One Night with Her Ex

by Lucy King

‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Do you still love her?’

  Kit felt the totally unexpected question hit him like a punch to the chest.

  Did he?

  He’d spent the last five years thinking he didn’t, but who knew? Seeing her again last night had thrown everything he’d always assumed about their relationship and his life for the last five years into question, so how he felt about Lily or anything for that matter was now up in the air.

  The only thing he was sure about was that they weren’t done. Quite apart from all the questions he had for her, he hadn’t apologised for what he’d done all those years ago and for basically blaming her for it. He hadn’t told her of the guilt he carried or asked her for her forgiveness, and the need to put all of this right burned inside him like a hot coal.

  Last night had opened doors he’d never imagined would ever open again, and now—even if they were only slightly ajar—he wasn’t about to let them close. Not only did he seek redemption, he also had the feeling that he was hovering on the brink of a second chance with Lily here, and even though it had never crossed his mind before, had never been something he’d thought he wanted, he now realised he wanted it more than anything, and if that didn’t tell him that he still had feelings for her he didn’t know what would.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, erring on the side of caution because how he felt about Lily still needed further analysis. ‘Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, there are things we need to figure out. Please, Zoe.’

  There was another long silence while Zoe presumably weighed up the pros and cons of telling him and he held his breath.

  ‘Oh, OK,’ she said eventually and Kit felt the tension drain from his shoulders. ‘But look, she really is working so you can’t go barging in there right now.’

  ‘When, then?’

  ‘She finishes next Sunday. Afterwards she’s staying on for a few days’ holiday until the following Saturday.’

  He rubbed a hand along his jaw while his brain raced. He could wait a week, couldn’t he? It would give him time to think. Plan. Delegate. Figure out exactly what he wanted to say and how he was going to say it, and how he was going to persuade her to give them the second chance he thought they had. And actually, neutral territory, without any association to the past, might be just the thing.

  ‘Fine,’ he said, ‘I’ll wait. You have my word.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Zoe, sounding as though she didn’t think his word counted for much.

  ‘Where is she, Zoe?’ he said, ignoring the sting of his ex-sister-in-law’s scepticism because right now he had more important things to focus on.

  ‘On her way to the Indian Ocean. Santa Teresa Island. She’s staying at the Coral Bay Lodge.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Look, Kit, Lily hasn’t had a holiday in years. She’s really looking forward to it. It took her ages to get over you. Tell me I’m not going to regret having told you where she’s going.’

  ‘You won’t regret it.’

  He’d make sure of it.

  FIVE

  As jobs went, this one hadn’t exactly been a hardship, thought Lily, settling on her sun lounger and preparing herself to test the customer service levels of the beach-bar staff, although this time for her own personal pleasure.

  Some were, some weren’t. That was the way it went, and had gone, right from the start. MMS had started off offering customer satisfaction surveys before expanding to include services such as employee performance analysis, consumer demographic studies and bespoke training programmes, all in the name of driving service excellence. Their clients came in all shapes and sizes and temperaments.

  This particular—easy—client had been with them since their inception and had grown with similar speed. Somehow, as the by-product of a much larger deal they’d ended up with a portfolio of assets that included the island of Santa Teresa. They’d offloaded the assets they didn’t want, but had decided to keep Santa Teresa with its once five-star luxury resort to see what they could do with it. They’d hired MMS to conduct a thorough analysis of how to turn the business around on the consumer side of things.

  Normally MMS contracted the fieldwork out. In their business anonymity was key, and employing a small band of discreet, trustworthy, reliable freelancers to go wherever they were needed allowed Lily to concentrate on the marketing, sales and client side of the business and Zoe to focus on the numbers and data analysis.

  On this occasion, however, the woman they’d hired to spend a week assessing the performance of staff and the overall consumer experience at the Coral Bay Lodge had slipped on ice and broken her ankle over Christmas and couldn’t fly. At such short notice, especially over the holiday season, they hadn’t been able to get anyone else so Lily had taken on the job.

  Actually, she’d been heartily grateful for the distraction. January in London was typically on the quiet side and if she’d been there twiddling her thumbs she’d have had hours in which to dwell on everything that had happened on New Year’s Eve. Instead she’d been so busy working, concentrating on the details and reporting back to Zoe with her findings that she hadn’t given Kit a moment’s thought.

  Well, hardly a moment’s thought, she amended, picking up the cocktail menu and wondering whether five in the afternoon was too early for a sundowner.

  He had slipped into her head on the odd unguarded occasion, but whenever he did hot on the heels of it came the instant realisation of just what a bad idea Sunday night had been, how much what he’d done still hurt and how stupid and deluded she’d been to even imagine that him showing up on her doorstep might mean anything other than the need to scratch an itch.

  Thank goodness the sex had been lousy or she’d be in serious trouble, she reflected, glancing down the long list of cocktails. If it had been as mind-blowing as she knew it could be, she’d now undoubtedly be wondering what she’d been missing all these years. What she’d been thinking when she’d decided to pursue relationships with men who didn’t affect her pulse rate.

  She might also well be letting good sex get in the way of good judgement and telling herself that maybe she’d overreacted on Sunday night. She might be thinking that perhaps everything that had gone on between them before was now water under the bridge and why on earth shouldn’t they try again?

  Despite the heat of the day Lily felt a shiver run down her spine. Wow, what a lucky escape she’d had.

  And continued to have because thankfully since the day following the night before she hadn’t heard from Kit. Oh, that Monday he’d called. Repeatedly. At least, she assumed it had been him; she didn’t have his number in her phone, but he’d said he would, and she couldn’t think of anyone else whose number her phone didn’t recognise who would keep popping up with such persistence.

  By the time the tube to Heathrow had emerged above ground, she’d seen she had half a dozen missed calls but, feeling too tired and too emotionally on edge to deal with the conversation she could imagine he’d want to have, she’d switched her phone off.

  She’d switched it on twelve hours later and braced herself for more missed calls, but they seemed to have dried up. Which she was delighted by. Really, she was.

  Smiling up at the waiter who’d materialised beneath her thatch umbrella as if able to read her mind, Lily ordered a margarita. It wasn’t too early and, besides, so what if it was? This was the first holiday she’d had in two years, and she planned to enjoy it.

  After all, how could she not? she thought, lying back as the waiter smoothly retreated, putting her sunglasses on and closing her eyes with a deep sigh of satisfaction.

  The endless azure-blue sky had been unblemished by cloud for the entire last week and the temperature was on average a perfect twenty-eight degrees. She’d downloaded a dozen books to read and there were miles of white sandy beaches to stroll along should she want the exercise. Ditto the sea, which was clear and turquoise and incredibly inviting. And what with the fabulous restaurant and beach b
ar she wasn’t planning on moving for the entire week.

  Lily was on the point of dropping off when the quick tensing of her muscles and the sudden jump in her heart rate alerted her to the fact that someone was standing over her.

  The waiter with her cocktail, she thought delightedly, levering herself up, whipping off her sunglasses and opening her eyes.

  And nearly passing out with shock at the sight of Kit looming over her, blocking out the sun and holding what looked like her drink.

  Oh, no, she thought, her heart plummeting as she stared up at him. There went her plans to relax.

  ‘Hello, Lily,’ he said casually, his deep voice sending goosebumps scattering all over her skin.

  ‘Hello, Kit,’ she replied, adding a cool smile to show that she could do casual too.

  Acting like an automaton, she sat up, swung her legs round and reached for the sarong she’d dropped on the neighbouring sun lounger. With an odd feeling of calm she stood up and wrapped it round her, covering up the bikini that she’d thought modest when she’d put it on this morning but right now felt like the skimpiest thing she’d ever worn.

  She tied the ends of the sarong between her breasts and took a moment to arrange her thoughts. Thoughts that actually weren’t in nearly as much disarray as they ought to have been, she had to acknowledge. Because the strange thing was in all honesty she wasn’t all that surprised to see him. Kit had always been proactive, and what with the way things had been left between them and the way she’d ignored his calls she should have guessed that he wouldn’t have let it lie. In fact, she should have realised something was afoot when the calls had stopped.

  ‘Yours, I believe.’ He held out her drink.

  Lily took it, ensuring that their fingers didn’t accidentally brush. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘The hotel business not doing too well these days, darling? Having to moonlight as a waiter?’

  Kit shot her a smile that despite her intention to stay cool and unruffled made her hot and bothered in a way that had nothing to do with the afternoon heat. ‘The hotel business is doing great. And as I was on my way over anyway I thought I’d save him the trip.’

  Lily lifted the glass to her lips, swallowed down a massive gulp and winced as the tequila shot down her throat and hit her stomach. ‘So thoughtful.’

  ‘I can be.’

  She licked the salt from her lips and felt a sharp stab of satisfaction when his gaze dropped to her mouth for a second. ‘This is beginning to become a bit of a habit,’ she said.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘You showing up unexpectedly.’

  ‘I might be on holiday.’

  Yeah, right. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘My, what a coincidence.’

  ‘Isn’t it just? Do you mind if I join you?’

  Yes. ‘Not at all,’ she said, waving a hand in the direction of the sun lounger to her right as she sat down. ‘Be my guest.’

  Kit took off his sunglasses, folded them and hooked one arm over the V of his T-shirt. Then he sat down and leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees.

  As his eyes met hers Lily felt herself beginning to lose track of things, as she often did when she looked into his eyes, and she wished he’d kept his sunglasses on. Instead she put her own back on, and waited.

  ‘I was told you were staying at the Coral Bay Lodge,’ said Kit.

  ‘Who by?’

  ‘Zoe.’

  Of course. No one else apart from the client knew she was in this part of the world. But what the hell did Zoe think she was doing? Normally her sister was the soul of discretion, so what had happened? How could she ever have thought that Lily would want to see Kit? How had he ever persuaded her to release the details? Had he said something about what had happened between them on New Year’s Eve, and Zoe, in her current state of ecstatic happiness and filled with the resultant determination for everyone else to feel the same, was under some warped misconception that she was facilitating a reconciliation?

  Whatever the reason, Lily thought darkly, she and her sister would be having words just as soon as she was free to call. ‘When did you speak to her?’

  ‘New Year’s Day.’

  A week ago. ‘Right. Why?’

  ‘I rang you, but you didn’t pick up.’

  ‘I was travelling.’

  ‘You didn’t return my calls.’

  ‘I didn’t know it was you.’

  He arched a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Didn’t you?’

  ‘You should have left a message.’

  ‘Would you have called me back if I had?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Sure about that? Because I don’t remember getting a reply to my email.’

  Lily smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Well, I guess we’ll never know, will we?’

  ‘I guess not.’

  ‘So were you worried about me, Kit? Ah, that’s sweet.’

  ‘I wasn’t worried in the slightest,’ he said easily. ‘I merely wanted to talk to you. This seemed to be the only way of achieving that.’

  ‘I’m flattered.’

  ‘You should be. You were tricky to track down.’

  ‘I moved hotels.’

  ‘You moved islands.’

  Lily took another gulp of her margarita. ‘Yes, well, these islands are small. My hanging around on Santa Teresa once my work was done might have looked a bit odd.’

  ‘It took me longer than I’d expected to find you.’

  ‘Are you after an apology?’

  ‘Would I get one?’

  ‘Not this time.’

  Kit grinned that heart-fluttering grin of his and her stomach flipped in a way she didn’t like at all. ‘Didn’t think so,’ he murmured.

  ‘Couldn’t you have waited until I got back? I haven’t had a holiday in years.’

  ‘Patience isn’t one of my strong points.’

  ‘No.’ She paused and then gave it one last futile, she suspected, shot. ‘Is there anything at all I can do to make you go away?’

  ‘Not a thing.’

  No, she hadn’t thought so. Lily sighed and resigned herself to the inevitable. ‘OK, fine. You win. But I’m not dressed for a chat.’ She certainly wasn’t ready.

  He ran his gaze over her, so slowly and thoroughly that she felt as if he’d stripped her bare. ‘You look fine to me,’ he said, a little hoarsely she thought, ‘but perhaps you’re right. Maybe this isn’t the time or the place.’

  Never and nowhere would be the right time and place in her opinion, but what could she do? On an island this size she’d never be able to avoid him, and hopping on the next available boat to the mainland wasn’t the answer because not only was running away immature, as Kit had just proved, he’d simply come in search of her.

  Anyway, it would probably be fine. All they were going to do was talk, and talking never killed anyone, did it?

  Besides, on one of the extremely rare occasions that Kit had flitted into her head over the last week she’d reflected that she’d been wrong when on her doorstep a week ago she’d told him they’d never been able to talk. Communication between the two of them had always been fine when there wasn’t much of import to communicate. The problems had only arisen when the stakes had been stratospheric, when emotions had run high and they’d felt exposed and vulnerable. It was then that they’d both gone into hiding and communication had become a four-letter word.

  Tonight there wouldn’t be anything at stake. Kit might make her feel a bit on edge, and, God, he looked mouth-wateringly, spine-tinglingly hot in the white polo shirt, khaki shorts combination he was currently wearing, but she wasn’t emotionally involved. Not now.

  And, actually, if he wanted to rake through the ashes of their relationship, that was fine with her because there were things she needed to tell him. Things she’d come to realise over the last five years. Things that she wanted to get off her chest and he ought to know.

  She was much stronger than she’d been all those years ago, and wi
th the exception of the wobble she’d had on New Year’s Eve, which had merely been down to shock anyway, he didn’t have the ability to hurt her any more.

  Therefore, if she was well prepared and stayed focused conversation with Kit would be fine. Cathartic even. ‘Shall we have dinner?’

  ‘The restaurant?’

  Of course the restaurant; no way was she inviting him to her villa for room service. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Eight o’clock?’

  Three hours in which to decide her strategy? Three hours in which to don her suit of armour? Or, despite her brave thoughts just now, three hours in which to get completely and utterly hammered? Whichever route she chose to take three hours was perfect.

  Draining the rest of her margarita and ignoring the small bundle of nerves beginning to twist her stomach, Lily nodded coolly. ‘Eight o’clock it is.’

  *

  The terrace where dining took place was everything that could be expected of a luxury four-figure-a-night five-star resort on an island off the coast of Mozambique. Lanterns sat on the edge of the decking, the candles within flickering in the twilight. Tables set with starched white tablecloths, silver cutlery and fine crystal dotted the terrace and the beach. Soft, sultry music drifted from behind the bar into the warm evening air.

  Nature lent quite a hand to the feeling of sensuality too. The sea rushed up the sand with a gentle swish and then rolled back. The heady scent of lady of the night drifted through the warm evening air. The palm trees that surrounded the restaurant rustled in the breeze and cicadas chirped in the undergrowth.

  Utterly oblivious to the considerable charms of the establishment, however, was Kit, who was standing at the bar and frowning down at his beer as he experienced a rare yet all-consuming moment of self-doubt.

  Heading over here had seemed such a good idea last week when he’d put his plans into place. Fired up on adrenalin and the thrill of the chase, and practically burning up with the idea of a second chance with Lily, he’d had his secretary make the travel arrangements while he’d issued instructions to his management team. He’d found himself looking forward to seeing her again and the challenges he knew he could expect. He’d been looking forward to getting everything off his chest and persuading her to give them another shot. More than looking forward to it, if he was being honest.