The Most Expensive Night of Her Life

by Amy Andrews

  She felt absurd tears prick the backs of her eyes as she tried to grapple with what that must mean to a person. How would she like to go through her life never being able to be physically intimate?

  Blake saw the shine in her eyes as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of caramel hair that had fallen forward behind Ava’s ear and he gave her a gentle smile.

  His Ava was surprisingly mushy on the inside.

  His Ava. The thought was equal parts terrifying and tantalising.

  ‘It made me rethink my attitude, that’s for sure. I mean, there I was, essentially fully functional, while some guys...they’re never going to be fully functional. At least I could still have sex. Still...’ he looked into Ava’s yellow-green eyes shining with compassion ‘...make love to a woman.’

  Ava’s heart felt like a boulder in her chest. She shifted, moved over him until she was lying on top of him, her forehead pressed into his neck, his heartbeat loud in her ear. His arms wrapped around her body and a tear slid out of her eye.

  After a few moments she raised her head to look down at him. ‘Make love to me,’ she whispered.

  Blake lifted his head and kissed her. He should say no. They weren’t supposed to be dragging this impossible thing out. But he couldn’t. He wanted to do exactly as she’d asked.

  So he rolled her over and made love like there was no tomorrow.

  * * *

  Ava felt a lot more sombre the next morning as he saw her off the boat. The plight of the soldier he’d told her about last night had wormed its way under her skin and she held him a little longer, kissed him a little deeper. Usually Blake stayed inside the warmth of the boat as she exited but it was as if he could sense her sadness, and even though he was only in his boxer briefs and T-shirt he climbed out with her and held her for as long as she needed.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked as she finally pulled away.

  She very nearly confessed then and there, but she felt absurdly close to tears again and she doubted she could get it out without being a big snotty mess and she had a magazine shoot to get to in just over an hour.

  She gave him a small smile and a nod. And even though she knew she shouldn’t ask she said, ‘See you tonight?’

  He kissed her. And even though he knew he shouldn’t agree, that they should be ending this, he said, ‘Tonight.’

  * * *

  But by two o’clock in the afternoon everything had changed.

  Blake was at work when he got the first inkling of the storm that was about to take over his life. He was at his desk when he looked up to see Joanna and Charlie approaching and his keen sense of doom kicked into overdrive.

  They pulled up in front of his desk looking like they did that day a few years ago they’d called by the boat together—a united front—ready for an intervention. ‘What?’ he asked warily.

  Joanna fiddled with his stapler. ‘I’ve just seen you on the telly.’

  Blake frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘On the news. Pictures of you,’ she clarified. ‘And Ava. On the boat.’

  Blake’s frown deepened. ‘During my holiday?’ he asked.

  ‘Umm...no,’ Joanna said, putting his stapler down and picking up a ruler, tapping it lightly on his desk. ‘Apparently they were...taken this morning.’

  Charlie folded his arms across his chest and eyeballed his brother. ‘You are shagging her.’

  Joanna dug Charlie hard in the ribs and he grabbed his side.

  Blake stood as his mind went back to this morning. To kissing her goodbye out in the open. Not that he’d been looking, but he certainly hadn’t noticed a clutch of paps. Maybe someone on a neighbouring boat recognised her and decided to make a quid or two?

  ‘What kind of pictures?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m-shagging-Ava-Kelly pictures,’ Charlie said. ‘Or at least that’s what your hand on her arse and your tongue down her throat says to me.’

  ‘I mean do they look clear? Are they professional or amateur?’

  ‘You can tell it’s you and her very clearly,’ Charlie said. ‘But it looks like they were taken from a distance, like you see in all those magazines, with a telephoto lens or something.’

  Blake plopped back onto his chair. Photographers had been staking out his boat? Had they followed her or had someone tipped them off?

  The very thought gave him the creeps.

  ‘What did they say about the pictures?’ he asked.

  ‘They were wondering who you are and if you were Ava’s latest,’ Joanna said, still tapping the ruler. ‘If you were the friend she’d hidden away with for that week she’d dropped out...stuff like that.’

  Blake didn’t know how to feel about the news except for the fact that it probably made it easier to make the break they should have made a fortnight ago.

  Which should have made him relieved.

  It didn’t.

  ‘Oh, well, I guess it pays to be nobody, huh?’ he dismissed absently.

  Joanne and Charlie looked at each other and Blake’s skin prickled with unease. The tapping of the ruler got louder and Blake snatched it out of Joanna’s hand. ‘Just say it,’ he said.

  ‘They’re already speculating about...your leg,’ she said.

  Blake frowned. His leg? Of course...his boxers this morning would have been no match for a telephoto lens. ‘Must be a slow news day. I’m sure everyone will move on soon.’

  He sure hoped so because the idea of a lens trained on his boat was a little too reminiscent of a rifle sight for his liking.

  Joanna shook her head. ‘The pictures are practically going viral online and on social media,’ she said, her voice doubtful. ‘The British press are still all dying to know where Ava went for that week... The whole thing with Grady Hamm has caused a huge stir, Blake. Combine that with the pretty intense interest her love life has always roused and I don’t know that this is going to blow over so soon.’

  Blake’s phone rang. ‘It’s Ava,’ he said as he answered the call.

  ‘There’s photos of us on the news.’

  Blake almost laughed at her panicked opener. No preamble—just straight to the point. ‘Yes. I know.’

  ‘I’m so, so sorry. They must have followed me.’

  Blake shrugged. ‘Yeh, but I’m not anybody so...I’m sure it’ll all blow over.’

  Her groan was Blake’s first indication that he might be underestimating the situation. ‘Blake...they’re going to know who you are within hours. Their editors are going to want to know every single thing about you and I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s in all the evening papers. There’s probably someone going through your rubbish right now.’

  Blake laughed. ‘Why would they want to go through my rubbish?’

  ‘Because your hand is on my arse,’ she said testily. ‘And they don’t know who you are, which is driving them crazy. It’s only going to be a matter of time before one of them realises you’re the guy who was at my place for three months.’

  Blake couldn’t believe they’d be interested in a guy like him. ‘And when they do they’ll find there’s nothing very exciting about me at all and they’ll move on.’

  ‘Oh, Blake. You don’t know how intrusive this is... How could you?’

  Her tone was hopeless and he started to worry. For her. ‘I’m a big boy, Ava. I’m sure I’ll cope.’

  ‘I don’t think you should go to the boat tonight.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think they’ll be waiting for you. They’re kind of persistent.’

  And then it really dawned on him what she was saying. ‘So...you’re not coming tonight?’

  ‘No.’

  Blake tried to rein in his disappointment. A part of him could see it was a good thing—something they should have done a fortnight ago—but part of him didn’t
want to let go either.

  ‘You know if you didn’t want to come...if you wanted it over, you could just say.’

  ‘Blake...no.’ Her voice was instantly dismissive and he believed her. ‘Trust me, you’re not going to want me where they’ll be. Maybe we can meet somewhere else. A hotel, maybe?’

  ‘A hotel?’ Blake couldn’t believe what she was saying. ‘You want a place that charges by the hour or do you prefer your usual suite?’

  ‘Blake...please...I’m just trying to save you from this. It’s probably going to get ugly.’

  Blake snorted. As if he cared about ugly. It sounded like she was more interested in saving herself and her rep to him.

  Fine by him.

  He should never have let it get this far anyway. ‘Well, you do what you’ve got to do,’ he said tersely and hung up.

  He looked at Joanna and Charlie, who had clearly been listening. ‘What are you going to do?’ Joanna asked.

  Blake rolled his eyes. ‘I’m going to finish up here for the day, then I’m going to go home.’

  Charlie and Joanna exchanged looks and Blake resolutely ignored them.

  * * *

  By nightfall, Blake had changed his tune. The evening papers were full of his arse grope and when he was heading down the walkway to his boat’s permanent mooring it was surrounded by paps. A few months back he wouldn’t have known a paparazzo if he’d fallen over one—now he was all too familiar with them.

  He’d backed away and ended up at Charlie’s place with Joanna flicking between news stations.

  Ava rang and texted several times but Blake, feeling grimmer and grimmer as the night progressed, did not feel like talking. By the time he’d bunked down on the couch the press knew his name, rank and serial number. By the time he woke in the morning they knew a lot more than that.

  Charlie had got up early to buy all the tabloids and it was clear no part of Blake’s life had been considered sacred.

  Ava had been right—he’d had no idea how voracious the press could be. His army record was there for anyone, anywhere to read. His tours, the units he’d served with, the explosion and his subsequent amputation with a close-up of his prosthesis.

  One paper exploited his military record with the headline—Ava’s Crippled War Hero. Another took a different tack with—The Carpenter and the Lady. They’d got comments from his neighbours, people he used to serve with and clients he’d worked with.

  But the hardest thing of all was the big splash about his commendation. His act of heroism was recounted in all its trumped-up glory. Blake felt ill. The news was making him out to be some kind of Second Coming and all he could see was Pete dying in the back of a military ambulance. Colin, lying dead in the dirt while he cried out in pain.

  So many men dead and permanently maimed and this...crap was all they cared about?

  How would the men he’d served with, men who were still serving, still putting themselves on the line, feel about all this?

  He was so angry he wanted to smash things with his bare hands. Angry about frivolous ‘news’ and first-world privilege, but mostly about confirming something he’d always known deep down—he couldn’t live like this. Under constant scrutiny.

  Ava and he were worlds apart and they never should have crossed the divide.

  This was his worst-case scenario and he was living it.

  His life was under the magnifying glass along with the lives of everyone he’d ever touched. People who’d never asked for this.

  These last two weeks had been some of the happiest of his life. But this...nightmare was the flipside.

  ‘Blake?’ Joanna squeezed his shoulder and handed him a coffee. He took it and scooted over so she could sit beside him. ‘They’re not lying, Blake. I know you find this hard to take, but what you did does make you a hero to a lot of people.’

  ‘Do you think Colin would say that?’ he demanded and hated that he’d made her flinch.

  Joanna recovered quickly and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Colin would say it most of all.’ She squeezed his knee. ‘You were always his hero. He looked up to you. He was proud to serve with you. But you know what, Blake? He would have done it anyway. With or without you. What happened to him could have happened at any time.’

  Blake shut his eyes against the way out in words. It could have-but it didn’t. It happened on his watch.

  A knock interrupted them. ‘That’ll be Ava,’ Joanna announced, pushing herself up.

  Blake almost choked on his first sip of coffee. ‘And how does Ava know I’m here?’

  ‘I told her, stooped.’ Joanna grinned. ‘She’s my new best friend, didn’t you know? Besties tell each other everything.’

  ‘Joanna.’ His voice held a warning.

  ‘You have to talk to her, Blake. She’s worried about you.’

  ‘It’s not going to work out between us, Joanna, so you can just stop planning the hen night.’

  Joanna shook her head. ‘Well, then, you’re an idiot. She’s the best thing that ever happened to you, Blake.’

  FOURTEEN

  Blake opened his mouth to rebuff Joanna but she was already heading towards the door and before he knew it Ava was standing in front of him and he was standing too.

  She was wearing what appeared to be a very expensive, very glittery tracksuit, her hair up in a ponytail.

  And she looked as if she hadn’t slept a wink either.

  She took a step towards him but his, ‘I hope no paps followed you because I do not want Charlie and Trudy embroiled in this circus,’ stopped her in her tracks.

  Ava sucked in a breath against the hostility in his tone. It was as if the last five and a half months hadn’t happened at all and they were back at square one.

  ‘I know a thing or two about shaking the press,’ she said tersely.

  Blake snorted. ‘Apparently not enough.’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ she sighed. ‘I never wanted this to happen.’

  ‘And yet here we are.’

  Ava shoved her hands into her pockets. Her fingers were freezing and it didn’t have much to do with the cold November morning. ‘Reggie’s working on it,’ she said. ‘We can fix it. We can salvage it. I’m going to put out a statement.’

  ‘Saying what?’ he demanded.

  Ava took a deep breath. Time to lay her cards on the table. She hadn’t wanted it to be like this but fate had forced her hand. ‘Well, we could deny it. Say that we’re just friends. Or...we could say that our relationship is new and we’d like privacy while we explore it.’

  Blake blinked. What the? ‘So I can be your bit of rough?’ he snapped. ‘The carpenter to your lady? Or some...pity-screw to make the crippled war hero feel better about himself?’

  Ava shut her eyes against the ugliness of the headlines he’d just thrown in her face and the contempt in his voice. He had every right to be angry. Tears built behind her lids but she forced them back. His life had been turned upside down because of her—it wasn’t the time for stupid girly tears.

  ‘I’m sorry about what they’re saying,’ she said, opening her eyes. ‘About what they’ve revealed. If I could turn back the clock, believe me, Blake, I would. But I’m not sorry you’re being recognised for what you did. You deserve those accolades.’

  Blake shook his head. She didn’t get it. She really didn’t get it. The men who’d died, who were still fighting—they were the ones who deserved the accolades.

  ‘Pete died, Ava. I don’t want his family reading all about the hero who didn’t quite manage to save their loved one in the newspapers, dragging up all their grief again. Thinking I’m using his death as some cheap publicity stunt to pull a supermodel.’

  Ava felt the cold from outside seep inside her at his suggestion. Surely no one would think that?

 
‘Don’t you think it’s hard enough for them this time of year, with Christmas around the corner?’

  Ava felt helpless. She was used to this level of intrusion from the press, immune to it in a lot of ways, but she still remembered how shocking it had been in the beginning.

  ‘I’m sorry for them that it’s being dragged up,’ she murmured. ‘But I for one think heroism should be celebrated. Too often we celebrate beauty and money and power and yet there are guys like you, defending the free world. I think we should recognise heroes more often.’

  Blake ran a hand through his hair. ‘You don’t get it,’ he said bitterly. ‘I don’t want to be a hero, Ava. Men are still over there. Others are dead.’

  Sometimes, when he woke in the middle of night, the guilt over that was more than he could bear. He looked over her shoulder and caught Joanna’s eye before returning his gaze to Ava.

  ‘I’m not going to cash in on their accolades.’

  Ava felt almost paralysed by the hard line of rejection running through his voice. He hadn’t even been this harsh with her in the beginning and her pulse hammered a frantic beat against her wrist.

  She didn’t want to lose him. She couldn’t.

  ‘Fine. What about just being my hero, then?’

  Ava moved in closer until there was just a coffee table separating them. She knew if she didn’t say it now she never would. And maybe if she’d said it earlier they wouldn’t be where they were. ‘I love you.’

  It took Blake a few seconds to compute the revelation. And even then it was too hard to wrap his head around. ‘What?’ he spluttered. Love? That was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. ‘I thought this was just...a fling, a...casual thing.’

  Ava put her hand on her hip, her fingers digging in hard at his rejection, at his trivialisation of her love. She’d never told any man she loved him before and it felt like a knife to the heart to be so summarily dismissed.

  ‘Really? Is that what you thought?’ she asked scathingly.

  This was a lot more than a casual fling between them and they both knew it.

  ‘Really?’ she repeated. ‘All those things we’ve been through, all those nights lying in bed talking and talking and talking? That was just casual?’