Ooh...horrible plan!
‘I’ve talked Mia into spending not just the evening with us, but the rest of the afternoon as well. So you’ll need to take her home to collect her things. Thierry and I will meet you by the pool at four.’
With a perfumed air-kiss, Carla dashed out. Mia didn’t know where to look. She glanced at her feet, at the window, at the bar.
‘Would you like a drink?’
She glanced at his glass, still three-quarters full, and with a sigh slid onto the bar stool beside his. ‘Do you think they’d make me a cup of tea?’
‘I’m sure of it. English Breakfast, Earl Grey or Chamomile?’
‘Earl Grey, please.’
He ordered the tea and without further ado asked, ‘What’s wrong?’
Straight to the heart of the matter. It shouldn’t surprise her.
‘Are you feeling awkward after the words we exchanged on Tuesday evening?’
She wished she could say no, but that lie wouldn’t be lily-white.
‘Aren’t you?’
She doubted she’d ever have the power to hurt him, but she had disappointed him. She suspected women rarely turned Dylan down.
For heaven’s sake, why would they? You must be crazy!
‘Mia, you’ve every right to speak your mind. I might not like what you have to say, but there’s no law that says you have to say things with the sole purpose of pleasing me. The only person you need to please is yourself.’
Did he mean that?
‘I came on unnecessarily strong. I was upset...and I was prepared to throw our agreed ground rules out of the window.’ He dragged a hand down his face. ‘I’m sorry. You were right to hold firm.’
Her heart had no right to grow so heavy at his words.
‘I know a relationship between us wouldn’t work. And you’ve made it clear that a fling is out of the question.’ He wrapped both hands around his beer. ‘The thing is, I like you. It’s as simple and as complicated as that.’
Her eyes burned.
‘I’m sorry.’ He grimaced. ‘Can we be friends again?’
She managed a nod.
They were quiet while the barmen slid her tea in front of her. When she glanced back to him he sent her a half-grin. ‘How did you enjoy the treatments?’
‘Oh, I...’ She hesitated too long. ‘It was lovely.’ She scrambled. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re lying!’
She debated with herself for a moment and then nodded. ‘I hated it.’
His brows drew down low over his eyes, fire sparking in their depths. ‘Was anybody rude or unpleasant...or worse?’
‘No!’ Before she could stop herself she reached out and touched his arm, wanting to dispel his dark suspicions. ‘Everyone was attentive and professional. I couldn’t fault anyone. It was me—not them. I just... I just don’t like being touched by people I don’t know.’
She closed her eyes and pulled in a breath. He must think her a freak.
When she opened them she found him staring down at her, his lips rueful. ‘I’m sorry. It seems I’m constantly forcing you to do things you hate.’
She waved that away. ‘It’s not important. It’s all in a good cause.’
‘It does matter.’
‘Let’s talk about Carla and—’
‘No.’
Mia blinked.
‘Let me apologise. I’m sorry I took it for granted that you’d enjoy a spa day.’
‘The majority of women would.’
‘You’re not the majority of women.’
That was true, but if she dwelled on that fact for too long she might throw up.
‘Apology accepted.’
He sat back and she found she could breathe again. He had the oddest effect on her—she simultaneously wanted to push him away and pull him closer.
Maybe this time it wouldn’t be like it was with Johnnie.
Maybe. Maybe not. But even if Dylan were willing she had no intention of finding out. She couldn’t risk it.
She pushed those thoughts firmly out of her mind. ‘Now, can we talk about Carla?’
He grinned. ‘Absolutely.’
Despite her confusion she found herself smiling back. ‘That was the one good thing about today. I enjoy spending time with her. She’s good company.’
‘Did she confide anything in you?’
Mia poured herself some tea and stared down into the dark liquid. ‘She’s totally in love with Thierry. Even if he is all your worst fears rolled into one, I can’t see how you’ll be able to stop this wedding.’
He dragged a hand down his face and her heart went out to him.
‘But on the plus side...’
He glanced up, his eyes keen. ‘Yes?’
How to put this delicately...? ‘I’ve had some close experience with women who’ve been in emotionally and physically abusive relationships.’
His eyes went dark. ‘How close?’
She knew what he wanted to know—if she’d ever been in an abusive relationship. She sidestepped the unspoken question. ‘My father was abusive to my mother.’
‘Physically?’
‘Not quite.’ Though that latent threat had hung over every fraught confrontation. ‘But he was emotionally abusive until I don’t think she had any sense of self left.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel sorry for me. I’m telling you because I don’t see any of the same signs in Carla that I saw in my mother. Carla is neither meek nor diffident. She’s kind and easy-going, and I suspect she’s peace-loving, but I wouldn’t describe her as submissive or compliant. I don’t think she’s afraid of Thierry’s displeasure.’
‘Changes like the ones you describe in your mother—they don’t happen overnight. They’re the result of years of abuse.’
He had a point.
‘There are men out there who prey on emotionally vulnerable women.’
He didn’t need to tell her that. ‘You think Carla is emotionally vulnerable because of what happened between her boyfriend and her best friend?’
He ran a finger through the condensation on his glass of beer. ‘It’s one of the reasons. She was only sixteen when our parents died. It was a very difficult time for her.’
‘I expect it was a difficult time for you too. How old were you?’
‘Twenty-one.’
Twenty-one and alone with a sixteen-year-old sister. Mia swallowed. ‘It must’ve been devastating for you both. I’m sorry.’
He looked haggard for a moment. ‘It was tough for a while.’
Understatement, much?
‘And then there’s the Fairweather name...’
She shook her head, not knowing what he meant.
‘It’s