The Girl in the Yellow Vest (31 page)

BOOK: The Girl in the Yellow Vest
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‘You want to tell me what’s going on?’ She moved closer to Mark, trying not to notice the way his chest heaved and fell with each shuddering breath.

‘Not particularly, Ms Templeton. I think you’ve done enough to aggravate me for one day.’

‘Aggravate you?’ she repeated, also unzipping her wetsuit and peeling it off. ‘I’m trying to help you. It’s clear you’re really upset about something.’

His eyes blazed a trail across her body and she was suddenly conscious of the fact that she had a lot of skin on display.

‘I’m upset about a lot of things, Ms Templeton,’ he hissed. ‘Most of all, I’m upset that you’re standing there in nothing but a green string bikini minding my business!’

A flush rolled through her body but she didn’t move away; instead she tried to stand a little more confidently. ‘I can’t change what I’m wearing, Mr Crawford, but I’m listening if you need someone to talk to. You said earlier that you were worried about your men. But maybe they aren’t the only ones who need to get something off their chest.’

He sat down on a wooden bench behind him and put his head in his hands.

Her heart clenched at the sight of him in this pose. She walked over and sat down beside him. Using the hint the instructor had given her, she decided to take a risk. ‘Mr Crawford, this isn’t the first time you’ve been diving, is it? You’re not an amateur, are you?’

He didn’t look up. Didn’t say anything for a moment and she thought she’d lost him until he said quietly, ‘I had a twin brother who was attacked by a shark. He died in hospital from his wounds.’

She swallowed hard. ‘Was he diving?’

‘No, surfing. We both were.’

She examined his hung head, wanting to touch him more than ever but not daring to. Her instincts told her what happened next. ‘You haven’t been near the water since losing him, have you?’

‘No.’

She bit her lip at his return to silence, cursing herself for her own stupidity. For bringing back all these memories for him. This pain. This loss. No wonder he had been so angry at her.

The fingers of one hand curled into a fist against her bare thigh. And as for his wife . . . what the devil was she thinking sending her husband off diving? And alone too. Couldn’t she have at least come with him?

‘What is her problem?’ she accidently said out loud, making him turn his head to look at her. His dark eyes were more tumultuous than the sea outside but he seemed to have got some of his old arrogant self back. That chest of his was so close, it practically beckoned for her hands, so she balled them both up this time.

‘Who are you referring to?’ he demanded.

Crap! Now she was in it.

With a toss of her head she said defiantly, ‘Your wife. She seems completely insensitive.’

A ghost of a smile tickled his mouth. But it wasn’t anything like the smile that she had seen on his face earlier. She didn’t like this expression at all.

‘Actually, Ms Templeton, you’re quite right. My wife does have a problem.’

‘She does?’

‘Yes,’ he said briskly. ‘She’s dead.’ He stood up and crossed the room.

‘W-what?’

Confusion roared like a train through her head and then all she wanted to do was curl up and cringe. Of all the
faux pas
you could make, this was up there at the top. She moved her dry mouth searching desperately for something to say.

‘I’m sorry –’

‘Don’t be.’

The blunt way he cut off her words, as though he couldn’t bear to hear them, showed far more than he realised. Here was a man trapped in his own tragic past. He still wore his ring, he still spoke about his wife as though she were alive. His anger, so strong and so cruel, was a deep reflection of his agony.

‘Oh, Mark . . .’ She began standing up.

‘Don’t pity me,’ he said. ‘It’s a waste of your time.’ He held up his palm as she tried to step closer.

‘Honey, you can’t go on like this.’

He shut his eyes and said through his teeth, ‘Don’t call me honey.’

‘Look, speaking as a psychologist –’

‘I’m not one of your patients!’

She bit her lip. ‘Okay, as your, um, friend then. The way you’ve been acting is not healthy. You need to let go.’

‘Don’t you think I want to?’ he threw at her. ‘When Kathryn was diagnosed with cancer we’d only been married a year. We decked out the nursery because she was pregnant.’

She gasped. ‘Where, where is . . .?’

‘Where do you think?!’ he bit out. This time she did move towards him, reaching for his hand. But he moved out of her reach and headed back to the bench, sitting down again.

He drew in a shuddering breath. ‘She took three years to die. Not that I grudge that time. But it took every drop of tolerance I had left in me.’

She sat down beside him again and he looked at her this time. Eye to eye. Nose to nose. Like she was the vessel into which he was pouring all his suffering. The air was sucked from her lungs. Charlotte had never felt so bereft, so enveloped deep in a chasm of grief. No wonder he was the way he was. He’d lost the two most important people in his life and his unborn child as well. How could she blame him for looking at the world he had left with contempt?

Like the Tin Man in
The Wizard of Oz
, beneath his hard metal exterior he was so empty, so sad and in so desperate need of a heart.

She stretched out her hand and laid her palm against his face, brushing her thumb across his cheekbone. He froze and the air around them thickened like caramel. With all the gentleness she could muster, she leaned in and kissed him.

It wasn’t meant to be sexual. It was a kiss of comfort. Of compassion. Of deep empathy.

Despite the rigidness of his body, his lips melted against hers like butter. Soft and sublime, the brush of their noses made a lump form in her throat. Her fingers moved into his hair, playing with small locks behind his ears. He lifted his own hand and cradled her cheek in his palm. And for a few fragile seconds, they remained in this calm, safe world of gentle understanding.

Then everything changed.

His mouth slanted over hers in a manner that was entirely unchaste. She felt engulfed – like a boat out at sea, hit by a wave. Nothing prepared her for the rush of desire or the shock of longing.

She laid a hand on his chest, bracing herself against these sudden and unstoppable feelings. But instead of slowing down, he took it as an invitation, scooping her onto his lap as effortlessly as if he were picking up a child.

Charlotte gasped as he crushed her to him. His hands on her thigh and behind her neck demanded a response, which she gave wholeheartedly.

A splash broke them apart almost as if they’d been doused with water themselves. It was the rest of the group returning from the diving lesson. Grimly, Mark stood up, taking her with him, before setting her firmly on her feet.

‘Mark –’ she began.

But he shot her a look so formidable she broke off.

‘This time, Ms Templeton, you’ve gone too far.’

She gazed at him incredulously. ‘
I’ve
gone too far?!’
He
was the one who’d pulled
her
onto his lap.

But Mark wasn’t staying to listen to her protests. He grabbed his T-shirt from the bench and walked out, leaving her standing there seething. Of all the . . .

She walked over to her dress, which was hanging on the wall, trying to ignore the knowing looks she was getting from the other divers emerging from the water. Grabbing it off the hook, she quickly threw it over her head.

She just wanted to shake the man. This wasn’t all her!
No way.

Maybe it was now impossible to ignore the fact that she had the hots for the most unapproachable, unaccommodating man in the state. Yes, shame on her! But it wasn’t entirely a one-sided affliction either. She knew instinctively that he was just as drawn to her. Couldn’t he take responsibility for his own actions?

It was still a while before lunch so she went back up to the sun deck to stew about it.

For a long time now, she had fought her attraction to Barnes Inc’s most intimidating project manager. Firstly for the business, secondly because he was married and thirdly because the thought of entering into a serious relationship with anyone (let alone a man as arrogant as Mark Crawford) was as scary as entering a lion’s cage with a piece of meat strapped to her chest.

The first and second reasons no longer held much sway but the last one certainly did. She may be attracted to the man but she didn’t like him. He was very complicated. Too complicated for someone like her, whose life was already filled with psychologically damaged people.

Besides, after that earth-shattering kiss he’d more or less told her to get lost. She gritted her teeth. Her luck with men certainly hadn’t improved over the years, that was for sure.

She stood there gazing out at the ocean and made the decision to hold onto her dignity and stay out of his way. The decision only strengthened when she went to meet Emily and Will for lunch and saw him enter the buffet dining room.

‘Oh crap,’ said Will. ‘Do you think we should ask him to join us? He doesn’t appear to be with anyone.’

‘Really?’ Emily wrung her hands. ‘What on earth are we going to talk about with him?’

Charlotte purposely turned her back as his gaze met hers across the room and made haste to reassure her friends. ‘I don’t see how we’re under any obligation to say anything to him.’

‘Are you sure?’ Emily wrinkled her brow. ‘The last thing we want to do is cause offence.’ She shot a glance at Will. ‘Remember what happened to us at work last time? I got spark testing and you got a thousand and one TQs.’

‘He’s very good at punishing people.’ Will nodded grimly.

Charlotte was beginning to get a little desperate; if these two cowards invited him over, she’d be stuck with him and his attitude for the rest of the afternoon. ‘Well, I don’t see how he has any right in this case. After all, you’re not at work, are you? It’s your day off. It’s
my day off
.’ She lifted her chin defiantly as Emily tried to cut her off. ‘No, I gotta be honest here. The very last person I want to have lunch with is Mark Crawford.’

‘Good to know, Ms Templeton.’

Oh shit.

She spun around, trying to control the wince on her face as she found him standing right behind her. Despite all previous resolutions her heart immediately knocked itself out against her ribcage at his close proximity.

A man like him didn’t deserve to be so good-looking. Even so, he did appear a little pale.

As though to echo her thoughts, Will spoke up. ‘Are you okay, Mark? You don’t look too well.’

‘To be honest, I think I’m a little seasick.’

‘I’ve heard they have ginger tablets in the first-aid office on the lower deck,’ Emily suggested helpfully. ‘Perhaps you could go ask for some. Might make you feel a bit better.’

‘Or perhaps you’d like to sit outside?’ Will recommended. ‘The fresh air might settle down the nausea.’

Mark turned to Charlotte, his all-seeing gaze seeming to scorch her face. ‘And what about you, Ms Templeton? Don’t you have any suggestions that might help get rid of me?’

She raised her eyebrows and then said tightly, ‘I wouldn’t want to
go too far
again.’

His face closed, his mouth hardened. ‘I see.’ He turned back to her companions. ‘To be honest, I find I’m not in the least bit hungry. Rest easy, I will not be burdening any of you with my company.’

On these clipped words, he turned and left them. His dignified exit almost made her retract her biting remark and call him back. He’d been through so much and lost a great deal. Was it really his fault that he didn’t know how to handle human compassion when it was aimed in his direction?

But the words dried on her lips. How was it her responsibility to be balm to his wounds? Especially when he had nothing but contempt for her efforts.

‘Wow.’ Emily raised her eyebrows. ‘I can’t work out whether we dodged a bullet or took one in the throat.’

Will had his eyes on her, however, and she blushed under his steady gaze. She coughed into a fist. ‘Who knows? Who cares? Let’s eat.’

Charlotte made a beeline for the buffet and filled her plate but wasted most of it. The food, so succulent and fresh, only tasted like dust in her mouth. She was too distracted thinking about Mark sitting all alone on the sun deck sucking a ginger pill.

Why do I feel guilty? This is not my fault!

‘Do you think we should check on him?’ Emily asked when lunch was over. ‘I mean, what if he really is sick?’

This time she didn’t protest and they went up to the sun deck to discover that Mark and a number of others had already left the pontoon via helicopter. Just as well. She didn’t know if she could deal with another shot of emotional adrenaline.

Their own ferry wasn’t leaving for another hour, so they killed the time sitting on the side of the pontoon on the lower deck, chatting and snorkelling intermittently. If she didn’t know any better she would have to say Emily and Will seemed relieved to be back in her company. She had to wonder whether something had occurred between them while she was gone. But after the lesson she had learned on her dive that afternoon, she wasn’t going to start prying into their personal affairs. She kept conversation topics neutral, although she did tell them about Mark’s job offer and her acceptance.

‘I just hope I haven’t lost it all by my comment at lunchtime,’ she added sourly.
Not to mention the kiss beforehand!

Will grinned. ‘I wouldn’t worry. If you don’t join our team how can he punish you slowly? It’s in his best interests.’

Fabulous.

As it turned out, Will wasn’t far wrong. When she got home that evening, Luke handed her an A4 envelope.

‘Some guy from Barnes Inc dropped this off this afternoon.’

With furrowed brow, she ripped it open and looked at the document in surprise. It was an employment contract with a note attached.

I’ll see you tomorrow around 4pm.

‘What is it, Lottie?’ Luke asked.

She looked up uncertainly. ‘I’ve been offered a job as a counsellor.’

‘What?’

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