‘I haven’t had painted toenails since I was fifteen or sixteen...and the pedicurist has made them look so pretty.’
They were a shiny fairy-floss pink...and totally kissable.
‘I think I’ll sit here and admire them too. They’re too cute for words.’
She laughed, and something inside him soared.
‘I’ve had a really nice afternoon, Dylan. I just wanted to say thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. I’m hoping the fun continues well into the evening.’
She glanced across at Carla and Thierry, sitting at a table on the other side of the pool, a giant umbrella casting them in shade. ‘Thierry seems a bit more relaxed today. Maybe pool volleyball is the secret to his soul.’
He found himself strangely reluctant to focus on the other couple’s real or imagined issues at the moment. ‘Would you like to see the Jason Gilmore?’ At her frown he added, ‘You remember. The photographer Felipe scoffed at?’
She hesitated, and then gestured out in front of her. ‘Can it compete with this?’
He stared out at the view spread before them and then rested his hands back behind his head. ‘Nothing can compete with this view.’
And it was all the better too for having Mia’s toes in the foreground.
‘You have a pool that looks like it belongs in a resort.’
The pool was long enough for laps, curving at one end to form a lagoon, with an island in the middle—a handy spot for resting drinks and nibbles. There was an infinity edge that had utterly bewitched Mia when she’d first seen it.
He nodded. The pool was amazing. ‘But even better is the view beyond it.’
The Fairweather mansion sat on a headland, and the forest leading down the cliff obscured the beach below, but the Pacific Ocean was spread out before them in all its sapphire glory. Waves crashed against rocky outcrops and the spray lifted up into the air in a spectacular display of the ocean’s power. It was elemental, primal and magnificent.
‘We’re incredibly lucky to live here.’
‘You are,’ she said, but her voice lacked any resentment. She glanced across at him. ‘I suspect you work very hard for your luck.’
He gestured to the pool and the house. ‘We inherited this from our parents.’
She gazed at him, her eyes moss-dark. ‘And yet I bet you’d give it all up to spend just one more day with them.’
Her words hit him squarely in the secret, private part of himself that he let no one but Carla see. If only he could see his father again and ask his advice about how best to deal with his uncle. If only he could sit down with his mother and ask her how he could best support Carla. To have the chance to simply hug them one more time...share a meal with them...laugh with them. His chest burned with the ache of their absence.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.’
He pushed himself out of his grief. ‘Not sad.’
She shot him a tiny smile. ‘You’re a dreadful liar, Dylan.’
For some reason that made him laugh. ‘I miss them. I don’t know what else to say.’
‘You don’t have to say anything.’
With Mia he felt that might indeed be true.
‘Is this photograph of yours in your bedroom?’
He stared at her, and a grin built through him. ‘Did you think I was trying to whisk you away under false pretences?’
She pointed a finger at him, her lips twitching. ‘I’m on to your tricks. You are not to be trusted.’
‘Ah, but do you want me to be trustworthy?’ He seized her finger and kissed it.
She sucked in a breath, her eyes widening, and it was all he could do not to lean across and kiss her for real.
If he kissed her now, she’d run.
And he was starting to realise that he’d do just about anything to make her stay. He had no idea what that meant.
‘However, in this instance, madam, I’m being eminently trustworthy. The photo hangs in the formal lounge.’
She glanced at her toes, the view, and then at him. ‘In that case I should like to see it.’
He rose, holding out his hand to her. She hesitated for a beat before putting her hand in his and letting him help her to her feet. He laced his fingers through hers, intent on holding on for as long as she’d let him.
‘Why do you keep it in the formal lounge rather than the living area?’
‘You’ll understand when you see it.’
She left her hand in his and it felt like a victory.
* * *
The moment Mia clapped eyes on the photograph she understood why Dylan didn’t keep it in the more informal living areas. Even distracted as she was by Dylan’s touch, his fingers laced casually through hers as if he was used to holding hands with a woman, the power of the photograph beat at her.
In her entire life she’d only ever held hands with three men—her father, when she’d been very small, Johnnie, when she’d been very stupid, and now Dylan.
You’re no longer either very young or very stupid.
She wasn’t convinced about the latter.
She tugged her hand from his to take a step closer to the picture and he let her go—easily and smoothly.
‘It’s...awe-inspiring.’
She wasn’t sure she’d be able to live with it every day. It was so powerful. She wasn’t even sure where the power came from...
On the surface it seemed a simple landscape—a preternaturally still ocean with not a single wave ruffling its surface. In the foreground crouched a grassy headland, with every blade of grass as still as the water—unruffled by even the tiniest of breezes. But storm clouds hung low over the ocean, turning the water a menacing monochrome. Behind the photographer, though, the sun shone fierce, piercing the picture with a powerful light, making each blade of grass stand out in brilliant green relief. The contrast—so odd and so true—held her captive.
‘What do you think?’
She had to swallow before she could speak. ‘Your Mr Gilmore has caught that exact moment before a storm hits—before the wind rushes through and the clouds cover the sun. It’s...it’s the deep breath. It’s like a duel between light and dark, good and evil.’
He moved to stand beside her. ‘I feel that too.’
‘And you know that in this instance the dark is going to win...’
‘But?’
‘But I can’t help feeling it’s not going to prevail—the dark is only temporary. Once the storm has worn itself out the sun will reign supreme again.’
They stood in silence and stared at it. Mia stiffened.
‘It’s about grief and hope,’ she blurted out, unable to stop herself. ‘It makes me feel sad and hopeful, and happy...and incredibly grateful, all at the same time.’
She turned to him and found all her emotions reflected in his face.
He nodded. ‘I know.’
‘It’s the most amazing picture I’ve ever seen.’
‘It’s the second most amazing one I’ve seen.’
She’d started to turn towards the photo again, but at his words she turned