One More Sleepless Night (15 page)

FIFTEEN

Buoyancy, focus and positive thinking had been pretty hard to maintain when she’d been feeling so up and down but Nicky didn’t think she’d done too badly over the last week or so.

For the first few days following her return home she’d swung like some sort of demented pendulum between utter misery at the thought of never seeing Rafael again and the grimly satisfying conviction that she was better off without him. But lately she’d come to terms with the fact that they were well and truly finished and that she was once again on her own, and, while she’d never claim to be happy about it, she had, at least, reached a place where she didn’t feel winded whenever she thought about him or about what might have been. Well, not
every
time.

So by and large she reckoned she was making good progress, especially with the changes she’d decided to implement. She’d thrown out her suitcase. Made some calls. Fired off a couple of exploratory emails and bought a few bits and pieces for her flat. When she wasn’t thinking about Rafael she felt calm, grounded, and, for the first time in her life, settled.

Any day now she might even be able to delete the photos she’d taken during the time she’d spent at the
cortijo
because while some of them were pretty good she knew perfectly well that that chapter of her life was over and that she needed to move on.

But telling herself to wipe the folder and actually doing
it were poles apart, and every time she sat down to click on the ‘delete’ button she invariably found herself clicking on the ‘play slide show’ button instead.

Which was precisely what had happened a couple of minutes ago. She’d slid into her chair and opened up the folder, telling herself that she really would do it this time, yet here she was sitting at her desk, staring with longing at the monitor and trying for the billionth time not to think about what might have been if only she’d kept her big mouth shut.

The pictures slowly flipped across the screen and as they did Nicky felt her throat begin to ache all over again. Photo after photo of the grapes, of the vineyards and the people who worked in them, of the arid countryside, and more of Rafael than she’d ever imagined she’d taken flashed before her eyes.

She sighed and her heart squeezed as his gorgeous face filled the screen yet again. In this particular head-shot, he was looking straight at the camera, smiling at her, his eyes a lovely clear green in the bright sunlight, and as she surreptitiously hit ‘pause’ her mind instantly flew back to the moment she’d taken it. He’d been talking to one of the workers and as if he’d felt her eyes on him had suddenly looked up. Within moments he’d been striding over to her and taking her by the hand and dragging her into the house from where they hadn’t emerged till dark.

A wave of melancholy washed over her and Nicky closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Swallowing hard, she opened her eyes and set her jaw. She had to get a grip. She really did. She couldn’t carry on wafting around like this. Foolishly indulging herself and romanticising everything that had gone on.

She had to do it now. Right now.

Naturally the pain would be sharp but it would be short and final and at
last
she’d be able to move on.

Taking a deep breath and bracing herself, she slid the mouse across her desk so that the cursor was hovering over the ‘delete’ button and her finger was hovering over the mouse. She dithered. She frowned. She bit her lip. Then she was lifting her chin, clenching her jaw just that little bit more and lowering her forefinger, about to press it and delete the lingering traces of Rafael from her life when the sound of her buzzer ricocheted through her flat and jolted her out of the bubble she’d been in.

No. She wasn’t ready, she told herself, her heart thumping as she whipped the mouse up to close the folder instead of deleting it. She really wasn’t. Maybe tomorrow...

Shaking her head in despair at her own pathetically weak resolve but reassuring herself that at some point this futile obsession with Rafael had to fade, she jumped up, headed to the kitchen and picked up the handset. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi,’ came the voice from the other end of the intercom and she nearly dropped the handset because she knew of only one voice that deep, that sexy, and only one voice that spread through her like treacle and had the ability to make her shiver with nothing more than a simple ‘hi’.

‘Rafael?’ she said, feeling her legs about to give way and sagging against the wall for support.

Maybe she’d been staring at those photos for too long. Maybe her poor battered imagination had finally succumbed to lunacy and had conjured him up out of nowhere, because what would he be doing at the other end of her intercom?

‘May I come up?’

‘No,’ she said, her mind reeling and her voice breathy with shock.

‘Please.’

‘Gaby’s still away,’ she added as it dimly occurred to her that he might well be here to see his sister, not her, and it wouldn’t do to get the wrong end of the stick again.

‘I know. I haven’t come to see her. I’ve come to see you.’

Oh.

Her heart stopped and then suddenly started galloping as it finally sank in that he was no figment of her imagination. That he really was here, standing on her doorstep and wanting to see her. ‘Why?’

‘Buzz me up and I’ll tell you.’

Nicky closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the wall. Agh, what should she do?

Her head, which was remembering the way he’d been so cold, dismissive and cruel, was telling her to tell him to get lost, but her heart... Well, that was remembering the joy and happiness she’d felt when she’d realised she was in love with him and the pain and agony she’d felt at the knowledge she was never going to lay eyes on him again. And frankly there was no contest because deep down she’d been heartbroken and miserable and she was so very desperate to see him again.

But that didn’t mean she was prepared to forgive him the minute he set foot inside her building, did it?

Nicky took a deep breath to calm her nerves and told herself to get a grip. ‘Fine,’ she said, managing to drum up a pleasing degree of diffidence. ‘You can have five minutes.’

‘Five minutes is all I need.’

She buzzed him in and then he was gone and she was hurrying to check her appearance in the hall mirror while constantly reminding herself to stay cool and detached. But it was so hard to stay cool and detached when her head was swirling with questions like: why had he come? What did he want? And what could possibly need only five minutes?

She opened the door and gripped the handle in a bid to stop her hand shaking. She pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin and slowly inhaled and exhaled to try and stay calm but it didn’t work terribly well because Rafael hove into view, looking dishevelled, pale and not a little wild-eyed, and as her heart turned over at the sight of him and she nearly collapsed with longing she realised that everything she’d convinced herself over the last week, all that stuff about doing fine on her own and not wanting him, was rubbish because she wasn’t doing fine and she did want him and she hadn’t got over him nearly as much as she’d thought.

* * *

Throughout the flight to Paris, Rafael had gone over and over what he wanted to say to Nicky and how he planned on saying it. But now he was here, looking down into her beautiful blue-grey eyes, his heart thundering, his mouth dry and his whole world reduced to this square metre of Parisian real estate and the woman standing in it, every single word of his well-prepared speech shot straight from his head.

‘Nicky,’ he said, and cleared his throat.

‘Rafael,’ she said, sounding disconcertingly far more calm and in control than he was. ‘Come in.’

‘Thank you.’ As she stood to one side he moved past her. She was tantalisingly within touching distance and he went dizzy with the effort of not stopping and reaching for her right then and there because, considering the way they’d parted, he didn’t think that would be the best move he could ever make.

She closed the door and showed him into her sitting room and then whipped past him and leaned against the edge of her desk, her arms folded over her chest and her expression still utterly inscrutable.

What with the overall chilliness of her demeanour Rafael got the impression that she wasn’t entirely happy to see him, but that was fine. That was what he’d expected and he was ready for it. Besides, he was fired up and on an unstoppable mission, in love with her and totally prepared to fight for her.

‘So how have you been?’ he said, shoving his hands in his pockets because they’d suddenly started shaking a little.

‘Absolutely fine,’ she said with a cool smile. ‘You?’

‘Grumpy as hell.’

‘Oh?’ she said, arching an eyebrow. ‘What happened?’ Before he could answer she held up a hand and flashed him a tight smile. ‘No, no, don’t tell me. Let me guess. One of your precious plants died.’ Ruthlessly ignoring her sardonic tone, Rafael slowly shook his head. ‘No? OK, then, your latest batch of wine is undrinkable? Or hang on, I know, someone actually dared to ask you for advice.’

Her sarcasm was nothing less than he deserved, and he told himself that if she really hadn’t wanted to see him she’d never have let him in, and if she really no longer cared she wouldn’t be trying so hard to pretend she didn’t. At least he hoped to God that was the case. ‘Something infinitely more troubling than any of that,’ he said.

‘Excellent.’

‘How’s work?’ he asked, wondering if a sudden change in direction might crack her unpromising and actually faintly disconcerting façade.

But Nicky didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘Fantastic,’ she said smoothly. ‘I’ve been looking at diversifying.’

‘Into what?’

‘All sorts of things. Corporate stuff. Social events. The odd wedding and christening.’

Rafael tilted his head. ‘That’s quite a change.’

‘A necessary one. What with all that travel my carbon footprint was getting way too big and my previous subject matter had begun to pall.’

‘I remember.’

She arched that eyebrow once again. ‘I’m surprised.’

‘I remember it all.’

She went pink and her gaze slid over his shoulder. ‘That’s unforgivable,’ she muttered and bit on her lip.

Rafael glanced around to see what was suddenly of such interest and as he did so he clocked the pictures on the walls, the cushions strewn over the sofa and armchairs, and what he could only describe as clutter littering the place.

Hadn’t she told him once that her flat was only a rental? That she’d never bothered filling it as she didn’t know how long she’d be staying? None of what he could see right now looked particularly temporary.

‘Nice place,’ he murmured, feeling a bit derailed by the knowledge.

‘Yes, well, I decided if I’m going to settle down here then I might as well put some effort into it.’

He frowned. ‘Settle down here?’

‘That’s right. I’m buying the flat off my landlord.’

She sounded so matter-of-fact, so sorted, it suddenly struck him that he might have left it too late after all and he went cold. ‘Right,’ he said as the room spun for a second. ‘I see. Right. Congratulations.’

‘Thanks. Is there a problem?’

‘No problem.’ He shoved a hand through his hair and told himself to stay focused. ‘It’s just something of a surprise to discover that someone who’s always claimed to be rootless wants to put down after roots after all.’ And without him.

‘Well, why not?’ she said indignantly. ‘I’m twenty-nine. I can’t drift around for ever.’

‘This is true.’

‘I need to start thinking about the future. You know, pensions and stuff.’

‘Sensible.’

‘It’s normal.’

‘It is.’

‘So why the surprise?’ Her expression cleared and she let out a little laugh. ‘Oh, I get it. You expected to find me huddled in a pathetic heap, weeping buckets over you, didn’t you?’

‘No,’ he said, because he hadn’t. Although to be honest he hadn’t expected to find her quite so together either.

‘Why are you here, Rafael?’ she said with a sudden weariness that for some reason scared the living daylights out of him. ‘Surely it can’t be to admire my interior-decorating skills.’

‘It isn’t.’

‘And it can’t be out of any concern for my welfare.’

‘Can’t it?’

‘You of all people know it can’t. So?’

She set her hands on her hips and glared at him and Rafael pulled himself together. However she felt about him now—and he
really
didn’t want to contemplate the notion he’d managed to kill off her love for good back there in his car—the least she deserved was an explanation for his abominable behaviour the last time they’d seen each other. Taking a deep breath, he stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and said, ‘I came to tell you about my plants.’

* * *

Nicky really wished Rafael hadn’t done that thing with his hands because up until that point she’d been doing so well.

Deeply concerned by the realisation that she still loved him as much as she ever had, she’d decided that channelling her inner ice queen was the way to handle his sudden heart-stopping appearance on her doorstep, and in her mind’s eye she’d been standing there wearing a white dress encrusted with icicles, a vast pointy ruff made of glass round her neck and a white bouffant wig studded with a thousand tiny glittering crystals. She’d even mentally added a touch of white powder to her face and white lipstick to her mouth, and to her delight she’d had the feeling that he’d found her frostiness a bit uncomfortable. A little unsettling. And rather unexpected.

But then he’d stuck his hands in his pockets and it instantly dragged her attention away from all things ice and made it settle firstly on the stretched shirt behind which lay his chest, and then lower on the stretched jeans, behind which lay—

As heat blasted through her and incinerated the ice Nicky snapped her gaze back up and swallowed hard as she determinedly put all thoughts of his lovely warm body out of her head and concentrated on not giving in to her pathetically weak resistance and flinging herself into his arms.

‘Your plants?’ she echoed, hoping her disdain masked her sudden light-headedness. ‘You came all the way to Paris to tell me about your plants? Why on earth would I want to know about your plants? What do they have to do with anything?’