Season of Desire: Complete Edition (35 page)

‘I feel so safe with you.’ I gaze up at him, hoping to convey the things I dare not say to him.

The expression in his eyes changes again, and I see a glimpse of that awful sadness, darkening his eyes like a cloud blocking out the sunshine.

‘What is it?’ I beg, feeling as though I’ve blundered somehow. ‘What have I said?’

He looks away. ‘Nothing. Nothing. Really.’ He gazes back and I can see he’s made an effort to put whatever it is out of his mind. ‘Freya, I’ve been a coward. I’ve been putting off talking about this with you because I’ve enjoyed our lost weekend so much.’

Oh no!
My heart begins to pound and a sick feeling makes my hands clammy.

‘But . . .’ He stands up. ‘I don’t plan to work for your father any more.’

‘What?’ I jump to my feet. ‘Why not?’

‘Because he’s lost his trust in me. I can see that. He and Pierre suspect me somehow, even though there’s no proof and no reason to. Now that you’ve explained what happened in the past, and the fact you were once betrayed by a guard, I can see where your father’s coming from. But the years have made him paranoid, and Pierre isn’t helping matters. He seems just as crazily suspicious – his job depends on it, I think. Pierre gets paid extremely well for reflecting back your father’s fears and, of course, making sure none of them are ever realised.’ Miles sighs and walks over to the fireplace where the hearth is now cold, scattered with the black ashes that are all that remains of the burning fire of last night. He picks up a poker and stirs them, but they remain cold and dead.

‘This is ridiculous,’ I say urgently. ‘Of course you must come back. They’ll soon realise they’ve been mistaken. I’ll tell my father and he’ll understand. I was there when we crashed, I know how it happened and it’s mad to think you could have somehow staged it. What do they think you hoped to gain out of it?’

He turns and looks at me with a long, penetrating stare and then says, ‘You. You, of course, Freya.’

‘Me?’ I blink at him, stunned.

‘Yes. You were out of his control for a couple of days while we were lost. Have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?’

I shake my head, still taking in what he said.

‘It’s when someone is kidnapped, and they end up forming a relationship with their kidnappers, espousing their cause and turning to their side. Sometimes they can even end up falling in love.’

I feel a violent blush explode over my cheeks and I say, ‘That’s ridiculous.’

Miles doesn’t seem to notice my scarlet face but says, ‘They might think that a version of that has happened to you. They may even doubt there was a crash at all. They might think I pushed the car over the cliff and took you to the hut to brainwash you there, so that you’d back up my version of the story.’

‘But why? Why would you brainwash me?’

He smiles and says, ‘I love the way you can’t think of a reason. Why would a man want to brainwash a woman like you?’

My heart sinks as I realise that, of course, it all comes back to the same thing: money.
My father’s fortune. The whole reason I lost my mother, why I live in fear of my life, why people blackmail me and ruin my relationships . . .

‘That’s right,’ Miles says softly, seeing the expression on my face. ‘Money. That’s what they think I want.’

‘But . . .’ I sigh hopelessly, looking around the room as though there is an answer hidden there. ‘I know that’s not true! I can tell them!’

‘The more you try to tell them, the less they’ll believe you and the worse it will look for me. Why would you go to such lengths to protect a bodyguard, considering the way you usually treat the staff? They’ll look on that as proof of my guilt and decide that I’ve got to you somehow and I’m using you for my own ends.’ He walks towards me, his eyes tender again in that way that makes my stomach melt and my knees go weak. His nearness is enough to drive me mad with longing. ‘And you see . . .’ He puts out his arms and I fall into them with something like relief. ‘They’re not entirely wrong, are they?’

‘What do you mean?’ I say into his jacket, inhaling the masculine smell of the leather.

‘Well – look at us. Here we are.’ He smiles down at me. ‘What would they think if they could see this?’

‘But I made you do it!’ I say hotly. ‘It was all my idea – you would never have done anything if I hadn’t suggested it – and even then, you didn’t want to go against your ethics.’

He laughs. ‘If you told them that, they’d simply think I was even cleverer than they thought – managing to make you think that
you
engineered what
I
wanted. Sweetheart, you’re young and they’ll think that makes you impressionable, someone who doesn’t know her own mind. You told me about that boyfriend . . .’

‘Jacob,’ I supply.

‘Yeah – you said that you found out he slept around and cheated on you. Does your father know about that?’

I nod slowly.

‘Unfair as it may seem, that will help him come to the conclusion that your judgement may be a little immature.’

I feel caught in a whirl of frustration. I’m trapped – I can’t help my father change his mind about Miles because one way or another, I’ll always confirm his suspicions. ‘They
are
wrong, though! What do you mean by saying that they aren’t?’

He blinks and gives me that beautiful half smile of his. ‘Because of this. Because of what we’ve been doing together.’

‘It’s not wrong!’ I say in a choked voice. I can feel those damned tears stinging thickly behind my lids. ‘We’re two adults! Why can’t we make our own choices? Do what we want?’

He strokes my hair again. I love it when he does that, feeling the heavy comforting weight of his hand touching me so softly. I always feel calmer inside.

‘I wish it were that easy,’ he says huskily. ‘And perhaps it might be if you weren’t Miss Freya Hammond. But you are.’

‘I don’t want to be!’ I say, turning my face back into his chest so that my voice is muffled by his jacket. ‘I’ll give it all up if I have to.’

‘We both know you can’t walk out of your life.’ His arms wrap round me. ‘No one can. It always comes to get you in the end.’

‘Please, Miles, please . . . Please don’t leave your job right now. I can’t bear it! After everything that’s happened – the accident, the way I’ve talked about the past – I can’t take it if you go right now!’ I start to shake. I’d hardly realised how strongly I feel about it but now I know for sure that I can’t stand it if he goes. ‘It isn’t about the lessons, or having sex with you – I mean, of course, those things are glorious and I don’t want to stop – but it’s more than that! I . . . need you.’ I lift my face from his jacket and gaze up at him, my eyes damp with unshed tears. ‘Don’t go yet, I beg you. Stay a bit longer, until I’m feeling more stable. Please!’

He gazes down at me and I can read conflicting emotions in his eyes. Somewhere a little voice is whispering to me:
if he loved you, he’d stay without question. And look at him! He clearly doesn’t want to.

Then he frowns and groans. ‘Oh God, Freya Hammond, you put me in a quandary, you really do. Every instinct in me is telling me to shake the dust of your family’s house off my feet. And I’ve learned to trust my instincts. And what’s more . . .’ His face contorts in an agonised expression as though painful thoughts are crossing his mind. I wait to hear what it might be that makes him feel that way, but he just sighs a short sharp sigh of exasperation and says, ‘You’re a lady who’s difficult to resist, do you know that?’

A wave of hope rushes over me. ‘Am I?’

He nods. ‘But listen: if I come back to your father’s place, there has to be a condition.’

‘Of course,’ I say breathlessly. Anything to make him stay. ‘What is it?’

Miles raises one eyebrow at me. ‘No sex.’

I gasp. ‘What?’

‘Not at your father’s house. I can’t have us creeping about, having sex in secret and hoping no one notices. For one thing, they will, and for another, it’s not my style. On Hammond premises, we keep our distance, all right?’

‘Oh my goodness!’ I groan. ‘That will
not
be easy . . .’

‘Maybe not – but those are my terms. Understand?’

I nod. Just having him near will be worth the tantalising prospect of having to hide my desire for him. And besides, my heart sings with the implication that we will be having sex somewhere that isn’t my father’s house.
So he must want this to continue!
‘Okay. I accept the condition. Yes. No sex under my father’s roof.’ I laugh lightly. ‘It sounds so weird.’

There’s the roar of an engine as a car comes down the drive and halts in front of the chalet.

‘I expect that’s your ride,’ Miles says drily. ‘To take you to catch your private flight.’

‘I wish I was coming with you,’ I say wistfully.

‘On a public plane? You’ll be more comfortable your way.’ He drops his mouth on mine and kisses me, softly at first and then with gathering passion. He pulls away and gazes at me, his blue eyes intense. ‘Thank you for everything, Winter. These two days have been heaven. You were my goddess. I mean that.’

‘Thank you,’ I whisper, longing to know more about how he feels. ‘I’ve loved it.’

I want to say ‘you’ – I’ve loved you . . . no, I
love
you . . . but I can’t. I’m too afraid.

The raucous noise of a horn sounding from the car below breaks the atmosphere.

‘I’ll see you back at the house,’ he murmurs. ‘Now – you’d better go.’

For the return flight, I keep my eyes closed and listen to the music that plays through my headphones. I’m listening to melancholy love songs that sum up my mood. I don’t even know if I should be happy or sad. Am I at the start of a relationship, or at the end of it? Does Miles feel anything for me other than lust, or does the spirit of his dead girlfriend, whoever she is, stand between us, keeping us permanently apart? I have no idea, and the very fact of that is exhausting. If only I knew what I should feel! I end up veering between sadness at our parting and joy at the memories of what we’ve shared, and a vague formless fear of those unknowns that threaten to keep us separated forever.

One of my father’s regular bodyguards is waiting with a car for me at the heliport, and before long I’m on the familiar route home. It already feels as though my reunion with Miles was a lifetime ago.

As I exit the lift and walk into the hall, Jane-Elizabeth comes out of the main sitting room to meet me.

‘They said you were here!’ she beams as I walk through the hall. She holds out her arms for a hug. ‘How are you, sweetie? Recovered a bit? Did you have fun with Lola?’

I nod. I don’t want to lie to Jane-Elizabeth, but I can hardly tell her the truth – she’d be honour bound to pass it on to my father and besides, I don’t think she would understand. Miles’s explanation of how everyone would think he had somehow brainwashed me is still ringing in my ears. I don’t want to risk his position any more than I have to.

‘And are you feeling better?’ persists Jane-Elizabeth, standing back to get a good look at me. ‘You do look much better, I must say. Fresher. There’s a light in your eyes. You two girls must have thoroughly enjoyed that spa. What was it called? Perhaps I should go there myself!’

I freeze, then turn away, flicking through a pile of unopened mail on the hall table to gain some time. ‘Er . . . it was called the . . . the . . .’ My mind is a blank. ‘I really can’t remember. I’ll ask Lola to send me the details.’

‘Yes, do,’ Jane-Elizabeth says cheerfully. She doesn’t seem to suspect a thing, which makes me feel dreadful. I’ve never lied to her before but what can I do?

‘Are the twins here?’ I ask, to change the subject.

Jane-Elizabeth shakes her head. ‘Flora’s gone back to Paris. Her acting course starts soon.’

‘Oh yes.’ I’d forgotten that Flora has decided that she’s going to make a go of an acting career. She has the talent if her appearances in college plays were anything to go by, but I know that our father is against the idea. ‘And Summer?’

‘She’s gone on a skiing vacation with one of her friends. She’ll be back at the end of the week.’

So I’m alone in the house, apart from my father and Jane-Elizabeth.
And Estella
.
I mustn’t forget her.
My heart sinks. I feel as though there is nothing to look forward to. What am I going to do with my life? Before there was Miles, I was about to jet off to LA for fun with Jimmy, but what was I going to do after that? What real plans did I have?

None. Nothing. I’m wasting my time. At least Flora has an ambition and is doing something about it. What am I going to do?

A picture suddenly floats into my mind, and I recall the way that Dominic and Beth looked at each other that night at the schloss. Their love gave their life a meaning and I suddenly wish more than anything that I could know what it was like to have someone love me as thoroughly as Dominic loves Beth.

Miles.

His name echoes through my mind like a sigh. I suddenly wish I could see Beth again, so that I could talk to her, confide in her, ask her advice. She’s the only person I know, apart from Dominic, who knows Miles, properly, as a friend.