‘You made that more than clear from the very beginning.’ Still she stood there in the middle of the bridge, looking at him with fierce determination. She didn’t even notice a couple walking across the bridge towards him. Her gaze didn’t leave his face for one second.
He had done exactly that; there was no denying he’d made it absolutely clear he didn’t want love. Such a denial was what had kept him safe. It meant he’d never have to give a piece of himself to someone who could use it and destroy him emotionally—something Emma had had the power to do from the moment they’d first met. As a teenager he’d spoken just once about his father to his mother and she had confessed she’d loved him when they’d first met, before he’d shown his true self. From that moment on he’d vowed to keep such destructive emotions as love locked away.
He couldn’t do that any longer. He had to acknowledge them and set them free, even if Emma did have the power to destroy him. If she didn’t feel the same burning love for him, then he would be nothing, but he couldn’t just tell her, not when he wanted her to be happy—with or without him. If she truly loved someone else, then he would have to let her go. It shook him to the core to realise he loved her enough to do that, enough to set her free into the arms of another man.
He thought back to their discussion on love, to the day she’d laughed at such a notion existing. It had been that denial of what she’d truly wanted that had forged the path forward for them.
‘You made a joke out of love and happiness. You scorned it as much as I did, Emma.’ He took several tentative steps closer, encouraged when she didn’t move, didn’t turn and walk away. Inside, his heart was breaking. He was a mess, but he kept his stern control, retaining that ever-present defensive shield.
‘I can understand why you want to shut love out of your life, Nikolai, but the things I experienced as a child made me want that kind of happiness even more.’ She took a step towards him and hope soared inside him. ‘We want different things. You want to be free of commitment and emotion, but I want love, Nikolai.’
Those last words goaded him harder than he could have imagined, pushing him to ask just what he needed to know, even though the answer would be like a knife in his newly revealed heart. ‘And does Richard give you that love?’
‘Richard?’ Emma’s mind whirled in shock. Why did Richard have anything to do with this? She struggled to think, struggled to work out how he’d come to that conclusion, and then it hit her as she remembered their afternoon on the river trip. She’d taken a call from Richard and had been so happy the article was out and that he liked it, approved of what she’d done, but Nikolai’s mood had darkened the instant she’d told him who was on the phone. She’d thought he was angry with her, but was it something more? Had he felt threatened by Richard, even though he’d been on the phone?
That wretched flicker of hope flared to life within her once more and kept her where she was. She looked at Nikolai, standing now at the end of Bow Bridge, as if to continue to walk towards her was something he couldn’t do.
‘Do you love him, Emma? Is he the man you are leaving to go back to?’ Nikolai’s voice was hoarse with heavy emotion in a way she’d never heard before.
She blinked at him in total shock. He seriously thought she was in love with Richard? You used to, before he rejected that young love and adoration. The taunt echoed in her head and she saw it from Nikolai’s perspective. She saw the easy friendship she and Richard had established over the last few years, saw how it might look to someone on the outside. But, like Nikolai, Richard had made it more than clear he didn’t want anything serious, squashing that first crush until it withered and died, leaving nothing but friendship—a working friendship.
‘Richard and I are just friends. Always have been.’ She frowned at the scowl which crossed his face. Did such a reaction really mean he saw Richard as a threat? But to what—their marriage born out of a deal or something more?
‘But that isn’t what you want, is it, Emma? You told me as much on the boat.’
‘I did?’
‘“It hurts like hell to feel anything for someone who feels nothing for you”. Those were your exact words, Emma.’ He calmly repeated what she’d told him, his dark eyes watching every move she made, every breath she took.
Emma’s knees almost buckled beneath her and she moved to the side of the bridge, clutching at the ornate balustrades for support. She’d been talking about him, not Richard, but he’d interpreted it as something quite different. No wonder he’d become distant to the point of coldness since that day. The closeness they’d begun to share, which she’d hoped would give rise to love, had vanished—because of what she’d said.
Waves of nausea rushed over her and her head swam. She couldn’t think any more, could barely stand. She hadn’t eaten anything yet, too anxious earlier to face anything, and now it was all too much. She couldn’t do this now.
She felt as though she was falling then strong arms folded around her as Nikolai wrapped her in the safety of his embrace. To feel his arms around her, holding her against his body, was almost unbearable. It was like coming home—and it broke her heart a little bit more.
‘You’re not well.’ The deep, seductive timbre of his voice radiated through her and she closed her eyes, allowing herself a brief moment in the haven of his embrace.
‘Maybe we can talk later.’ She clutched at the lifeline the moment had given her, not wanting to have this discussion any more. It was bad enough that he didn’t love her, that he was about to reject her, but to accuse her of loving Richard was too much.
‘No, we talk now—or not at all.’ She looked up into his dark eyes and saw myriad emotions swirling in them, emotions she’d never seen in them before. ‘It’s your choice, Emma.’
She didn’t want to talk now, didn’t feel well enough to think, let alone talk, but she couldn’t walk away and say nothing. Not when he held her so gently and looked at her so longingly. Was it possible he did feel something for her? Could it ever be love?
She needed to make herself clear, to let him know how wrong he’d got it all. She looked up at his handsome face, fighting the urge to reach up and touch his cheek, feel the smoothness of his freshly shaven face. ‘It wasn’t Richard I was talking about that day.’
* * *
Nikolai had moved quickly, taking Emma in his arms, holding her against him before she’d slithered completely to the floor. He’d inhaled her sweet scent, felt the warmth of her body, and his senses had exploded despite the worry he had for her health. How had he not seen it before? How could he not have known he loved her?
Because you shut your heart away.
She leant against the balustrade and looked up at him, as if waiting for him to say something, expectation mingling with desperation in her eyes. She’d just spoken, as his mind had whirled and his body had gone into overdrive just from holding her. Whatever it was she’d said, she obviously expected a response, but his ability to think rationally had left him the moment he’d held her.
‘What did you just say?’ he asked gently, unable to resist the urge to brush her hair from her face and then stroke the silky length of it down her back.
She looked up at him, tears beginning to brim in her eyes. ‘I said that it wasn’t Richard. When I said that on the boat, it wasn’t him I was talking about.’
His hand stilled at her back and he held his breath, willing her to say more, but she looked down, her head dipping against his chest. If it wasn’t Richard, who was it that didn’t love her in the way she loved him? Had she been referring to him? Was it possible she loved him?
‘Emma,’ he said and lifted her chin forcing her look up at him. ‘Have you ever told that person you love them?’
Still he couldn’t