ‘Okay, then...let’s go.’
CHAPTER THREE
OUTSIDE, THE NIGHT sky glowed orange over the city rooftops. Usually he’d have noticed how may stars were being hidden by all that light, but instead he was noticing the way Mia’s dress lifted in the cool breeze as she walked. He was noticing the little bursts of her perfume escaping into the air as she turned her head. He was so busy noticing things about her that it took him a few moments to realise that she was walking towards the bicycle stands.
‘You cycled?’
She smiled. ‘I cycle everywhere in Amsterdam.’
She stopped next to a bright-orange bicycle, removed the padlock deftly and dropped it into the basket.
‘But you never cycle in London...’
Her lips quirked. ‘You remember.’
He remembered everything about their car ride to Greenwich. What they’d said, the way she’d smiled, the way her hair had been knotted up, silky brown strands framing her face. He lifted the bicycle out of the stand for her, instinctively pressing his weight against the handlebars, testing the brakes, running his eye over the tyres, the chain and the gears.
‘Will it pass?’ Her tone was gently teasing.
He looked up and gave a little shrug. ‘Old habits... I used to look after Madelon’s bicycle when we were little. Making sure it was safe.’
‘Ash used to do mine.’ She grimaced. ‘He hated it because I was always getting punctures.’
Theo glanced at Mia’s tyres again; thankfully fine.
She was buttoning her jacket. ‘So, did you cycle too?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I walked.’
‘From...?’
‘Herengracht—the Jordaan end.’
‘Nice!’
‘It is.’ He pictured the old canal house he was renovating, the peeling walls, the empty rooms. It would be better than nice when i
t was finished but making every decision on your own was difficult, especially when your architect had rather unconventional ideas. ‘Where do you stay?’
‘Prinsengracht, near Leidsegracht.’
‘That’s not so far!’
He smiled to himself. For three whole weeks he’d thought she’d been in England and all that time, she’d been just a fifteen-minute walk away from his house! From the look on her face, he guessed that she was thinking the same thing.
He shifted on his feet. ‘So...would you like to go for a drink; get something to eat?’
‘You’ve already eaten, and I’ve had three glasses of champagne...’ She seemed momentarily shy. ‘Actually, what I’d really like to do is go home and get changed.’ She rubbed at her legs through the skirt of her swishy green dress and shot him a little smile. ‘I’m a bit cold.’
He’d taken in the details of Mia’s dress while she’d been talking to Lotte. He liked the way it nipped in at the waist, the plain bodice, the modest neckline, but it was flimsy. Even with her jacket over the top it wouldn’t be nearly warm enough now that the darkness had rolled in on the back of a northerly wind.
‘So... Prinsengracht first.’ He started pushing the bike, tuned in suddenly to the tap of her heels on the paving. ‘Wait! Can you walk in those shoes?’
‘I don’t know.’ She glanced at the bicycle, eyed him mischievously. ‘It wasn’t an issue on the way here...’
The way she was looking at him made it impossible not to smile. He stopped, considering the bike. ‘I think we have two options. You can cycle and I’ll run.’ She glanced at his polished leather shoes, winced and shook her head. ‘Or, we can share the bike.’
‘Share it!’ She was laughing. ‘I haven’t done that since I was a kid.’
‘Neither have I.’ He tested his weight on the frame again. ‘It’s strong enough.’
She stepped forward and put her hands on the handlebars. ‘Okay, then, hop on...’
‘Me?’
She looked up, giggling. ‘Gotcha!’
Impossible not to like her. He slipped off his jacket, folding it into a pad for the carrier. ‘Here. You can sit on this.’
‘That’s very chivalrous of you!’ She settled herself sideways on the carrier while he straddled the bike to hold it steady and then she said, ‘I’m so glad I booked first class.’
He laughed, his heart drumming with a sort of childish excitement. ‘Right, hold on tight.’
He put his foot to the pedal and pushed off. After a momentary wobble, which made Mia threaten to walk after all, they were going along smoothly enough. He took a route through the park, getting a feel for the bike, getting used to the idea of Mia sitting right behind him.
He twisted round a little. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine. You could speed up a bit, though...’
He laughed. ‘Give me a chance. I’m out of practice!’
‘How come?’
‘I have a car.’
She was leaning closer. ‘But driving in Amsterdam must be a nightmare...’
‘It’s okay—it’s a compact car.’ He faced front again, smiling to himself. He was rather attached to his low-slung classic sports car. It was the kind of car he used to dream of owning when he was a boy and he still felt a buzz every time he started the engine.
She giggled. ‘Something tells me it’s not a bubble car.’
‘I wouldn’t fit into one of those.’ He turned onto Nassaukade and felt an unfamiliar tightness in his calf muscles. Running was his thing, he could run for miles, but cycling was working his legs in a different way.
‘So, do you even own a bike?’
‘No.’ He tried a change of gear, felt the pedals stiffening against his feet.
‘That’s terrible! How can you live in the city of bicycles and not own a bicycle?’
‘I have a rebellious streak.’ He changed gear again, pedalling hard until they were flying along, passing lively bars, busy restaurants, closed shops and hoardings covered in colourful graffiti. Mia was laughing, urging him to go even faster, so he pedalled harder, then had to ring the bell frantically at a group of tourists who were standing on the cycle path consulting a map. They scattered just in time.
‘Sorreee...’ Her yelled apology disappeared on the breeze and then her hand was on his back. ‘You nearly killed them!’
‘You were the one who told me to speed up.’
‘I didn’t mean for you to mow down innocent tourists!’
He grinned. ‘They didn’t look that innocent.’
She laughed. ‘How on earth could you tell? You only saw the whites of their eyes.’
He was laughing again, noticing how his cheeks were aching from it. Quads burning, cheeks aching; all the muscles he wasn’t used to using. Mia was putting him through his paces, and he was loving every second.
He slowed over a bridge, then stopped. ‘Which side of Prinsengracht are you?’
‘West, just up from Leidsegracht.’
He pushed off again, cycling more sedately until he felt her hand on his back again, patting gently. ‘My boat’s just up there on the right. The one with the blue roof.’
‘You live on a boat?’
‘Didn’t I mention it?’
He pulled on the brakes and felt her lurch softly against him. ‘No. I don’t think you did.’
* * *
Mia closed the bedroom door and rolled back against it, her cheeks aching with smiles. Had she just ridden pillion through Amsterdam behind Theo Molenaar? Three weeks ago she’d said goodbye to him in London and now he was on her houseboat—in Amsterdam! She was tingling. That moment when she’d turned around and he’d been right there in front of her...
‘Hello, Mia.’
How she hadn’t collapsed with shock, she’d never know. There were over a million people in Amsterdam. Bumping into Theo—literally—was a one in a million chance.
One in a million!
She held her breath, listening to him moving about in the salon—little creaks, the thud of his feet as he walked over the rug. On the bike he’d made her laugh until her sides ached. Those little quips he’d made, their easy back and forth as they’d wheeled along. He was funny as well as gorgeous, an irresistible combination.
She pressed her hands to her cheeks. She didn’t have to look in the mirror to know she was flushed, and it wasn’t because of the champagne, or because of the cool breeze whipping at her face as they’d flown through the streets. It was because of Theo, because she’d been close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough to catch the scent of his cologne. Twice she’d touched his broad back, felt his muscles working beneath the dark cashmere sweater. It had been hard not to slide her hand upward to touch the hair curling at the back of his neck.
She kicked off her shoes and slipped out of her dress. That boyish delight on his face as he’d stepped onto the barge, his eyes shining as he’d come down the steps into the salon—like a kid at Christmas. How different people could be. Hal had always found the boat too cramped when they’d stayed for a weekend, and Ash could only tolerate it for a day or two. But she’d always loved it. Loved the smallness of it—everything scaled down—like a playhouse. It was magical, and from the look on his face she could tell that Theo thought so too.
She wriggled into her jeans, felt a sudden stab of uncertainty. What was he expecting now? He’d asked her to leave the fundraiser with him. He’d suggested going for a drink, or getting something to eat, but she’d brought him home. All she’d wanted was to change out of her dress, but maybe he was thinking... What? She flung on a slouchy black sweater and lowered herself onto the bed. What kind of signals had she been sending out?
She closed her eyes, groaned silently as her own words came back to her: ‘Didn’t you come with someone?’
It had been a knee-jerk react
ion because she’d assumed that a man like Theo would have a date, but mouthing over the words again, remembering the conversation that followed, she realised that she’d basically asked him if he was single—and he’d basically replied that he was.
She sighed. Two single people on a barge in Amsterdam. Strangers who’d shared a car, then a bicycle... He was a stranger, and yet she felt a connection with him, had felt it from the start. Something about him drew her in, stirred her heart... It was why she’d left the fundraiser with him. But...he was also Ash’s new business associate, and hadn’t she determined just that morning to give him a wide berth for exactly that reason?
She got up, crossed to the mirror and started tidying her hair. Mixing personal relationships with business didn’t work. Hal had manipulated her. He’d known she’d convince Ash that the financial irregularities he was seeing on the spreadsheets were nothing to do with him. Unwittingly, she’d bought him time, time he’d used to almost bankrupt the company. Ash’s face—all the light draining out it—the way he’d looked at her when it all came out.
She swallowed hard. Falling for someone was a risk, especially if they were in business with the only person you had left in the world. How could she even be thinking of going there again...?
Her eyes slid to the photo hanging on the cabin wall—her parents laughing together, young and in love. That was what everyone wanted, wasn’t it? To be loved; to have a home. It was what she wanted...in spite of Hal, in spite of all the heartbreak she’d been through. She couldn’t stop herself hoping. She stretched her fingers to the frame, straightening it. If only she could ask her parents for advice, but she’d lived without them for longer than she’d lived with them, and as the years rolled on they were only growing more and more distant. She stared at their faces, trying to conjure their voices, trying to pull them back into her heart, but the space was too big to fill. Hal had filled it for a while, but then he’d blown it apart, made the hole even bigger, even more ragged around the edges.
She pictured Theo’s intent green gaze, the kindness in it. He wasn’t Ash’s business partner. He was an associate. He was investing in Ash, funding the software development. It wasn’t the same as Hal... Or was it? She couldn’t think straight.