Love Beat (17 page)

At that moment my phone vibrates.

Oh no
.

I stare at it, my heart sinking. After a long moment I take a deep breath and dial. “Mel? I’ve just had a message from home. Yes, it’s—the usual. I have to go. I’m so sorry.” I stare at the phone as emotion wells up, making it impossible to speak for a moment.

I don’t need this. Not now
.

I take a deep breath and lift the phone again. “Mel? Still there? Yes, I’ll be fine. Can you explain to the others? Thanks. You’re an angel. And please,
please
, don’t do anything until I get back—about the diversion, I mean.”

It’s the best I can do.

Now life has to go on hold.

* * * *

Ten minutes later, I’ve ransacked my room for my bag and jacket, and I’m headed for the main door. Luckily there’s no sign of Cade. An encounter with him at this point would make things far too complicated.

But how to get out of here? Security’s everywhere, the gates kept locked. The place bristles with hidden cameras, tracking every doorway, every exit. What keeps the paparazzi firmly out keeps all the rest of us firmly in.

Cade will be alerted instantly if I try to leave. But if I slip out now, there’s an outside chance I can get back before he finds out I’ve been away

It’s a long shot, but I’ll have to try.

At that moment I hear a commotion in the entrance area. Garth Delaney is leaving. A fleet of cars has drawn up to the entrance to convey him and his entourage of agents, spokespeople and image consultants away to the capital.

Inspiration strikes.

“Mr. Delaney?” I approach him with a bright smile. “Any chance I could ride with you as far as the main road? I need to go over a couple of things from Mel’s interview…”

* * * *

Some hours later I’m staring at my phone, my heart close to breaking, as yet another text from Cade lights up on the display. He’s been calling and texting constantly.

Where are you? CALL ME.

I lean back with a weary sigh as the taxi winds deep into the country lanes and I switch off my phone. It’s cruel, but it can’t be helped…

“This as far as you want to go, lady?” As the cab driver eyes me in the driving mirror, I snap back to the present with a jerk. For the last hour or so I was happily lost in memories of last night. Now dream time’s over.

I’m back in real life.
My
life.

It’s been a long, fraught journey and it’s a while since I’ve made it. Long ago I promised always to heed the call whatever time of day or night and to make the journey as fast as I could.

I’ve never regretted it once—until today.

It comes at the worst possible time. I’m right in the middle of an important job, I’m leaving my friends in danger of losing theirs and, worst of all, I’m turning my back on something new in my life, something entirely unexpected.

Maybe my strange relationship with Cade Fitzlean will never come to anything. Maybe to him I’m nothing special, just one of a thousand women, one in a million pleasures that his looks and his wealth can buy.

Now I’ll never know.

I never thought this promise, made with so little thought so long ago, would cost me so much.

In the back of the taxi I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’m here now. I know what’s waiting and I dread what I’ll find. But it has to be done.

Life’s a bitch.

“Thanks. This is fine. How much do I owe you?”

Chapter Thirteen

An hour or so later, there’s a loud banging at the door. In the chaotic kitchen, the two people I’ve come to see look pale and drawn in the glare from the overhead lighting.

The knock startles us all. For an instant, I see them in freeze-frame. One is my father, his old familiar self, apart from a new and unfamiliar patch of wet all down his shirt.

The other is Janice, my stepmother. She’s distraught, her hair, normally smooth and elegant, a spiky mess. Her face is tearstained and distorted.

We’ve got potato peelings in our hair.

She’s screaming.

I look at my father, willing him to stay where he is. “Don’t answer the door, Dad, please.”

He shuffles past me. In a sudden dash, I get there before him.

As I open it just a crack, it’s suddenly wrenched from my grasp and flung wide. I clap my hand to my mouth. “
Cade
? How did you get here?”

He’s staring at me, his eyes wild. Behind him I see the headlights of more than one car and figures on the path. One is his driver. Another is silhouetted in the blaze of the headlights.

“
What’s going on
?”

“Go away. You can’t come in.” I might as well push back a hurricane. He’s already striding into the kitchen.

My parents stare as he enters—over six feet of rugged, masculine willpower—and glares at them. The screams stop mid-flow.

In the sudden silence, his deep voice rings out, making us all jump. “Where’s her medication? Somebody fetch it.”

It’s like watching something happen in slow motion. He takes charge with quiet command, taking the pills from my father’s shaking hands and passing them to the white-coated figure he’s brought with him. As I shrink back against the wall, bewildered, a paramedic drapes a blanket round the distraught Janice and gently leads her out to an ambulance. Dad follows. Cade gives a quiet instruction to the driver to take them both to their regular clinic.

It’s all happened so fast and so smoothly that I can barely register he’s here.

Now we’re alone.

He turns to me, his face gaunt, takes me over to the sink and gently picks the peelings out of my hair. “Did she attack you?”

At last I find my voice. “She objected to the way I cut up the potatoes. But…how did you know? And how did you find us?”

He sighs wearily and sinks into a chair. “Jake Simmons, your so-called boyfriend. He told me everything.”

He passes a hand over his eyes. “Any chance of a coffee?”

“
Jake
told you?” I stare at him. I’ve known Jake for years. I trust him. It’s impossible.

But then, so is the sight of Cade Fitzlean—handsome multimillionaire, legend—actually sitting
here
, in my parents’ kitchen.

He looks weary but he’s wrought magic. My parents are safe, my stepmother calm. All because he turned up when he did.

But to accuse
Jake…
“He’d never do that.”

Cade stiffens. “So I’m a liar now? Thanks.” His voice is dangerously soft, his look pure steel. “Why did you switch off your cell phone?”

“Don’t change the subject. We’re talking about Jake.”

“No. We’ll talk about you.” For a second the steel flashes white-hot. “We had an agreement. Today you broke it several times over. You should have said you had commitments. You should have told me where you were going. And you should at the very least have answered my calls.”

He glares at me. “You will never,
ever,
do that again. Understand? Anything might have happened. Paparazzi, kidnapping—reporters are desperate to know what’s going on at the Hall. Why do you think we went to town on security?”

His rage fuels mine. I resist the urge to shout back. “Cade, with respect, this is a private matter.”

His eyes blaze. “So is our arrangement. While you’re my sub, you’re in my care. I have to know everything—where you go, who you see, when you eat.”

I give a weary sigh. “When she’s really bad, I have to get here fast. The others are used to it. I just did what I always do. I hadn’t told you because her attacks are quite rare now. I didn’t expect one this particular week. I’m sorry. Does that satisfy you? Now, please go away and leave me in peace.”

“
No
.” The cups on the draining board rattle. “I’m staying here, and I’m taking you back. Where’s that coffee?”

* * * *

“So what did Jake tell you?” I glare at him.

It’s late now and we’re eyeing each other over empty coffee mugs, two empty glasses and a half-finished bottle of wine. We’ve been talking so long that I’ve lost track of time.

But it’s only a lull in the storm. I want answers. “What did he say
exactly
?”

His jaw stiffens. “When I heard you’d gone, I tried to call you. Then I sent security after you. Nobody saw you leave. Nera saw you with Macallan but when I asked, she denied it point blank. Then Simmons told me where you’d be. He said—and I quote—‘I should know just what sort of people I was mixing with’.”

“He said
what
?”

“His exact words. So you’ve told him about us?” His tone slices through me.

“No. I told no one. I hardly see them, remember? You’ve done everything you can to keep us apart.” I sound sharper than I mean to.

My mind races.
Have
I given something away? “Maybe he guessed after that business at the gorge. Or maybe…”

“What? Tell me.” His voice is low, his tone sharp.

I feel myself color. “I was just thinking… Anyone who’d seen us dance together might…guess.”

When we dance, I simply melt into his arms. We move together as one. At least, that’s how it feels. Maybe that’s how it looks.

I start to clear away the things, avoiding his eye.

As I lean over to pick up his cup and his wine glass, he grips my wrist. “So why did you tell him and not me?”

“I’ve told no one.” I pause and lean against the sink. “He’s always known about Janice. His family lives nearby. We’re practically neighbors.”

He eyes me steadily. “He’s hot for you. And he seems to know a lot about her condition. Is he unstable too?”

Poor Jake. I take his part, as always. “He’s…creative. He just gets excited. That’s all.”

To my relief, Cade changes tack.

“Your stepmother’s always been like this?”

“Only when she forgets her pills.” I unclench my fingers. “Very few people know. Look, I’d sooner keep this private. I don’t want my parents pestered by reporters. Dad has a tough enough time as it is.”

“But your colleagues know?”

“They cover for me when I have to come home. But I can’t believe Jake said that.” I put my head in my hands. It’s been a long day.

He frowns, his voice gentle. “Hey, easy. Maybe he was just worried about you. I sure as hell was.”

For a fleeting moment I feel a surge of joy at the thought that he’s missed me then it instantly fades.

I’m just an investment. He wants me back on track. Our documentary’s going to be one massive promotional ad for his launch, and I’m the main theme.

He needs me commercially. That’s all. I feel bitterness well up. “Yeah. Sure you were.”

I glance round at the untidy room, avoiding his dark, steady gaze. I’m too tired to argue. “Shall I fix you some food?”

With a glance at his watch, he gets to his feet. “My driver’s booked us into a local hotel. He’s waiting outside. I’ll bring you back here in the morning. Unless you want join your parents at the clinic right away?”

I let out a slow breath. “Thanks, but Dad likes to settle her in quietly. I’ll call them tomorrow. I’ll stay here. I’m fine on my own. You don’t have to…”

I look down at my hands. They’re shaking, and I feel a sudden urge to cry.

There’s a movement in the air around me and all at once I’m in his arms, my head pressed against the soft leather of his jacket, his hand warm against my hair. “Hey, you’re exhausted. When did you eat last?” He tilts up my chin with one hand and scans my face, his eyes hot with concern.

“I don’t know. Last night, I think.” Something inside me begins to melt and the tears prickle again. This time there’s no stopping them.

“You’re coming with me. My driver will come back here to keep an eye on the place tonight and take any messages.” He releases my chin and, after a second, passes me a spotless, neatly folded handkerchief. “Dry your eyes. Let’s wrap ourselves round a stiff drink. I know I could do with one. Then we’ll get some food into you.”

* * * *

The hotel is on the outskirts of the town, set some way back from the road in woodland. As the car purrs to a halt, spotlights gleam on old wooden timbers, pitched roofs and hanging baskets full of flowers.

As we check in, I remember someone might recognize me and rummage quickly in my bag for a ponytail band and sunglasses.

But the receptionist has eyes only for Cade and seems to lose all coordination, turning bright red as she passes him the register to sign. “You’re booked into our best suite, Mr.”—she glances at the register—“Mr. Mason. I’ll take you up myself. This way.”

Our suite’s much smaller than our lavish quarters at the Hall but bright and comfortable. There’s a sitting room, a traditional four-poster in the bedroom, flowers in bowls and a modern, gleaming bathroom.

While I freshen up, I hear Cade on the phone to reception ordering food. As I emerge, he’s peeling off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. As he catches sight of me, he flings himself back on the bed and holds out his arms.

“Come here.”

I frown as I join him. “You ordered already? Do I get to choose what to eat?”

He pushes a stray tendril of hair away from my forehead. “No. I’ll choose. And if you don’t like it, you can go without. You’ve been enough trouble for one day.”

He touches his lips to my face. “And here’s that drink.” He passes me a gin and tonic from the minibar, and we touch glasses and sip.

Just then a thought strikes me. “Wait—there’s Nera. She knows. She had a go at me this morning.”

He sits bolt upright, his drink forgotten. “She
what
?”

“She tried to warn me off you. So why is it so wrong for Jake to know and okay for Nera? What is it between you two?”

“It’s okay for Nera because I trust her.”

“And not me?”

His jaw tenses. “What do you think?” At that moment our meal arrives. The waiters clatter about for a few moments setting up crystal and silverware. They leave the food under domed silver covers, along with a large bowl of cherries and a bucket of ice, cradling a bottle of champagne, and silently withdraw.