A Dangerous Arrangement (28 page)

‘This,' Marina pointed at the food with her fork, ‘is truly delicious.'

Michelle smiled. Well, it was half a smile. Her sister was the kind of person who never really smiled properly.

‘Try and eat it all.' Michelle turned to go. At the door, she paused and looked back. ‘And just so you know, I hated piano lessons with a vengeance.'

Chapter Thirty-Six

San Francisco

‘Was that Marina?'

Rask returned his phone to the bedside table and looked at Dean. The younger man's back was to him, hands thrust in his pockets as he stood looking out the window.

‘You know it was.'

Dean gave a nod, but he didn't say any more.

He came every day, as Rask knew he would. He made sure Rask had the best of care, the best room, the best damn flowers and fruit.

Every day they'd discuss the repercussions of Li Chen's crime, then catch up on the sporting news. After that, Dean would stare out the window.

‘Must be interesting, what you're looking at,' Rask said.

‘What? Oh.' Dean turned and hunted around the room for a chair, like he'd remembered he was a visitor and should be doing more to keep Rask entertained.

Rask didn't care, he just wanted the old Dean back.

He watched as Dean carried the chair over and put it down close to the bed. ‘What's out there?'

Dean sat down and stretched out his legs. ‘Huh?'

‘Out the window.'

Dean glanced at the window. ‘Nothing.'

How on earth was he going to get through to him? ‘There must be something interesting out there.'

Dean sighed and looked at him like he thought the heart attack might have affected Rask's mental capacity. ‘Is this some kind of trick question?'

‘It's not. I'm just asking what you see when you look out there?'

Dean rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, his hand covering the lower half of his face. ‘I think they're giving you too much medication.'

‘You can't tell me, can you?'

Dean's eyes bored into his, and Rask's newly fixed heart contracted a little. Dean Logan was a grown man, and Rask hadn't seen that lost expression in his eyes since he was a fifteen-year-old boy.

‘I see
her
.'

‘Marina?'

Dean leaned forward, slid his hands into his hair and rested his elbows on his knees. ‘She's everywhere. She's fucking everywhere I look. I can't forget her.'

‘Why would you want to?'

Dean was a powerhouse of a man who was usually helping and advising others. But he had blinkers on when it came to himself.

When he didn't answer, Rask went on. ‘You see her everywhere because she's in your head.' He didn't need to say ‘and in your heart'. Dean was smart enough to have worked that out.

‘You an expert on love now?'

‘So you love her, and you won't do anything about it.'

‘I don't believe in long-distance relationships.'

‘You can get anywhere in the world in twenty-four hours. And it's not as though you don't have the means.'

For a long while Dean stayed quiet. Then slowly, almost painfully, he took his hands from his hair and straightened up in the chair.

‘The thing is, Rask, I'd want her with me all the time. And it wouldn't be fair on her, not with the career she has. There would be times when we'd have to be apart, and I know I'd be miserable during those times.'

‘So you've decided to be miserable the entire time instead?'

Dean pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘You don't understand.'

Anger and frustration welled up inside Rask. ‘Don't tell me I don't understand. I've known you since you were fifteen years old, son. I can read you like a book.'

‘Hektor.' In an instant the man Rask knew was back, beside him, his hand on his shoulder. ‘Your heart—don't upset yourself.'

‘It's not my heart I'm worried about.' Rask covered Dean's hand with his own and did his best to steady his voice. ‘I'm the one in hospital and you're the one who looks like crap. I love you like the son I never had, and seeing you like this, well, it'll kill me off quicker than the old ticker.'

Dean nodded, and for the first time since he was a teenager, Rask saw a telltale glimmer in his eyes. ‘I'm sorry.'

Rask used the grab handle to pull himself up. ‘I know it's a private matter. I know I have no business interfering, but I couldn't stay quiet any longer. You're tired, worn out. This thing with Li Chen has taken its toll. It's time you started looking after yourself.'

Dean turned away, went to walk towards the window then swung back. ‘She has an amazing career, Hektor. She's the most accomplished woman I've ever known, and yet, the most down to earth.'

‘Except when it comes to that violin.'

He watched Dean smile at the memory. Then he sobered and slowly pushed a hand through his hair. ‘Oh
Jesus
, Rask. What have I done?'

‘You've hurt her.'

Rask had no time for bullshit. He was in the unique position of being Dean Logan's confidant, and Dean had been running on adrenaline these past weeks, driven by the need to get his company back on track and secure the future of his workforce.

They all depended on him.

And the America's Cup disaster had affected him deeply.

Rask sighed. ‘She would have got over the abrupt way you made her leave, she's sensible enough to understand your reasons behind that.'

Dean hoped so. Forcing Marina to leave the yacht that day, when all he wanted was for her to stay, had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do in his life. He'd never forget the way she'd looked at him in the helicopter. Those huge, hurt eyes. They haunted his dreams. Even now, he could hear her voice.

I have to feel something. If I'm not soul connected …

God, he missed her! He'd downloaded all her music, had it on continuous play. It was the only way he could feel connected to her. But it wasn't enough. At night, alone in his room, he'd check the SSO website for any news of her, and one night in a hotel room when he couldn't sleep, he'd even watched
Pocahontas
.

It was fucking pathetic!

He was like a lovelorn schoolboy.

And then the days turned to weeks, and then a month went by, and the tentacles of the Li Chen case had reached into all four corners of the globe.

And he was running on empty.

‘You're right,' he said eventually, ‘she would understand I was trying to get her away.'

But she wouldn't understand his silence.

Seven weeks!
He couldn't just ring her out of the blue after seven weeks. She'd probably hang up and block his calls.

She spoke to Rask only moments ago.

She hadn't asked to speak to him.

And that conductor was back in Sydney.

Suddenly, Dean's heart shifted up a gear and a growing resolve strengthened inside him. He couldn't just call her. He had to do better than that. He needed to make it up to her, show her how much he cared, ask for her forgiveness.

For he wouldn't blame her one bit if she thought he had a cold heart.

A cold heart, and shit for brains.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Sydney

New Year's Eve

Marina waited in the wings and practised her circular breathing. On stage, the chairs were set out in the standard orchestral form. Across from her, she could see the shadowy outlines of other players, instruments at the ready, waiting in the opposite wing.

Earlier, a hum of chatter had come from the assembled audience. Now, not a rustle or murmur could be heard, only the host for the evening introducing the players.

‘It's like a dream,' Eli whispered in her ear. ‘I can't believe I'll be taking your place.'

‘Hey! I'm still concertmaster for this performance.'

He grinned. ‘I know. It's surreal. I'm
playing
at the Sydney Opera House.'

‘I'm pleased Harmon took the news well. Even more pleased you chose this position over Brussels. I think you'll enjoy Australia.'

‘I'm grateful to you for putting in a good word.'

‘You had to audition.'

It was time now for the violins to walk on. Marina glanced at Eli, handsome in his brand new dinner suit. ‘Off you go. Break a leg.'

Marina's heart swelled with pride as she watched Eli take his seat on the stage. He would be concertmaster next year, and according to her watch, next year was a touch under three and a half hours away.

The orchestra settled in without too much fuss, just an odd chair scraping and the rustling of paper as they checked they had the correct scores.

And then Marina was alone in the wings.

Except for Andreas.

‘All the best for your final performance,' he said.

Marina focused her gaze straight ahead. ‘It's not my last. It's my last as concertmaster. I'll be making guest appearances next year.'

‘I hear it means you'll be spending more time in Europe?'

Sleazebag.

‘The summers, mostly.'

‘Hopefully we'll see more of you in Vienna.'

‘I'm sure your wife will be thrilled.'

Marina pressed her lips together in a satisfied smile as the host made the final introductions.

‘And now, please make welcome conductor Andreas Frey, and concertmaster Ms Marina Lane.'

Applause filled Marina's ears, and she steeled herself as a lump began forming in her throat. Despite being happy with how things had worked out, she would dearly miss being part of the symphony.

She smiled, picked a spot on the back wall of the concert hall, and bowed. Then she walked to her chair while Andreas followed suit, lapping up the applause as if God himself had come to the Sydney Opera House.

Finally, she sat in the concertmaster's chair, always to the left of the conductor. She checked the correct music was on her stand, and then lifted her violin into position.

A hush fell over the audience.

Eyes trained on Andreas, Marina held her breath as the conductor raised his baton.

***

From the moment she appeared on stage Dean sat transfixed. Marina wore a long, black pencil skirt and a beautiful blouse. The blouse was black lace, with long bell-shaped sleeves that draped from her wrists when she raised her arms to play.

She sat straight, just as she had in the gondola, hair pulled off her face to fall in waves down her back. Her chin was in the rest, unintentionally tilting her face at an angle which showcased the elegant curve of her neck and the delicate angle of her jawline.

A marketer's dream.

Tonight, her big vivid eyes were focused 100 per cent on the guy on the podium, the brilliant conductor, the man she'd had an affair with. According to the SSO website, he was back in Sydney for a series of short guest appearances.

Jaw tense, Dean listened to the music and tried to ease the ache in his chest. She was so beautiful it hurt just to look at her, and for the umpteenth time he told himself what a stupid bastard he was for staying away so long.

***

At ten-fifty the concert was drawing to a close, and Marina was pleased with the way her wrist had held up. The second part of the program was much easier than the first, just the classic Andrew Lloyd Webber arias that most people loved.

Now, as they reached the scream in Phantom of the Opera, Marina looked around the interior of the concert hall which had been her professional ‘home' for the last three years. The wooden panelling gave the grand setting a cathedral-type ambience, its high vaulted ceiling contributing to the outstanding acoustics. And yet, when it was filled to capacity, as it was now, the room retained an intimate feel.

The lofty notes of the soprano wafted over her and Marina relaxed, determined to enjoy her last performance here as concertmaster. When she returned, it would be as a guest soloist, and Eli would be sitting in this chair.

Her only disappointment was that her father couldn't make it. But then, he was due to arrive in two weeks' time for his first overseas holiday. That more than made up for him missing New Year's Eve.

And she was surrounded by friends tonight, her tribe. Most were members of the orchestra, others were seated among the audience, fellow teaching staff from the conservatorium.

And then, there was Eli. She glanced his way, and he caught her eye, smiled. He was already a close friend, while Harmon, Vlad and Elena would form her friendship base in Europe.

Life couldn't get much better than that.

Except she knew it could.

Refusing to let thoughts of Dean Logan ruin her night, Marina raised her violin and prepared for the big finale.

Every day was getting easier, though the nights were interminably long.

And when she finally fell asleep, he was always there, waiting for her.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

‘How am I going to get all this home?' asked Marina.

The table in the concert hall change room was covered with flowers, chocolates and champagne.

Eli scratched his head. ‘You'll have to get a taxi.'

‘That'll be easy, on New Year's Eve!'

The applause had gone on for ages, and afterwards she'd spent almost an hour backstage receiving wellwishers from everywhere, her peers, co-workers as well as some of the larger sponsors of the orchestra.

Now, mostly everyone had drifted away to meet up with family or friends to welcome in the new year. There were hardly more than a dozen people left in this section of the building.

Eli looked at his watch. ‘It's already ten past eleven. I can pick up my car, come back here and load all this stuff in. Then we can join the others.'

‘Oh, would you Eli?' Marina wandered over to the table. ‘There's bottles of champagne and everything.'

She peeked at a couple of the gift cards. There were flowers from her agent, her management team and the orchestra, as well as a huge magnum of champagne from a group of her friends.