And then Saskia. ‘Oh, my God, you’re actually going to be my sister! Isobel Martin, how could you keep something like this quiet? And from me, of all people! Ring me the second you get this. I want details.’ She laughed. ‘And congratulations. This is brilliant. It’s the best news I’ve heard all year.’
Isobel sat down and looked at Alex. ‘Oh, blimey. They’re all so pleased.’
‘I know.’
‘And what course? Why does your mother think I’m on a course?’
He lifted a hand in protest. ‘She asked why you weren’t with me to share the news. I had to think on my feet. So I said the first thing that came into my head—that you were on a course. Which I know was a lie, and I know you hate lying, but what else could I do?’
‘You could’ve told them the truth.’
‘How?’ He sighed. ‘I’ve been racking my brain all the way here to work out how to fix this. Look, if you don’t mind going along with it for a while, then we can say I’ve done something terrible—I dunno, got drunk and disgraced you and gone off with another woman at a party or something—and you can break off the engagement in high dudgeon. And then we can just go back to normal.’
She shook her head. ‘Alex, that’s a hideously bad idea—it’ll hurt everyone. Your parents will never forgive you if they think you’ve treated me badly, mine will never forgive you either, and it’ll cause rifts all over the place. And I’m not going to tell even more lies. It’s enough of a mess as it is.’
‘Bel, you heard them all. They’re delighted that we’re together. It’s as if we’ve given them Christmas, a milestone birthday and a huge lottery win all rolled into one. If I tell them the truth, they’ll be so disappointed, so upset that it’s not happening. At least if we tell them it didn’t work out, it’ll let them down gently.’
‘By you being unfaithful? That’s hardly being gentle, Alex.’
‘Then I hope you’ve got a better idea, because I can’t think of any other way.’
Her mind had gone completely blank. ‘I can’t, either,’ she admitted.
‘Mum said she wondered how long it would take me to see what was right under my nose, and she’s glad I finally realised.’ He raked his hand through his hair. ‘She thinks I’ve been in love with you secretly since for ever.’
‘Of course you haven’t.’ Isobel shifted guiltily. Though could she say the same for herself? The fact that she could still remember how a kiss had felt twelve years ago …’ This is crazy.’
‘And it’s my fault. I’m sorry, Bel.’ He looked grim. ‘I’m just going to have to call everyone and put them straight. I apologise if it’s going to cause any awkwardness for you.’
‘Hey. I’ll get over it,’ she said lightly.
‘I just hate bursting Mum’s bubble. Especially as Saskia called me on my way back here and told me it’s the brightest she’s heard Mum sound in months.’
‘I know where you’re coming from. My parents have wanted to see me settled down again, too, after Gary. I think it’s because they’re …’ She bit her lip. ‘I was a late baby. Their only one. And although Mum’s a young seventy-two, she’s been talking lately about …’ She swallowed. ‘About getting old.’
‘And the fact that they’re your only family.’
Trust Alex to see straight into the heart of things. And to voice what she couldn’t bring herself to say—that when her parents died she’d be completely on her own.
He paused. ‘You know, this could be a solution for both of us.’
‘What could?’
‘Getting married. For real.’
It was a moment before she could speak. ‘But, Alex, you said you want to settle down and have a family.’
He shrugged. ‘A wife counts as family.’
‘So you don’t want children?’
He spread his hands. ‘Bel, if you want children, that’s fine by me—if you don’t, that’s also fine. No pressure either way.’
‘But …’ Panic skittered through her. If only he knew. They might not have a choice. ‘We can’t do this.’
‘Yes, we can.’ He took her hand. ‘Think about it. Our parents get on well. I like your parents and you like mine—we’re both going to have great in-laws.’
Something Isobel definitely hadn’t experienced with Gary, whose mother had always resented her. Nothing had ever been said overtly, but there had been plenty of pointed comments; Gary’s mother hadn’t taken well to the idea of his wife being the most important woman in his life. Isobel knew she wouldn’t have to put up with anything like that from Marcia, who had always treated her as a much-loved part of the family.
‘Both lots of parents are going to be relieved we’re settled down,’ Alex continued, ‘and they’ll stop worrying about us and nagging us. And we’ve got the basis for a brilliant marriage—we like each other.’
‘But liking isn’t enough,’ she protested.
‘Yes, it is. It’s better than love, Bel. It’s honest. It’s permanent—something that’s not going to change and we don’t have all these false ideals and rosy-coloured glasses, so we’re not going to get hurt. We’re going into this knowing exactly what we’re doing. Eyes wide open.’
‘I …’
He sighed. ‘Bel, if you’re worrying about what I think you’re worrying about … there’s only one way to prove it to you.’ He bent his head and kissed her.
It was the lightest, sweetest, most unthreatening kiss, and Isobel felt herself relax. Alex cupped her face in both hands and bent his head again. His mouth moved against hers, soft and sweet and gentle.
And then suddenly it was as if someone had lit touch-paper and heat flared between them. Her hands were fisted in his hair, their mouths were jammed together, and his tongue was exploring hers.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted someone so much.
And it was as scary as hell.
He broke the kiss for a moment, just to warn her, ‘Stop thinking—just feel.’ And then he was kissing her again, making her head spin.
The next thing she knew, Alex had swung her up in his arms and was carrying her to her bedroom. He set her down on her feet next to the bed. ‘Wow, Bel, you’re a real hedonist. I’ve never seen so many pillows.’
Of course. It was the first time he’d ever been in her bedroom. He’d always slept on her sofa bed whenever he’d stayed over at her flat. He walked over to the wrought-iron footboard and ran his fingers along it. ‘This is beautiful. And I’m very glad you have a double bed.’ He smiled. ‘Especially because you have all those pillows.’
‘I read in bed,’ she said defensively. ‘It’s more comfortable with lots of pillows.’
‘Other things are better with lots of pillows, too,’ he remarked.
And when colour shot into her face he laughed, stole another kiss, and went over to her bedside table. He switched on the lamp, closed the curtains, then frowned. ‘This light’s a bit bright.’
‘I told you, I read in bed.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t see