And she cried even harder when she heard how Alexander had found a certain Simon Lowther.
Wiping tears from her cheeks with kitchen roll, she gasped,
‘I love you so much. How the hell do you get yourself into these things.’
‘I think it’s called insanity.’
When she’d calmed down and poured them a coffee, Bronte sniffed and sent her a naughty smile.
‘My mother always knew you had a thing for Alexander.’
She did?
Rosie grimaced.
‘He’s never looked at me twice.’
‘Yes, he has,’ came the response. ‘If we’re at an event or a cocktail party you’re always on his radar. He always knows who you’re with and what you’re doing. Do you remember that time we were on half-term from school and you went out with that guy Rick, the one with the Harley?’
Sipping her coffee, Rosie recalled Alexander going ballistic because she’d been on the back of the bike without a helmet.
‘It’s that type of behaviour that drove me nuts.’
Her friend nodded.
‘It wasn’t only that. He’d seen you on the back of the bike when it overtook his car too fast. He didn’t stop pacing until you returned home. I thought he was going to kill Rick.’
Rosie recalled the way Alexander had hauled her up on her toes and threatened to ‘beat the living breath out of her’ if she ever did such a ‘stupid, bloody thing’ again.
Bronte continued,
‘Mum said you’d scared him and he couldn’t cope with it.’
‘I was seventeen and stupid.’
‘Yeah, and he was twenty-four and demented. Mum told me then that he had a thing for you.’
‘Why did you never say anything?’ Rosie demanded to know, happily forgetting that she hadn’t been honest with her friend either.
Bronte shook her head.
‘She warned me to keep out of it, that if you had feelings for him you’d have told me. That if anything was going to happen it would happen when the time was right. There’s been a couple of times when I’ve wondered if the pair of you would take the next step, but you fight like a pair of cats.’ She shrugged. ‘So I forgot about it.’
Now she frowned in a way that made Rosie brace herself.
Emerald eyes, wary and concerned, met hers.
‘If he’s changed the dynamic it means he’s serious. You’ve slept with him which means your feelings must be serious too.’ When Rosie said nothing, her friend leaned her elbows on the table. ‘When did you know?’
Rosie couldn’t just sit there and lie straight to her friend’s face so she stood and paced to French doors opened wide to the garden and paced back.
‘My whole life.’
Bronte simply stared at her in a stunned silence that spoke volumes.
‘Is it because of Alexander you’re leaving us?’ her voice was cool now.
Rosie knew what that tone meant.
It meant business.
Shit.
She plopped into a chair and pressed fingertips into her eyelids.
‘It feels like I’ve loved him my whole life.’ Then she met Bronte’s eyes and saw the shock.
She gripped her hands.
‘You must promise, never, ever to tell him. Please, Bronte, I couldn’t bear it.’
Bronte’s eyes went huge.
Then her hand reached for and found Rosie’s.
‘I’ve been so stupid. Why the hell didn’t I see it?’
Rosie shook her head, hot tears stung her eyes.
‘I couldn’t tell you. I was afraid it might change our friendship.’
‘That’s crazy.’
‘Please understand. I haven’t told another living soul. Well, except for Josh and that was recently because I’ve been having a hard time dealing with it.’
Now Bronte pulled her hand away.
‘You told Josh?’
‘It sort of poured out of me when we tried to see if we had the zing.’ Now her eyes pleaded with Bronte’s. ‘We didn’t have the zing. It was like kissing a brother.’
‘But why didn’t you tell me?’
Rosie grimaced.
‘Nico’s father died and I’d already decided to move on instead of living in my head all the time.’
At the worry she saw in those big green eyes, Rosie felt her own prickle and a single tear tipped over.
‘Has it been very bad?’ Bronte’s whisper held nothing but support and love.
Seriously annoyed with herself, Rosie brushed her cheek with an impatient hand.
‘Not all the time. It sort of rolls around in cycles, like influenza. Horrible to live through at the time, but then it passes and you sort of get over it until it hits again.’
Now her friend’s voice went soft and low.
‘Oh, Rosie. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’
‘What would you have done? I can’t cope with the thought of him knowing how I feel because you know what he’ll be like.’
Bronte opened her mouth then snapped it shut as she frowned.
‘He’d not want to hurt you. He’d be kind and caring and gentle with your feelings. Shit, Rosie.’
She knew her friend would understand.
A huge wave of relief washed over her and she gave Bronte a smile that wobbled.
‘I couldn’t bear it.’
Bronte heaved a huge sigh as her fingers squeezed.
‘Of course you couldn’t. But you’re not thinking. What if he loves you back?’
Rosie shook her head refusing to let her mind even go there.
‘It could never be an equal love.’
And what the hell did that mean?
Bronte sat back and watched Rosie’s battle with her emotions.
‘Explain,’ she demanded.
‘I love him too much.’
The fear was back in those large brown eyes and something else too.
‘You’re scared?’
‘Terrified.’
How is it that you think you know a person inside out and yet Rosie had managed to keep such a huge secret from her?
But now anxiety for her brother joined worry for her best friend.
No way would her brother make love to Rosie unless he was absolutely sure of his feelings.
Why couldn’t she see that?
‘You need to tell him how you feel.’
Rosie’s eyes went wild in a way that made Bronte’s belly clench.
‘I can’t. He’ll never ever be able to love me enough.’
Now that, Bronte decided, made absolutely no sense.
How could Rosie know Alexander’s feelings for her unless she told him of her own?
‘How the hell could he hurt you if he loves you and you love him? How can you expect him to read your mind?’
Rosie shut her eyes, squeezed tight.
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Damn right I don’t understand. Hell, you didn’t even tell me. Did I ever really know you? I wonder about that now because the Rosie I know would never, ever hurt my brother. Keeping secrets causes mistrust, heartbreak and pain.
‘You haven’t been honest and not only with Alexander and me. But worse, with yourself!’
Rosie’s head snapped back as if she’d been slapped.
‘I knew this would happen. I knew it.’
‘What? That I’m worried about you and concerned about my brother?’
‘I knew this would affect our friendship.’
Bronte seriously wanted to shake her.
‘It hasn’t affected our friendship, you twit. Don’t you know there’s nothing you could do that would make me love you less?’ Then she thought about it for a moment. ‘Unless you tried to sleep with Nico and then I’d kill both of you.’
Bronte’s lips twitched and the atmosphere calmed.
Their eyes met and held.
‘It’s not funny, Bronte.’ Again she pressed her fingertips into her eyelids. ‘Christ, I’m a mess. He wants me to be h
is partner for functions at Ludlow Hall.’
‘I should bloody well think so too. What’s the problem?’
Big dark eyes stared into hers and Bronte frowned at what she saw there.
‘People will talk.’
Blink, blink.
‘And? So?’
This was ridiculous.
What the hell was wrong with Rosie?
‘I’m not exactly his type, am I? He should have somebody like Janine at his side.’
Bronte found her voice going higher.
‘He’s doesn’t have romantic feelings for her and he’s not sleeping with Janine.’
Now Rosie pouted.
‘I’m not tall or slim or from the right background.’
How she kept her temper Bronte would never know.
Carefully she counted to ten before she replied,
‘Are you kidding me?’
Her tone was one of disbelief and Bronte saw the reaction she wanted to see in those big eyes.
Shame.
And Rosemary Margaret Gordon should be thoroughly ashamed of herself.
Now her friend’s shoulders hunched and those brown eyes flicked to meet hers.
‘You don’t understand.’
‘You’re a snob.’
That chin lifted and Bronte wanted to pop it one.
‘No, I’m a realist.’
The time had come for some straight talking.
‘You’re an idiot and I’m ashamed of you. Don’t you know how happy it would make me, Nico and the kids to have you as my sister? If Alexander is in love with you and you’re in love with him then you owe it to both of you to be nothing but honest with each other.’
She could see Rosie’s brain ticking over but something was very wrong.
What on earth had happened to her friend’s self-esteem and self-worth?
She just couldn’t get her head around it.
But Bronte knew if she pushed too hard, Rosie would simply dig her heels in and refuse to budge.
So she stood and moved around the table to hug her friend.
Rosie buried her face in her tummy, clung on.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.’
Bronte stroked the shiny hair, soft as silk.
She’d had her say and could only hope that some of it sank into that stubborn head.
First chance she got, she was going to speak to Alexander.
She’d keep Rosie’s secret, for now.
Chapter Thirty
That afternoon Bronte Ferranti strode through Ludlow Hall and she was not in the mood for crap.
So when she walked into her brother’s office to find a guest on a foul mouthed rant with Alexander’s white faced personal assistant, Julie, backed up against a wall, she didn’t think twice and pressed the silent alarm. The guy was at least three hundred pounds and his hand was fisted around what looked like a bill.
It was a sad fact of life that in the hospitality industry part of the deal was handling dickheads.
‘You’ll want to back off, right now,’ Bronte told him in a hard voice.
The way she placed herself between them had the man turn to her with a snarl.
His face was mottled and puffy.
As she pushed Julie towards the door Bronte recognised signs of the hangover from hell. Bloodshot eyes, the heady scent of sweat, unbrushed teeth and alcohol.
Her ex-fiancé used to overindulge and like this guy, he’d been a bad drunk.
He shook his fist holding the invoice in her face.
‘Have you seen this? It’s a fucking rip-off. No way did I spend over five hundred pounds in the bar.’
Nico, Alexander and a security team entered.
‘Step away, Bronte,’ Nico said in a smooth tone that told her she was in trouble.
She went to move, but Mr. Rotbreath grabbed her wrist and that was all it took for her husband to have the guy French kissing the wall.
Later Nico and the security team gave the police a statement.
Her husband had a zero tolerance with intimidation or abuse of his employees.
The police had interviewed a very shaken Julie.
Alexander handed his PA a glass of water, put his hand on her shoulder.
‘Are you okay?’
She thrust a trembling hand through her blonde hair.
‘I left my post for a minute to put letters on your desk for signing and he was in here so fast and had me against the wall before I could even think.’
‘Do you want to go home?’
She shook her head.
‘No. I’ll be better off here. I’m fine.’
‘Take a break. If you’re still shaky, I’ll phone Phil.’
‘Better not, he’ll want to tear him limb from limb.’
‘Your husband will need to get in line behind the rest of us.’
She grinned now.
‘Did you see how fast Nico moved?’
‘The asshole made the mistake of putting his hand on my sister.’
Julie rose and her hand found Bronte’s.
She squeezed.
‘Thanks for that. You’ve no idea how relieved I was to see you.’
Once Nico escorted the police out and Julie left, Bronte sank into a soft leather chair, eyed her brother.
‘Quite a day. Does this happen often?’
Alexander sent her a brotherly stare that told her he wasn’t happy with her intervention on Julie’s behalf.
‘Nope. We have a strict procedure in place to deal with difficult guests. I’ll have a talk with the front desk and find out why he wasn’t closed down when he kicked off.’
The door opened, Nico entered and he didn’t look a happy man.
Dark eyes zeroed in on her.
Crap.
He moved fast to lean his hands on the arms of the chair effectively trapping her.
And brought his face close to hers.
‘What the hell was that?’
Annoyance brought her chin up.
The move made his nostrils flare.
‘He looked as if he was going to hit her.’
His eyes flashed.
‘So you decided to place yourself between them instead of calling for help?’
‘What was I supposed to do?’ she demanded in a tone that made those eyes inform her she was pushing her luck.
‘You were supposed to press the panic button.’
‘I did press the panic button! I couldn’t just walk away and leave her like that.’
Now he stood and the way he thrust his hands into his trouser pockets told her he wanted to throttle her.
‘He was ready to hurt you, cara,’ his voice went deep and low.
She’d scared him.
Perhaps she could have handled it differently, but she hadn’t stopped to think.
Even now the expression on poor Julie’s face made her absolutely furious.
‘But he didn’t hurt me.’
Now those eyes narrowed.
‘We will talk about this later,’ he promised her before turning to Alexander. ‘I have security, reception staff and the assistant manager waiting for me.’
Alexander rose.
‘I’ll be right there.’
Nico shook his head.
‘No. You stay here, talk some sense into your sister. I am not having anyone terrorise my staff and get away with it. I want to know why he escalated and was not dealt with.’
He stalked out and the door closed behind him with a soft click.
Her brother studied her for a long moment.
‘He’s right. You could have been hurt.’
Now guilt danced a little jig with annoyance.
‘Okay, okay. I only came for a chat with you.’
Now his eyes searched hers.
‘You’ve seen Rosie?’
‘She’s a nervous wreck.’
He frowned.
‘Then she can just get over herself.’
Bronte’s eyes went wide at the tone, at the determined look in
his eyes.
‘If you push too hard, she’ll run.’
He shrugged.
‘She can run as far and as fast as she likes. But she’s mine.’
Bloody hell, when had her brother become a caveman?
Rubbing her jaw, she wondered how to handle it.
‘Want some advice?’
Now his eyes met hers and they held a warning.
‘Nope.’
‘Is that your way of telling me to mind my own business?’
His smile was kind.
‘I seem to remember the time you told me to butt out of your business when you and Nico got all hot and heavy.’
She did indeed.
And he was absolutely right.
It was none of her business.
Standing, she turned to him and found him watching her with something like sympathy and understanding in his eyes.
God he reminded her so much of his father.
‘Do you love her?’
He shook his head.
‘Not going there with you. This is between me and Rosie. Too many people have meddled already.’
Her brows met.
‘Who?’
‘Nico and Josh Erichsen just to name two and I’m not having it.’
‘What has Nico done?’ she demanded to know.
‘Why don’t you ask him?’
Confused, annoyed and not a little hurt, Bronte simply stared at him.
Nico knew something was happening between her brother and best friend and hadn’t told her?
More secrets?
She hated secrets and lies and her husband damn well knew it.
‘Don’t worry, I will.’ With her hand placed on the door handle, she turned to him and now her voice dripped ice. ‘I was scared she might hurt you. But you know what? I hope she kicks your butt.’
The door closed behind her.
Alexander found himself grinning.
He couldn’t wait to have a little word in Ms Gordon’s ear about a certain Simon Lowther.
‘Run, Rosie, run,’ he thought. ‘Angel face, you’re a very naughty girl. And you’re all mine.’
Chapter Thirty One
Bronte leaned in the doorway of her bedroom with her arms folded watching her husband take off his suit jacket.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
He raised a brow at her tone, took off his tie.
‘Alexander asked me to keep it quiet until he had sorted things out with her. He was upset. I had already interfered enough by pointing Josh in Rosie’s direction.’
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