Was he waiting for someone to call or message him? A woman perhaps? She closed her eyes, dread forming in the pit of her stomach. She had spent most of the summer before she had started secondary school alone and isolated, having been dumped from her friendship group because they were going to a different school to her. One evening she had heard beeping and located its source to an unfamiliar phone she had found in her dad’s jacket pocket. Confused, she had brought it into the kitchen, asking him if he had bought a new phone and why there were so many messages from one of her mum’s close friends.
Her mum had cried. Her dad had yelled. And Alice had soaked up the way her dad had twisted the blame onto her, telling her that it was she who was responsible for her mum’s devastation.
The lies people told. The games they played. And the self-destruct buttons they so easily pressed. And here she was, a perfect case in point. Instead of coming to her senses and counting her blessings that she hadn’t slept with Luis earlier she was actually even more attracted to him than ever. Not only was she constantly reliving in her head the feel of his mouth on her breast, the magic of his fingers, the waves of bliss that had whipped through her body, but hearing him talk so sensitively about lovemaking, hearing the passion and sincerity in his voice, the way his gaze darkened when he had said that he had never desired anyone more than her, had her completely spellbound. And this afternoon, as she had watched him so effortlessly freestyle snowboard, the way he so patiently lifted her up time and time again after her disastrous attempts to stand upright, never mind actually snowboard, he had got even further under her skin.
She shifted in her seat and pressed a hand on her burning cheeks. And groaned as her glute muscles screamed in protest.
‘Are you ok?’ Luis asked.
She nodded but grimaced as she attempted to manoeuvre herself into a comfortable position and admitted, ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. They might have to carry me onto the plane.’
He smiled but didn’t say anything. Wood crackled in the fireplace. Tomorrow they would be saying goodbye. It was for the best. She had to get back to work, and Luis to Monrosa.
His phone pinged. She jumped at the sudden noise. He grabbed hold of the phone and smiled as he hit play on the video message he had been sent, a chorus of voices wishing him a happy Christmas from the Bahamas. But then with a sigh he put the phone back down on the velvet armrest of his chair.
‘It wasn’t the message you’ve been waiting for all evening?’
He frowned at her question but then shrugged.
It was none of her business but suddenly she really, really wanted to know whose message or call he was waiting for. She opened her mouth, looking for a subtle way of phrasing her question but quickly abandoned that search, the memory of her dad’s phone burning in her soul.
‘She must be pretty special to warrant how distracted you have been all evening.’
Closing his book and placing it on the coffee table, he sat back in his chair and studied her.
She blinked at the open way he considered her, as though he was trying to find the solution to a particularly difficult puzzle. ‘If there were another woman in my life I wouldn’t have kissed you the way I did this morning. I’m not that type of man.’ He said it with such a softly spoken seriousness that for a moment she almost believed him, but then all her doubts and mistrust, driven by how raw and vulnerable she felt after their intimacy earlier, made her ask, ‘Well, who are you waiting for, then?’
‘You don’t believe anything I say, do you?’
The disappointment in his voice made her wince but something deep inside her wanted to push him. She wanted to know that everything he had said to her earlier that day about why he wouldn’t sleep with her was a lie. She was just a convenient distraction.
He wasn’t really attracted to her. Did he think she was going to fall for all that baloney he had spun her? ‘I know first-hand the signs of a man having an affair.’
‘How can I be having an affair when we’re not in a relationship?’ he asked.
She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her swiftly. Why on earth had she so clumsily accused him of being involved with someone else? ‘You know what I mean. I’d hate to think that there’s a woman out there being hurt right now and that I have something to do with it. My dad had an affair and it nearly destroyed my mum.’
She waited for him to respond, a fire in her wanting to get things out in the open. With a start she realised she wanted a fight. She never wanted to fight. She hated confrontation. But here she was, deliberately antagonising him, wanting to push him further and further. Wanting to see the real man. Would he flip like her dad? Would she get to see the real man—the anger, the denials, the manipulation?
She jumped out of her seat. ‘See, this is why I hate Christmas. Everything goes wrong.’
Standing up, he stabbed some numbers into his phone, his mouth a tight grimace, and handed the phone to her. ‘Feel free to check through all of my messages. Maybe then you’ll believe me.’
She took the phone and stared at it, the fire inside her dying, to be replaced by shame. Handing the phone back to him, she could barely meet his stare. ‘I’m sorry...that was uncalled for.’
He said nothing.
Embarrassment made her throat close over. She walked over to the fireplace, studied the photos there of a young Luis and his family on skiing trips, looking so incredibly happy, Luis always standing at his dad’s side, more often than not pulling a goofy pose.
She closed her eyes. And said with her back still to him, ‘I’m scared of being hurt.’ Turning, she studied him. ‘It’s easier to assume the worst in people rather than to be let down.’
‘That’s an unfair way to approach life...not just for the other people involved but also for yourself. You’re pushing away good people because of the few and you’re robbing yourself of a full life.’
She wanted to look away, she wanted to walk away from the truth in his words, but, pulling in a breath, she said, ‘But it will keep me safe.’
There it was again, that sad, disappointed look of his that cut her to the quick.
‘People need to be believed in.’
She shrugged. ‘I’m not sure it’s something that I can ever do—truly believe in everything that another person says.’
He walked over to her. ‘Do you believe in what you say yourself, Alice? Maybe you should start there?’
She laughed. Not understanding his point. But then she stopped and stepped away from him. Her past insistence that she was content in her life, that she wasn’t lonely, ringing hollow. She picked up a photo from the mantelpiece. ‘Your mum was incredibly beautiful, and you look so like your dad when he was a younger man.’
He stared at the photo. ‘I hadn’t seen it before but there is a resemblance... It was my father I was waiting to hear from. I told Edwin earlier that I was delaying my return to Monrosa until the thirtieth. Apparently, my father is furious that I’ve cancelled my return yet again.’ Flipping a switch on the wall, throwing the entire room into darkness with the exception of the light from the fire and the Christmas tree, he went to the terrace doors and, opening one, stepped outside. ‘Come and see the stars.’
She stood at the doorway and shuddered. ‘It’s bitterly cold.’
He gave no response but instead, grabbing hold of a shovel hidden in an outside alcove, dug a path in the snow out to the terrace’s balustrade. Path cleared, he turned and answered, ‘Magic only happens when we take risks.’
She rolled her eyes but took a few steps out onto the terrace. She shivered fiercely but then laughed, the shock of the cold, the endless stars overhead, invigorating and magical.
She wrapped her arms around herself, dancing on the balls of her feet to stay warm. ‘Why have you delayed returning to Monrosa?’
His concentration fixed on stargazing, he answered, �
��Because I’m hoping to persuade you to stay here with me for a few more days and then travel to the New Year’s Eve ball in Monrosa with me.’
‘What? Are you kidding me?’ Her voice echoed down the valley. Was he serious? She gave him a disbelieving look. He shrugged. Shrugged! After landing that bombshell on her.
‘I’m going back to London tomorrow.’
‘Aren’t you enjoying it here?’
Thrown, she paused. ‘Yes... No... That’s not the point.’
‘Another few days and you’ll master snowboarding.’
‘Oh, please, we both know that is never going to happen—I’m way too uncoordinated.’
‘If you allow yourself another few days of forgetting about your thesis, I’ll guarantee that in the New Year you’ll have the energy to tackle it again.’ His eyes dancing, his voice dropping to a husky timbre, he added, ‘And I’m more than happy to keep you distracted until then...in whatever way you’d like.’
She paused from crazily hopping from one foot to the other. Her eyes widened, her cheeks grew hot. He smiled, remembering this morning, remembering her falling apart in his arms. Sleeping together might be out of the question but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t find fun in other ways.
She frowned. ‘Hold on. Are you claiming to be staying here entirely for my benefit?’ Not waiting for him to respond, she added, ‘I’m calling you out on that. My guess is that you don’t want to go back to Monrosa and I’m an excuse for you not doing so.’
She was wrong. Well, sort of. He did think staying here would benefit her. The tiredness beneath her eyes was vanishing. The tension, the preoccupation, the distractedness he had seen in her in London were all fading away too. ‘Perhaps it’s the right decision for both of us right now.’
She let out an impatient breath that came out like a frosted cloud from her mouth. ‘Will you stop twisting things and tell me straight why you want to stay here for another few days?’
That was a good question, given the conversation they’d just had—her mistrust, her prickly, guarded suspicion should have had him happily waving goodbye to her tomorrow. But he got why she was so wary of trusting him. Yes, it frustrated him, even hurt him, but there was so much more to Alice than the cynical wariness she had developed no doubt thanks to her father’s behaviour. He enjoyed her company, her intelligence, her rawness, the way she challenged him. The chemistry they shared felt like a life force separate from them as individuals. None of it made sense. But he wasn’t ready for it to end...just yet.
‘Okay, so maybe I’m not ready to go back to Monrosa. There’s no rush—it’s not as if I won’t be spending the rest of my life on that island.’
Stamping her feet, she said, ‘You make it sound like a prison sentence.’ Then with a deep shudder she added, ‘It’s way too cold out here.’
He followed her back inside and as he closed the door Alice asked, ‘What is it about Monrosa that makes you so reluctant to go back there? I know there’s the tension with your dad, but it has to be the most beautiful place I have ever visited. Endless sunshine, a rich and fascinating history, incredible beaches and food, and the warmest of people.’
He placed a log on the fire. ‘Which is not something that can be said of my father.’ He went and sat in the chair he had earlier been seated on. Instead of curling back into her space in the corner of the sofa, Alice sat on the footstool in front of him. She was wearing her black leather mini-skirt again, this time with a soft cream polo-neck jumper and black high heels. She pulled the sleeves of the jumper down over her hands and inched the footstool closer to the fire. He should switch the lights back on, but he liked how the flames of the fire flickered warm light across her face, dancing over the swell of her lips and the prominence of her cheekbones. She smiled at him, a hesitant smile but her eyes held his, an understanding, a recognition, making his heart stumble over in his chest.
‘I spoke to your father at Kara’s wedding. I liked him. He’s blunt. But I prefer that to insincerity and lies.’
‘You liked him? All my other friends are terrified of him. They try to be polite about it, but I see them slinking out of his way.’
‘You know how sometimes you meet someone in life, and you click for some reason, and, as strange as it might sound, I felt that with your dad.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s because we both use defensiveness to protect ourselves.’
‘I would class my father’s approach as attack rather than defence.’
‘I know things must have been hard... I’ve been through it with my own dad. Ultimately I had to decide whether to keep working at our relationship or to break all ties. I know that’s probably not an option available to you because of your roles and responsibilities, but maybe you need to redefine your expectations of what your father can give you. It may not be what you want and need, but at least you won’t be constantly disappointed and hurt. That’s what I found the hardest with my dad, the rollercoaster of hoping and expecting something from him, only to be let down.’
‘Why should I have to adjust—why should I have to deal with his constant criticism?’
She shrugged. ‘If you try to understand why he’s so critical it might help you deal with his behaviour. After all, he must be hurting somehow to act this way.’
He sat back in his chair, knowing she was right. But trying to understand his father could mean having to let go of years of anger and frustration on his part. And perhaps even forgiving his father for the isolation and humiliation he had wrought on him. A forgiveness he wasn’t sure he was capable of.
‘There’s more to your reluctance to return to the island than your dad though, isn’t there?’
He shook his head. ‘No.’
Shifting in her seat, her gaze holding his, she softly said, ‘Last year I went back to the town where I grew up. I hadn’t been there since my parents separated. I actually felt physically sick. I hadn’t expected it, but seeing the town triggered huge panic in me. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.’
Luis understood. He didn’t experience panic, but he was always cranky and defensive while in Monrosa.
‘What one word would you use about how you feel about Monrosa?’
He stared at her, undone by the gentleness in her voice, undone by the wave of grief he didn’t even know he held on to. ‘Sadness.’
‘Because of your mum?’
He closed his eyes, suddenly wanting a drink. Or any other distraction that would serve to get him out of this conversation. He never, ever spoke to anyone about any of this. ‘Every time I see the Monrosian coastline as we fly in, for a moment I think my mother will be there. That I will get to hug her again.’ He swallowed, a barrel of emotion, of loss and regrets, sitting on his chest. ‘I think that I’ll be able to tell her one more time how much I love her.’ He tried to stop there but it was as though the emotional break he usually had so firmly in place was out of action in the face of Alice’s steady gaze. ‘For those few moments I don’t feel quite so alone.’
She tilted her head, smiled so kindly at him that he was forced to blink hard as tears stung the backs of his eyes. ‘I had always thought you were the least alone person on this earth,’ she said.
He threw his head back, running a hand through his hair. ‘I spend my days trying not to be.’
‘Do you like yourself, Luis?’
He shook his head. ‘That’s way too deep for me.’
She edged ever closer, her knees touching his, a playful smile on her lips. ‘Now, don’t go telling this to anyone, but I like you. In fact, I think you’re pretty incredible. Yes, you need to stop and draw a breath every now and again. And find happiness within yourself. But I know that you’re going to go on from here and be a force of good in this world. You have a unique opportunity and position of influence, a unique personality full of energy and optimism. The world needs good guys like you more than ever before.’
His heart turned inside out at her words. She really believed in him. He grinned, trying to regain control of his emotions. ‘You’re not expecting a lot from me, are you?’
‘Nothing that you aren’t capable of. Look at the courage and determination it took for you to win the World Series. I reckon you’re capable of doing anything you put your mind to.’
‘It’s easy when you are in a job you love, with a clear goal in sight and surrounded by a brilliant team.’
She shrugged. ‘Surround yourself with a new team. I get that transitioning from one life to another is hard, but take time out to understand what it is you actually want to achieve in life.’
What did he want in life? In his twenties he had thrown himself into anything that gave him an adrenaline rush and got him away from Monrosa. And anything that antagonised his father. He grimaced, knowing he had to accept some of the responsibility for his dysfunctional relationship with his father. ‘Do you have what you want in life worked out?’
‘Kind of. I know I want to create a love for history in students. I have some ideas on writing accessible historical fiction for teenagers focused on real-life events. So often, the way history is taught, teenagers can’t relate to it. We can learn so much by the mistakes past generations have made. It frustrates me to see us make the same mistakes time and time again, more often than not allowing fear and ignorance, a narrow world view, to guide our decisions.’
He smiled at the passion in her voice. ‘So why are you struggling with your PhD?’
She sighed. ‘Good question. I guess that for so long my life has been predictable. I like that order. It makes me feel safe. When I finish my PhD I don’t know what my life will look like, what changes I’ll have to make.’
‘So, I’m heading towards a life filled with structure and protocol and you’re heading into uncertainty—the complete opposites of one another and what neither of us want.’
Christmas Encounter with a Prince Page 11