All That the Heart Desires (24 page)

“I just know.”

What followed next was something I was not prepared for. My knees literally lost their strength.

“I love you,” Lorcan said loud enough so that there would be no mistake. I stared at him. He wanted me to confirm I’d heard him.

“Did you hear me, Desiree? And I’m pretty sure you love me too.” Before I managed to answer, he leaned in and kissed me with all the desire from our last encounter. His lips were warm and soft like I remembered them.

I dropped my handbag and my house keys on the ground and my hands went to his hair like they had a mind of their own.

He was right.

When he finally raised his head I saw those sparkling lights in his eyes. Could it be true? Could he really love me? I wasn’t sure I would ever get the answers to those questions.

He bent down and picked up my handbag and keys and handed them to me. Then he turned away and started to walk to his car.

I stood there. Hearing the sound of his car unlock, I knew what I wanted:

“Lorcan,” I said and when our eyes met, I slowly lifted my house keys. It was all I needed to do.

On Saturday morning when I woke up, I was alone in my bed. I sighed and stared at the ceiling, thinking that my drive home the previous night and Lorcan following me was just something I dreamt about. As I turned over onto my side, my eyes widened. A black tee shirt was lying on the floor and it wasn’t mine.

Before I managed to get up, the door opened and Lorcan came into the room carrying a tray. “Good morning,” he said smiling, putting the tray on the table. I was unable to speak. Only a few moments before I thought I had dreamt it all and now he was standing in front of me in his jeans, bare-chested.

“Mmmm … morning,” I murmured in response.

“Are you hungry?” he knelt beside the bed, leaned and kissed me before I managed to answer him. It was all I needed. Feeling his lips on mine and his hands on my body was enough to feel hungry.

Our lovemaking extended into the morning. The croissants and coffee he brought for breakfast went cold but neither of us cared much.

After we finally managed to get out of my bedroom and shower, which we shared, we spent the rest of the day sitting on the terrace or walking along the beach. It was a sunny day and I felt almost free and careless.

“What’s wrong?” Lorcan asked me during the day several times; it was during these moments that I remembered Iain.

We were sitting on the swing on the terrace when he asked me the same question again. It was late in the evening and I found myself opening my mouth ready to tell him.

“What is it?” he asked again. I shook my head and said simply:

“Let’s go to bed.” Without a word he followed me into the house.

Sunday passed by so quickly that I thought I was living a dream. On Sunday evening Lorcan left. He didn’t want to, but persistent phone calls from the team members and, in the end from Crest himself, forced him to leave.

The farewell was long. He just couldn’t get enough of me and to be honest … the feeling was mutual. A bad feeling that this was just too good to be true and that it would not last possessed me. I didn’t want to tell him that. I knew he would just laugh at me, trying to chase away my fears with kisses. For the time being he succeeded.

Just before he left, he turned around and spoke softly to me, running his fingers through my hair as he did so.

“We were together for two days, but I don’t know anything more about you than I did before. You managed to get me talking about myself and that was not my intention…” I knew where this conversation was going.

“You have to go,” I said. “You have a long journey ahead of you. Don’t keep them waiting more than you already have.”

“I love you!” he shouted as he got into his car, and the next minute he was gone.

Not five minutes after him, I left the house and Nice. I had a long journey ahead of me, too. I’d promised Harry I would be in Paris on Monday morning. I decided to surprise him and be at the apartment door before he left for the office.

I had almost ten hours’ drive and I knew I would have to make a few stops before reaching the French capital. Nevertheless, I knew the road and I knew where to stop. And most of all, I liked to drive at night.

To entertain myself during the drive, I had my radio on and almost at full volume. I loved music and my taste was so varied that it even surprised Harry.

I left at nine on the Sunday evening and was at Harry’s door at seven on Monday morning. Although I had driven through the night, I was not tired. Actually I was thrilled, although I tried to calm myself down before I saw my brother.

Parking the car I saw a beautiful sunrise behind the Eifel Tower. I suddenly understood why Parisians loved this symbol of their city. Nevertheless the beauty of the scene lost its battle to my bad memories. Without hesitation, I entered the building where Harry, and occasionally I, lived.

As I had the key to the flat, I let myself in. What awaited me when I entered was something I was absolutely not prepared to for. Instead of a smiling face, Harry’s face was anything but happy.

Trying to get him into a better mood, I greeted him cheerfully. However, the expression on his face was no better than before.

“Good morning you say? Good morning?!” The sound of his voice was even stranger than the look on his face. He’d obviously got out on the wrong side of bed.

I closed the door and put my handbag on the nearest table in the hallway.

“What’s wrong Harry? I came as I had promised…”

“THIS!” Harry yelled and interrupted me by throwing the morning newspaper at me. Slowly, I bent down and picked it up.

Turning it around I faced something else I was not prepared for. The blood drained from my face. My hands started to shake—there was a big colourful photo of a couple on the beach in a passionate embrace. It wasn’t clear who the couple were, but in four smaller photos, beside it, Lorcan and I could be clearly seen.

The big headline: ‘Stolen Moments in the Middle of the Season’ covered the story. The memory of the Saturday afternoon when we really did take a walk along the beach made me stare at the photos.

“But…” I tried to say something, but all I saw was Harry turning away and leaving for the sitting room. I followed him like a puppy. Without looking at me he said:

“But what? What is your excuse? What did you think when you…” He stopped right there. I knew why. He stopped himself before he would say anything he would later regret.

I stayed silent. I had nothing to say in my defence.

“Did you lose your mind? Can you even imagine what this …” he snatched the paper from my hands and put it on the table revealing the photos in full; “…means, now, when we are finally closer to Iain? You went into hiding and now this? How long do you think Juan will need to add two plus two?”

Tears ran down my face. I never thought that one day of pure happiness could do so much damage. I didn’t want to read the article. The subheading ‘Stolen moments and
Demain
’ was enough. I realised the article connected The House of Dame, Lorcan and me.

“Did you even think of the consequences?” Harry said in a cold voice. He was as cold as ice. Sitting on the armchair, I swept the newspaper off the coffee table. After that, all I could do was cover my eyes.

“Don’t think…” I started but he didn’t let me finish.

“What if Juan sees it? Did you think of that possibility? He can vanish with the boy again and you will not see him again—ever!” Harry paced from one side of the sitting room to another.

Finally, I had had enough. I knew my eyes were red, but they were bright from the tears that ran down my face.

“What’s done is done!” I had finally spoken. Harry was not impressed. He was still angry with me. He stopped in front of me and continued to berate me.

“You are running around with the world’s most famous racing star and you don’t even think of the possibility that you might be followed by the paparazzi? You are extremely naïve.” His tone was sardonic and hurtful; he didn’t know how much.

I opened my mouth to say something in my defence, but I was not allowed to.

“Forget it!” he said and left the sitting room; the front door closed with a slam. I realised I was alone. I managed to get to the window just in time to see Harry get into the car and drive away.

Suddenly I remembered that bad feeling I’d had the day before. It was something I should have taken more notice of, but I didn’t. It was over. Harry was right, although he had spoken in true anger and it hurt even more than he could ever know.

I had managed to hide in anonymity, so that Juan or whatever his real name was, would feel safe enough to make a mistake. Instead of him slipping up, I had made a capital mistake because of the feelings from which I wanted to hide: love.

Lorcan was right. I did love him. I had been in love with him for a long time, I just hadn’t realised it. And that had made me careless. I was angry with myself—no one else, although I would love to have put at least some blame on Harry’s shoulders.

Not long after I returned to the sofa, I fell asleep. A night without sleep had taken its toll.

The front doorbell ringing woke me up. At first I didn’t remember where I was. Finally when the doorbell didn’t stop ringing, I got up and went to open the door.

A quick glance through the open window blinds let me know it was late at night. I wondered who was at the door at such a late hour.

Opening the door, I took two steps backwards. It was Lorcan, with Harry slumped in his arms.

“For heaven’s sake, what happened?” I asked Lorcan, who was helping Harry into the apartment. Harry raised his head.

“How much more trouble will you bring me?” His eyes were murky and his tongue was heavy as he spoke. He was extremely drunk. Nevertheless, I felt all the weight of the question. I stepped around the other side of my brother and helped Lorcan take Harry to his room and put him on the bed.

We undressed him silently and covered him. Before we left the room, we could hear heavy snoring. I hadn’t seen him like that for a long time. I hated to think that I was the one who had caused this.

Lorcan followed me to the sitting room. He sat on the sofa as I paced up and down.

“Can I offer you something?” I finally asked him.

“No, thank you,” he said. At that point our eyes met.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him. His silver eyes were resting on me.

“I wanted to see you.” Tempted as I might have been to join him on the sofa, I sat in the armchair.

“You haven’t slept.” He’d told me the night before that he was going to England for some additional testing of the car. It was something that needed to be done. The second half of the season was fast approaching and they needed to be sure that everything was as it should be.

“I did, don’t worry. I turned around; the next minute I landed and saw the newspapers…”

“Newspapers?” I was shocked. I was convinced it was only one newspaper.

“Didn’t you see them?” he asked. His glance fell on the one on the floor near the sofa. “Yes, you did. Please, let me…”

I raised my hand and stopped him.

“Don’t.”

“…apologise for the article,” he finished. I waved my hand.