She said, stumbling a little, ‘Are you angry with me?’
‘No,’ he said gently. ‘Why would I be? I want you very much, Tarn, but it has to be mutual.’ He added ruefully, ‘And for a few moments there, I thought it was.’
‘It was.’ Her voice shook. ‘It is. You must believe that.’ She hesitated. ‘It’s just—being here—in your flat. I don’t know how to explain.’ She swallowed. ‘I can only say that it has—connections that I can’t forget—and never will.’
Ask me, she thought. Ask me exactly what I mean and I’ll tell you, so that I can put a stop to the whole thing once and for all. Because I can’t bear to go on like this. It’s ripping me in pieces.
‘Ah.’ He was silent for a moment, then sighed. ‘I must be extraordinarily insensitive, my darling, because it truly never occurred to me that my bachelor indiscretions would come back to haunt me in this particular way.’
He took her back into his arms. ‘But if that’s how you feel, so be it.’ His lips brushed her hair. ‘You don’t have to live here, sweetheart, or even spend one solitary night with me. I’ll put this place on the market, and we’ll find somewhere else—somewhere new, with no connotations from the past whatsoever. We can start looking this week.’
‘You’d do that for me?’ She turned her face into his shoulder.
‘That and far more,’ he said. ‘How many times must I say it?’ He paused. ‘Tarn, I wish I knew what had happened in your life to make you so reluctant to trust me. Will you tell me—one day?’
‘Yes.’ Her voice was muffled. She was thankful she didn’t have to look into his eyes. ‘Yes—one day.’
When Tarn got back to the flat, she found Della curled up on the living room sofa in her dressing gown.
‘Oh, hi.’ Tarn checked in surprise. ‘I thought you’d be asleep.’
‘No.’ Della rose to her feet. ‘I had things on my mind, and I wanted to talk to you.’ She took a breath. ‘Tarn, are you engaged to Caspar Brandon?’
Tarn’s lips parted in a gasp of shock. But she can’t know that, she thought. Not possibly.
She said with perfect truth, ‘I—I don’t understand.’
‘Nor do I—but I found this.’ Della produced Evie’s ring box from her pocket. ‘It was on the sideboard and—well, I’m afraid I had a look inside. I had no right to do that, and you’ve every reason to be angry with me.
‘But I want you to know that whatever you’ve said about him—everything you’ve believed is absolutely true. He is a love rat and a cheat, and this proves it. So please tell me that if you are engaged to him, it’s for you own purposes and not because you’ve also been taken in by his charm and his lies.’
‘Dell, slow down.’ Tarn’s head was whirling. ‘What on earth are you talking about? That’s Evie’s engagement ring. Her diamonds, not mine.’
Della snorted. ‘Diamonds be damned. They’re cubic zirconia. Pretty to look at but worth a fraction of the real thing.’ She shook her head. ‘I admit I had my doubts about Evie because I’ve always considered her a total flake. But Caz Brandon is far worse. A bigger fake than his so-called diamonds.’
She sighed before continuing. ‘I know I was against what you were planning, but you were right, and I was wrong. He dazzled that poor silly girl into his bed and dumped her when he was tired of her. And I’ve discovered something else. That place she’s been locked up in—well, he’s on the board of trustees. That’s why it’s so difficult for you to see her and talk to her. Because he put her there, conveniently out of his way.’
Tarn stared at her, the beat of her heart slamming slowly and heavily against her ribcage. She said in a whisper, ‘Are you—quite sure?’
‘I looked him up on line—not the social stuff—but the directorships and other connections outside his publishing empire, and found it. Then I checked back with The Refuge to make sure. Not just a trustee but listed as a benefactor. With his sort of money, you can get away with anything.’
Della took a deep breath. ‘But I’m here now to say that he deserves everything that’s coming to him, and if I can help you bring him down, I will.’
Tarn took the little box from her outstretched hand and opened it slowly, staring down at the icy glitter of the stones. Wondering how she could have been so deceived. Why she too hadn’t recognised at once that they were not real diamonds.
But nothing about his relationship with Evie had been true, she thought. And he dared ask me to trust him…
Pain twisted to agony inside her as she re-lived the memory of being in his arms. He chooses his bait according to his victim, she thought. With Evie, it was all glamour and the high life. But with me, it was sex.
And I so nearly fell for it—for all the well-worn technique he’s practised over the years. How could I have been so weak—so stupid?
She said, her voice harsh, ‘I disliked this ring from the moment I saw it. It was too big, too showy, but I told myself that at least it seemed to prove that he’d really cared for her once.
‘And even though I was wrong about that, I’ll make sure that he cares eventually. That he’ll regret to his dying day what he did to Evie.’
And for myself, she added silently. How much will I be left to regret—and for how long?
And knew that, in spite of everything, her regrets could last for the rest of her life.
THINGS, Tarn told herself, were moving altogether too far and too fast, as if she was a novice skier caught heading downwards on a black run.
Her first shock had been the sale of Caz’s flat less than a week after it had gone on the market.
‘There were four offers,’ he told her that evening, with a tinge of ruefulness. ‘Even the agents were surprised.’
‘Well—it’s a beautiful flat,’ Tarn returned, glancing around her, and suppressing a slight pang of her own.
But she couldn’t weaken now, she thought. He deserved to lose it. To know what it was like to be left with nothing.
‘But sadly not beautiful enough to tempt you to forget my bachelor sins and stay here.’ Caz lifted her on to his knee and held her close, his lips against her hair. ‘Now we have to find somewhere for ourselves alone.’
The next shock had been to find herself being escorted round a whole series of the kind of properties she’d only ever imagined in her dreams and having constantly to remind herself that dreams were all they could remain.
She’d envisaged Caz becoming bored and possibly irritated at being involved in an endless quest which he must regard as unnecessary, but, however contrary her behaviour, and she remained consistently hard to please, his patience and good humour remained constant.
And their shared sense of the ridiculous provided her with some awkward moments when his sardonic sideways glance when the agent was happily eulogising some terrible interior design excess almost reduced her to helpless giggles.
‘It’s lovely,’ Tarn admitted, after they’d left yet another glamorous penthouse and returned to Caz’s flat. ‘But it’s just a showcase. I bet no-one’s so much as chopped an onion in that kitchen. And do we really need a hot tub in the roof garden?’