“Don’t cry,” William said.
“I’m not.” She raised her face again and rubbed a hand across it. “I’m tired, that’s all.” She lifted her gaze to the stars. “It’s Matariki today.”
“What’s that?”
“Midwinter. Shortest day.” She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting back tears.
To her surprise, her father put his arm around her shoulder, pulled her close, and kissed her hair. He’d never been overly demonstrative, and she had to fight very hard not to cry.
“What are you doing here, Daddy?” she whispered. “And, more importantly, what’s Richard doing here?”
William sighed. “He told me he wanted to surprise you. That he’d missed you. Now, I’m beginning to suspect that he knew Danny was here and he wanted to check for himself.”
She picked a leaf from the nearby bush and began to shred it into pieces. “Did you know he was with Pippa when he rang?”
Her father dropped his arm and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“I’m sorry that Danny stayed here. I just wanted to be with him, that was all.”
“Sweetheart, you’re twenty-five. I never expected you to wait for Richard, and I don’t think he did either, even though he was obviously jealous when he suspected there was someone here.”
She stared at him. “You didn’t?”
He sighed. “This marriage between you and Richard—it was a dream the four of us had—your mother and I, and his parents—when you were both young. It seemed the perfect answer to the issue of keeping the estates secure, and as you grew up both of you were friends and seemed conducive to the idea. But as the years have gone by, your mother suspected it wasn’t going to work out.”
This was news to Hermione, who continued to stare at him. “Seriously?”
“She’s mentioned it a few times—when you were at university, and then after you left, when you set up your business. It was me who pooh-poohed it and told her not to worry. Richard seemed like a sound fellow, good looking enough, intelligent, good job. I thought he’d treat you well. Your mother and I weren’t a love match, you know, but love grew over the years.”
She returned her gaze to the leaf, knowing she’d based her own hopes for a future with Richard on her parents’ relatively happy relationship. “I know.”
“I wanted it to work, so I continued to push it. When you came here, your mother told me it was because you wanted to escape, but I didn’t want to believe that. It’s why I agreed that Richard should come—I thought he could convince you that marrying him was the right thing.”
“But you’ve changed your mind now?”
He looked up and gave a small smile. “Richard might have respected you, and treated you well. But he’s never looked at you the way that young man just looked at you.”
Her face flamed. “Dad...”
“His feelings were written all over his face. And sweetheart, you’ve sounded so happy over the past few weeks—happier than I’ve ever known you.”
She nodded slowly. “I like it here, Dad. I feel comfortable here—I fit in. I don’t know why. Everyone’s so friendly and accepting. They don’t judge you. And Danny...” She stopped and thought about him, about how he made her feel. “I was terribly rude to him when I first came here, but he’s just a wonderful man. He couldn’t go to university because he had to look after his father when his mother left him—his dad has M.S.”
William’s eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yes. I think Danny’s worried he doesn’t have much longer, although of course you can never be sure. But he looks after his father in the evenings and at weekends. He works so hard, too—he set up his business himself. He’s honest and kind, and his friends adore him.”
William smiled. “You love him.”
“I do, Dad, I really do. Is that terrible?”
“No, sweetheart. It’s perfectly natural.” He put his arm around her again, and she leaned her head on his shoulder and looked at the stars.
“What do you want to do?” he said eventually. “Do you want to move here?”
She lifted her head, shivering a little in the cool night. “I don’t know. I’ll have to speak to him first, obviously. He might not want me still.”
William laughed. “Oh, he’s not going to let you go anytime soon, believe me. What about your business?”
“I’m not sure. I could let Renee run the London office and set up another one here. Or let her buy me out and do something different. I’d have to think about it.” Hope rose within her. “You’d let me do it? You’d let me move to the other side of the world and marry a gardener?”
“Your life was always your own, Hermione—I would never have forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do. And anyway, you wouldn’t be marrying any old gardener—you’d be marrying the owner of a landscaping business. I’d say that was very respectable.”
She chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.”
He shrugged. “I liked him the moment I met him months ago. He’s a good guy, dependable and hardworking. I admire that in a man.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Richard pacing the floor. “What about him?”
He glanced at him. “I don’t know. Maybe if he can’t have my eldest daughter, he’ll settle for my middle one.”
“I think Pippa would make him happy,” Hermione said. Actually, she thought her sister would run rings around him, but then perhaps that was what he needed.
William grinned. “Let me talk to him. I’ll organize for him to stay in that hotel up the road and then fly back soon. What about you, are you going to go and find your young man now? Tell him the good news.”
“Yes, in a minute.” Her heart swelled at the thought, although she hoped she hadn’t left it too late. “First, though, I have one more favor to ask...”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Danny drove too fast into Paihia, nearly came off the road at a steep bend, and pulled the car over.
Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on the steering wheel.
He cursed himself at the despair that washed over him, mocking himself for his ridiculous thoughts. What had he expected? Had he seriously thought Hermione would give up her privileged lifestyle to move across the world and live with a common gardener? She was prepared to marry a man she didn’t love to keep that lifestyle. The affection they’d had would never have been enough to counter that.
There was an ocean between them in more ways than one—physically and metaphorically. It didn’t matter that they like the same movies and music, that they could talk for hours about nothing, and that they were well matched in the bedroom. She belonged in England, with her estates and her horses and her elegant lifestyle. He’d been a fool to think he mattered to her.
Even as the thought passed through his head, though, he knew he was doing her a disservice. He did matter to her—he knew he did. She was bound by ties of loyalty and duty, just the same as he was, and she was making the same decision he had made with Lynda not so long ago, placing her family above her own desires and needs.
Sitting back in the seat, he looked out across the Pacific to his left. The ocean was a silver plate, cold and hard in the moonlight.
Love was an ephemeral, ethereal thing. It was like the damask roses he’d planted in the garden—a thing of beauty, but it was the soil in which they were planted that held the real value. Reality was tough decisions, compromises, and duty—like the earth that he worked with every day, these were the things that mattered, and he was a fool to have been captivated by something so insubstantial.
He leaned his head on the rest and sighed. He’d have to go home, but at that moment he couldn’t face the thought of being quizzed by his father and Fleur.
Putting the car in Drive, he headed down the road to Between the Sheets. Hopefully his friends would have headed home for the night, and he could be left by himself to get drunk fast.
He parked down the road, w
alked up to the bar, and went inside. It was a little quieter than it had been before he’d left, and he was relieved to see his friends had gone, all except Beck, who was still working.
Beck’s eyebrows rose as he approached.
“Don’t,” Danny said, sitting heavily on a stool.
Beck studied him for a moment, then turned and poured him a double shot of whiskey over some ice. “On the house,” he said, sliding it across.
Danny downed it in one. He winced as it burned all the way to his stomach, then let out a long sigh.
“Another?”
“Please.”
Beck poured the drink, left him for a few minutes to serve a customer, then came back and leaned on the bar. “She asked you to go?”
“Not quite. The guy she’s going to marry turned up with her father.”
Beck’s eyes widened. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“I floored him.”
Beck snorted. “Good.”
“There was something about him I didn’t like, and it wasn’t just that she’s going to marry him. I dunno. Maybe it was. I probably shouldn’t have hit him.” He flexed his fingers, the knuckles stinging. He hadn’t been in a fight for years. He was turning into a softie.
“What are you going to do?”
Danny shrugged. “Nothing I can do. I know Tess would say that’s being defeatist but it’s over, Beck. And I was stupid to think there could have been anything between us other than a light-hearted holiday fling.” Emotion overwhelmed him, and he covered it by taking a huge gulp of whiskey.
Beck wiped a cloth across the surface of the bar, then picked up a couple of empty glasses. “Yeah. Love sucks. I know all about that.”
Danny sighed. “Josie still giving you a hard time?”
“I hardly see her. Only when we swap Edward over, and even then she can barely look at me.”
“I’m sorry, mate.”
Beck scrubbed at a mark on the bar. “Eh, it’s done. I know we’ll never get back together now. She’s moved on, and I’ve got to get on with my life.” By the look on his face, he was far from doing that.
“Love really fucks you up, doesn’t it?”
“Yup. Every time.”
The two of them stared moodily at each other.
Danny told himself he’d probably had a lucky escape. Beck had done it all—met the girl, got married, had a kid, and yet it still hadn’t worked out. A happy ever after was never guaranteed.
“Why are relationships such hard work?” He swirled the whiskey over the ice in the glass. “I don’t get it. It should be easy. Two people like each other, they get on, they’re physically attracted—it should be that simple.”
“I don’t know. I guess we all change, and maybe what we wanted out of a relationship at the beginning isn’t what we need months or years down the line. Or things happen to change the direction, blowing you off course. Sometimes it’s nothing to do with the two of you—it’s an event or an incident that changes the way you look at each other.”
Danny knew it was pointless to quiz Beck about what had gone wrong with Josie, but it was the nearest his friend had ever come to opening up about it. Clearly, something had happened between the two of them that had pushed them apart. Danny had asked Genie, but she’d said that Beck hadn’t told her, and if he hadn’t told his sister or his best mate in the eighteen months since it had all gone wrong, Danny doubted he was going to start now.
“I know guys always say this after a breakup, but I’m done with women.” He took another swallow of whiskey. He was far from drunk, but the alcohol was starting to thread through his veins, easing the tension around his shoulders. “I’ll miss the sex, but it’s not worth all the hassle.”
“You don’t want kids?”
Danny rested his head on his hand. “For the first time, with Hermione, I began to think I might want a family in the future. I could see it all—standing beside her at the altar, promising to stay with her forever, her being pregnant...” Then the snowflake had melted, and Danny couldn’t voice the disappointment and sadness he felt. “Oh well. That’s that.”
He finished off his glass, meeting Beck’s gaze as he did so. Beck stroked his beard, and then his lips curved up. “Or maybe not.” His gaze slid past Danny, and then he pushed himself off the bar and moved away to serve a customer.
Danny turned, following where Beck had looked.
Hermione stood there, hands jammed in the pockets of her jeans, shivering a little, although whether it was from the cold or nerves at seeing him, he didn’t know. Her eyes were huge, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths.
“Hi,” she said.
His heart thundered, but he forced himself to stay sitting. She’d probably come to say a final goodbye, maybe to return his bag. She wasn’t carrying it, but it could be in her car. He wasn’t going to make a fool of himself. “Hi.”
She took another step closer, then stopped. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. What do you want?” It came out sharper than he’d meant.
She bit her lip and studied her feet. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
The tension that had made him hunch his shoulders left him, and he slumped in the seat. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not a problem. Go home, Hermione. Go and be with the guy you’re going to marry.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “I am.”
He frowned, confused.
A hint of a smile touched her lips. “If the offer’s still there, that is.”
His frown lifted, and he stared at her. “What?”
She stepped closer again, stopping when she was only a few inches away. Because he still sat on the stool, her eyes were level with his, and they were filled with warmth.
Her perfume rose to ensnare him, stirring his senses, and she smiled. “I’m not going to marry Richard. I’m crazy about you, Danny. I want to stay here, in New Zealand, and be with you. If you still want me.” Her smile faltered.
He was conscious of his jaw hanging, but he couldn’t think what to say. “You’re not going back to the UK?”
“No. Well, I might later to tie things up there with the business, but if I do it’ll only be a few weeks, and I thought you might like to come with me maybe, for a holiday?”
He couldn’t take it all in. “You want to stay here? With me?”
She gave a real smile then, filled with laughter and happiness. “Yes, Danny. I love you, and I can’t bear the thought of being apart from you.”
“But...what does your father say?”
“He just wants me to be happy.” Her cheeks flushed. “I thought all this time that he didn’t care, but he does. He likes you, and he could see that you like me.”
“And Richard?”
“Richard never loved me. He’s hardly going to be devastated. I think he might marry my sister—he’ll still get the estate, and she’ll make him a much better wife than I ever could.”
Danny got slowly to his feet, his heart filling with light. He could hardly believe he would be this lucky. But there was one last thing they had to clear up before they popped the champagne.
*
Hermione held her breath as Danny cupped her face. His eyes were filled with warmth, and her words had clearly thrilled him. Relief flooded her—he still wanted her!
He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. I should have told you earlier, but I love you so much, and I do want you to be my wife. But there is one issue.” He hesitated.
She swallowed. “What?”
“My father...”
She blew out a breath, turned her head, and kissed his wrist. “Listen, I have something I’d like to say, if you’ll hear me out.” Her heart began to race again. What would he say to her suggestion? “I’ve spoken to my father, and I asked him for something special as a wedding present, if we do get married, and he’s said yes. I hope I don’t offend you by offering it, and I’ll understa
nd completely if you say no.”
Danny’s face fell, and he let his hands drop. Did he think she was going to offer to pay to put his father into a home? Love washed over her—she knew he wouldn’t want that, and she would never have suggested it.
She took his hands in her own. “I’ve asked Dad for the house on the hill as a wedding present, if you would consider moving there with me and your father. It’s all one level and very open plan, so it would be great for his wheelchair. He’d be able to sit on the deck and look at the sea, or watch you working in the garden.”
She was speaking faster now, beginning to feel nervous at the continued blank look on his face. “And...um...I was thinking that maybe I could help to look after him, if he didn’t mind. I haven’t decided yet whether to give up my business completely or whether to run a branch here, I need to think about that a bit more, but I did wonder whether maybe you could do with some admin help with Love Landscaping—I could do the accounts and the planning and stuff, and then I could work from home and be there for Ron, and—”
“Wait, wait, slow down.” He kissed her lips to stop her talking.
“But—” she said when he lifted his head.
He kissed her again, longer this time, his mouth moving across hers from corner to corner and then back to the middle until she’d almost melted into a puddle on the floor.
When he finally stopped, she gave a long, satisfied sigh.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured, rubbing his nose against hers.
“You still want to marry me?”
“Of course I want to marry you. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, you have a heart of gold, and your body drives to me distraction.”
She shivered at the hungry possession in his words. “I can’t believe it. You really want to be with me?”
“I do, and I’ll happily accept your and your father’s very generous offer.”
Her mouth formed an O. “Really? I thought the whole male pride thing might take over and force you to refuse.”
“I do have pride, but I’m not stupid. Dad would adore the house, and our place in town is too small for all three of us—if we want any privacy anyway.”
An Ocean Between Us Page 20