Dark Blue: Study in Seduction, Book 1 (26 page)

“I can’t quite believe it. Do you think there’s been some kind of mistake?”

“No, I don’t. What am I going to do with you? You look like you’ve just been sent down rather than got one of the best Firsts in the university. You do know you’ve won the dissertation prize too, don’t you? That means you get a scholarship for next year.”

“What?”

Emma took her arm and tutted. “I give up! Come on, Mrs. Jonas, what you need is to get out of the house. A bunch of us have got a picnic and fizz in the Parks, if you’ll associate with plebs like me who only got a Second. Mind you, considering I’ve spent most of this term shagging my favourite hot undergraduate, I haven’t done too badly.”

Carla laughed, hugged Emma and summoned up an appearance of enthusiasm for the picnic. She didn’t want to burst her friend’s bubble, and getting the First was amazing. She wondered what Alex would say. He was in college now, probably poring over the list, preparing congratulations for those who’d achieved their aims and comfort for those who hadn’t. He would probably call her any moment. She should want to run to him now and share her brilliant news.

She knew she wouldn’t.

Since she had confronted Alex that day at La Bastide, he had slowly ebbed away from her. Gaby had left, so they at least had the relief of not having to meet. In confessing his secrets, Alex had withdrawn a part of himself. He’d been gentle with her, affectionate even, and they’d made love a few times in their final few days at the house, but it had all been vanilla, bland, as if the colour and life had been sucked out of both of them. Gaby was right. Once he’d been forced to face up to his past, Alex had had to confront the future too, and he couldn’t see her in it.

Her phone rang as she finished her second glass of fizz. It was Alex.

“Have to take this,” she said, abandoning her glass on the grass and wandering out of earshot of the other students.

Two minutes later, she’d scooped her stuff from the grass and made her apologies to her friends. Alex had congratulated her and asked to see her. He’d said it could wait until she was finished at the picnic, even if any appetite she’d had for food or celebrating had gone. This was it. Now was the time to do the brave thing. End it before he did and walk away with her head high and a broken heart. It was all she had left.

She’d dreaded him waiting for her with flowers and champagne, but he wasn’t. That was something. He opened the door, bare-chested and barefoot, looking so gorgeous, and it took every ounce of her courage to step inside. His lips were warm against hers as he kissed her.

“You’ve done amazingly well,” he said as she followed him into the sitting room and sat down on the couch. It was a warm day, but she wanted to wrap her arms around herself.

She summoned up a smile. “I hoped I might get a reasonable second, but I never expected a First.”

“I did. You worked incredibly hard, and you deserve every bit of your success. You’ve even got a scholarship out of that dissertation.”

“Only because you pushed me so hard. I should thank you.”

“No, don’t, please, because I really don’t deserve to be thanked by you. I think we both know that.”

He sounded so proud of her, Carla could hardly bear the pain of what she had to do. She stared at the oak floor, the grain blurring as the tears filled her eyes. “Alex, we can’t carry on like this. Your studies, my job, the notes—it’s all wrong.”

He didn’t deny that statement. She hadn’t expected him to, and yet his silence made her heart sink like a stone.

“Why do you think this is wrong?” he asked.

“Because you don’t feel the same way about me as I do about you.”

“And how do you feel?”

“I love you. You must know that by now…but I don’t think you feel the same way I do.”

He shook his head and spoke gently. “You’re wrong. I do love you, but I know that’s not enough for you. You need more.”

“More than love? Like what?”

“Like commitment, children. I can’t give you those while you’re my student.”

“What if I wasn’t your student?” she shot back.

“What the hell do you mean?” His voice was harsher now.

“I could switch colleges or leave Oxford.” Even as she said it, she knew it was a crazy idea, but she wanted to provoke him into finally admitting his feelings. Anything, however mad it seemed, would do if it made Alex admit his true feelings.

He pulled her against his chest. “You fucking well won’t. Give up your career here for me? I’m not worth it, not by a long way. I’m not husband-and-father material. I should have made that clear from the start instead of leading you along like this, but I thought we could deceive ourselves.”

She gazed up at him, drinking in the warmth and scent of his body, knowing it would be the last time she ever got this close to him. “And you don’t want to even try to think longer term?”

“I could try, yes, and I could probably fuck it up for both of us, the same way I have fucked up before, with Lori and with Deanna and with any other woman I’ve thought I could make happy. You deserve a man you can always rely on and make a future with, and I’m not sure I can be him.”

“Is it because I asked you about Lori in France?”

He released his grip on her and shoved both hands through his hair, almost tearing at his scalp. Carla could see he was struggling with his emotions, hating having to expose his raw feelings to her.

 
“No… Oh fuck, yes, in a way. It made me realise that I can’t give you normality, like Stephen.”

“I don’t want what he gave me, because in the end, it was false. And I’m not Mrs. Jonas anymore. I’m me, Carla. I love you, and I don’t want anyone else. I know I came here to end things between us and give you a way out, but I’ll be killing myself forever if I’m not honest now. You would be wonderful as a father, and yes, I do want that with you—one day. One day when I’ve finished my degree and we’re both ready. But you won’t even take the chance to find out if we could work. You’re running away before we’ve really even started, because you’re afraid of not being perfect.”

Carla’s words slammed into Alex’s heart so hard he thought it might stop.
Don’t love me
, he wanted to shout.
Don’t, because I don’t deserve it from you because…

Because what?

He was headed towards his late thirties; he’d tried love and no commitment with Lori, and just commitment with Deanna—and neither with the handful of women he’d met over the years. Now he had Carla, who offered him love, commitment and a willingness to share his deepest fears and desires.

She was perfect.

And that was why he couldn’t risk hurting her.

“Carla, I am in love with you. You’re beautiful, fearless and sexy beyond belief, and I know I should beg you to stay with me, but I’m not ready.” He captured her hands in his, desperate for her to understand him—but how could she when he didn’t really understand himself?

“Not ready for love?”

“To be loved by you. Not yet.”
 

She shoved him away from her. “I don’t understand you, Alex!”

“I don’t understand myself. Give me time. We haven’t known each other that long.”

The tremor in her words held every ounce of pent-up disappointment. “So, Professor Lemaitre, do you have any other clichés for me?”

Only one cliché, he thought as she walked out of his house. One that he dared not tell her. That he was afraid of just how much he loved her, that it had rushed upon him like a whirlwind, knocked him over, and he was still reeling. That he, the great mind, the supreme analyser and controller, the burned, hurt boy and the man, was too afraid to give in to it.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Hello, dear, nice to have you home.”

“Hello, Mum. Dad.”

Carla kissed her parents as they arrived at her house in Kingsfield a few days later. Her tenant, Yoav, had moved on, and another was due to move in once she’d gone back to Oxford. The house needed freshening up and minor stuff fixing. If only the wreckage that was her heart could be mended so easily. She bit her lip and smiled.

Her mother frowned at her. “You look even thinner than before, and there are whopping circles under your eyes.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

“Sorry, dear, I’m only trying to look after my daughter. What on earth did you get up to in France with those friends of yours? Have you been worrying about the new term at college? I don’t know why, after you won that scholarship. I told Gillian about it, you know. I wanted to put an ad in the local paper, but your father said you’d be embarrassed, didn’t you?”

“I would have been very embarrassed, but thanks for the congrats, and the flowers are lovely.” The large bunch of lilies, roses and gypsophila filled her arms and the room with fragrance.
 

“We’re very proud of you. No one deserves this more than you. Stephen would be amazed,” said her mother

Her father put his hand on Carla’s arm. “I’m sure he would.”

 
Carla clicked her tongue in mock admonition while tears rose in her eyes. “Let me find a vase for these flowers, and we’ll have a cup of tea.”

In the utility room, she dug out her largest vase from under the sink unit, recognising it as a wedding gift from one of Stephen’s parents. She snipped the stems from the flowers while her mother made tea in the kitchen, determined she would not cry in front of her parents. She’d done enough of that over the years, and any tears falling would not be for Stephen or for her parents’ pride in her achievements, but for Alex. They still didn’t know about her affair with him or that her heart had been ripped out for the second time in her life.

“Kettle’s boiled. I’ve made a big pot.” Her mother’s voice echoed in the kitchen.

“Okay. Nearly done. I’m coming.” Carla popped the flowers into the vase, trying and failing to find the motivation to arrange them properly.

Part of her longed to let her feelings out and have the comfort of her parents’ arms around her, just as she had on the night the police had called to tell her about Stephen’s accident. She’d wanted that same solace of uncomplicated loving the afternoon she’d discovered the letters and photographs in Stephen’s briefcase, but she’d been too shocked to seek it—and later, too ashamed and frightened.

It struck her that while she wasn’t the one who’d deceived her family and friends over the years about Stephen’s infidelity, Carla had continued it. Now she was doing it again, by hiding her affair and breakup with Alex. Was that what real love was? Swallowing down some of life’s crueller truths in order to spare pain to those you truly loved?

Or was it just being cruel to them and you?

Her mother stood in the door from the utility room to the kitchen, tea cloth in hand. “Have you finished? Tea’s ready to pour. I know you don’t like it brewed. Oh, those flowers look gorgeous. I wanted you to have something special to celebrate your exams. You see…” Her mother’s eyes glistened with moisture.

Carla gripped the vase in both hands, fighting not to blurt out everything—Stephen, Alex—as her mother continued.

“I know we thought that it was a bit out of character of you to give up your job and go off to university. I know I might have said as much. Now I realise that it was the right thing for you. Keep at it, Carla. We’ve seen you shine these past few months, even if we’ve been worried about how hard you’ve been working. This is your time. Enjoy it.”

Her parents stayed a couple of hours while her dad helped her fix a leaky tap. Although Carla didn’t really need his help, she wanted him to feel useful, and she needed his sheer physical proximity. Her mother fussed about, washing up and hoovering things that were already clean. Carla loved them fiercely for their concern and their help. God knew they’d been what kept her alive after Stephen had died, but if there was one thing she needed even more right now, it was peace and quiet.

She needed to cry herself out so she could emerge back into the world with a smile and a brave face—and in a week or so, go back to college. She’d thought of trying to transfer to another college and quickly realised it was way too late in the vacation for that, and she’d have to give good reasons for doing so. She just couldn’t think of any that wouldn’t involve an in-depth interrogation. So she had no choice. She had to face up to seeing Alex for tutorials and hope to avoid him the rest of the time. She had to hope that her feelings for him would fade in time, like the pain of losing Stephen had.

Losing Alex wasn’t the same as losing Stephen. It hadn’t brought the despair that drove out every other feeling—the black pit of realisation that the person you loved most had gone forever and would never ever come back. It was a different pain. Knowing the very different, unique and special man she loved now was living, breathing and so very close, if he could only love her back.

There was hope, and that was both a blessing and a curse, because all she could do was wait and see if he would return to her and give the whole of Alex. The trouble was, she could wait a lifetime.

Outside the sports centre, Rana opened the boot of his SUV as Alex zipped up his leather jacket.

“See you for another game next week, Alex, or will you be too busy terrifying the new intake of reshers to play squash?”