Shy Innocent In The Spotlight by Melanie Milburne
CHAPTER TEN
ELSPETHTOOKTHEtray out to the terrace where the rising moon was casting a silvery glow across the landscape. An owl hooted its melancholy notes from a tree nearby, frogs started a throbbing chorus from the pond in the garden. The night air was sweet and fragrant with the scent of jasmine and lavender and some other exotic perfume she couldn’t identify.
She placed the tray on the wrought-iron table setting and poured herself a glass of the crisp white wine. She took it with her to the edge of the terrace, where a stone balustrade separated the area from the tiered garden below. She took a sip of the wine, letting her tongue savour the taste for a moment, but even top-shelf wine couldn’t remove the taste of Mack from her mouth. He was proving every bit as addictive as the wine and she wondered how she was going to deal with the end of their fling. He hadn’t put a definitive timeline on it. They were here in the South of France for a few days. Did that mean their fling would end once they returned to the UK?
‘Here we go.’ Mack joined her on the terrace with a tray with a wheel of camembert cheese and fruit, as well as a fresh baguette. He put the tray down and handed her a side plate and a napkin. ‘Help yourself.’
Elspeth was surprised to find she was starving and came back to the table to load up her plate. She sat down and waited for him to join her. He put a small portion of cheese and fruit on his own plate and poured himself half a glass of wine and took the seat opposite her. ‘Bon appetit.’
‘Did you learn French at school?’ she asked.
‘Yes. But we also used to travel to France for summer holidays before my father died.’ A shadow passed over his face and he continued, ‘Those were happy times.’ His lips twisted. ‘After he died, it made me question everything about our lives. He always seemed happy enough with my mother and she was certainly happy with him. He was an involved father, or as much as he could be when he was home. He travelled a lot for business, or so he said.’
‘What triggered the mental-health crisis that led to his suicide?’
Mack put his glass down on the table with a thud, his expression taut. ‘My mother found out he had a mistress and a love child in another city. He’d been with her for five years. He juggled both families and his business all that time but, of course, it was never going to end well. He ran into money troubles, big troubles, and then it all came crashing down. His two lives collided.’
‘Oh...how awful that must have been for your mum. But also for his lover. What happened to her and the child? They too must have been distraught when he died.’
Mack picked up his wine glass again and swirled the contents into a tiny whirlpool, his expression still set in shadowed lines. ‘They were, especially Daisy, my half-sister. She was only four at the time. It was harrowing to see her and her mother at his funeral.’ His throat moved up and down and he continued, ‘I’ll never forget the sound of them sobbing. It was so...so raw... My mother didn’t want them there but I insisted.’ His lips twisted again. ‘I’m not sure I did the right thing by being so adamant about it. My mother was furious with me for months over it. But Daisy was just a little kid who had just lost her father. She needed closure. So did her mother, Clara.’
Elspeth leaned forward and reached for his free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘It was so good of you to insist on them being there. Of course it would have been hard for your mother and you and Fraser. But you’re right, Daisy and Clara needed to grieve too. But you were so young to have had that insight, especially when you were dealing with the shock of it all too. How on earth did you cope?’
He gave a loose-shouldered shrug. ‘Someone had to cope. No one else was up to it.’
No wonder he locked his emotions away. No wonder he was strong and capable and self-reliant. He had to be. He had trained himself to stay in control at all times and in all circumstances. It made her admire him all the more to think he had put his own feelings to one side to consider the pain and suffering of others. He had searched for the higher ground in a difficult moral dilemma and he had stuck to his principles in spite of his own grief.
‘Do you ever see them? Your half-sister and her mother?’ she asked.
Mack put his wine glass down and gave a half-smile. ‘I do, actually. Daisy’s at university now, doing architecture. She’s a bright girl. I’m really proud of all she has achieved.’
‘She wasn’t at Fraser’s wedding?’
He shook his head, his smile disappearing, a frown taking its place. ‘Sadly, no. Fraser has never shown any interest in being involved in Daisy’s life.’
‘But you’ve been a stalwart support to her and her mum all these years.’ Elspeth posed it as a statement rather than a question because she was already certain of the answer. Mack would not have rejected them. He had too good a character to do something like that. It made her feelings for him blossom all the more. Feelings she had promised herself she would keep under control. But how could she stop feeling the way she did?
‘Daisy and Clara are good people who had a bad thing happen to them. They had no idea my father had a double life. He’d kept us a secret from them just as he’d kept them a secret from us.’ He gave a rough-edged sigh and added, ‘I’ve lost count of the number of lies he must have told over the years. I thought I was close to him but sometimes I wonder if I knew him at all.’
‘You can only know someone as well as they want you to know them,’ Elspeth said. ‘We all have parts of ourselves we would rather keep hidden.’
Mack gave another slanted smile and leaned forward to brush his fingers lightly over the back of her hand where it was resting on her knee. ‘What parts of yourself do you like to keep hidden, hmm?’ His grey-blue eyes meshed with hers with a steady intensity that made something slip sideways in her stomach.
One thing Elspeth was desperate to keep hidden was her developing feelings for him. Deep feelings that had no place in a fling such as theirs. Not according to the rules—his rules. But her heart had no time for his rules, it was on its own journey. Every moment she spent with him made it harder to ignore the way she felt about him. He had all the qualities she most admired in a man: steadiness, loyalty, commitment to those he cared about, moral fortitude—the list went on. She gave a tight smile and moved her hand away. ‘My twin is the one with stuff she likes to keep hidden. I thought I was closer to her than anyone but I had no idea she had a one-night stand with your brother. She isn’t a one-night-stand type of girl. But apparently she ran into her ex-fiancé that night with his latest lover and it upset her. I’m not sure why it should have upset her so much. She was the one who jilted him. It seems a little inconsistent to be feeling jealous when he takes up with a new lover. After all, it’s been seven years. He’s probably had dozens of lovers by now.’
‘Do you think she still has feelings for him?’
Elspeth shrugged one shoulder and picked up her wine glass. ‘She says not but sometimes people lie to themselves more than other people, right?’
‘They do indeed.’ Mack leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his wine, his gaze still trained on her.
The night sounds from the garden provided a peaceful background soundtrack. Crickets had joined the croaking frogs and the tinkling of the water feature added to the peaceful ambience. She couldn’t remember a time when she had felt so close to someone other than her twin. The intimacy she and Mack had shared had enveloped her in a bubble of bliss and contentment she was loath to let go. How was she going to cope when their fling came to an end? She wished she could spend the rest of her life like this—relaxing in his easy company, her body tingling with the memory of his magical touch. But Mack wasn’t the happy-ever-after type. He was bruised by the betrayal of his father’s double life. He was wary of long-term commitment, having seen the devastation of his mother when the truth about his father’s mistress and love child had come out. It would have been a terrible shock to him, to see his beloved father in a completely different light. To lose his father in such tragic circumstances with so many issues left unresolved between them. But it didn’t mean Mack had to shy away from finding true love himself. He would make such a wonderful life partner. He would be a kind and loving and supportive father to his children. Look at the way he supported and cared for his half-sister. It showed how deeply principled he was and Elspeth couldn’t help admiring him for it.
‘Mack?’
‘Hmm?’
‘You said you would have liked to pursue a different career other than take over your father’s business interests. What was it you wanted to do?’
He put his wine glass down, his expression cast in shadowed lines. It seemed an age before he spoke, as if he was feeling compromised by talking about something he had let go a long time ago. ‘I had dreams of becoming a professional musician.’
‘What do you play?’
‘The piano.’
‘Do you still play? I didn’t see a piano at Crannochbrae and there isn’t one here.’
He gave a twisted smile. ‘The one at Crannochbrae was sold after my father died. I haven’t bothered replacing it since. I haven’t played in years.’
‘Do you miss it?’
‘Not any more.’
‘But you did?’
Something flickered through his gaze—a flash of a memory, a lingering emotion, a hint of regret. ‘For a while but I had to be practical. It’s hard to make money as a professional musician. And I had to make money, lots of money, or my family’s estate would have been lost.’
Elspeth wondered what else he had given up in order to keep his family’s assets on track. He had sacrificed his dream and his youth to protect his family as well as his father’s mistress and love child. She stood from her chair and came over to place her hand on his broad shoulder, looking deep into his eyes. ‘I think you’re amazing, Mack.’ Her voice was as whisper-soft as the light breeze that teased the nearby shrubbery.
His hand came up to encircle her wrist, his fingers warm and strong. He tugged her down to his lap, his arms going around her. His eyes moved back and forth between each of hers for endless moments, his breath catching as if he saw something in her gaze that affected him deeply. One of his hands began to stroke from between her shoulder blades to the base of her spine—long, slow, languorous strokes that triggered a sensual storm in her body. His mouth drifted closer as if in slow motion. Her breath caught in anticipation, her hands going to his broad shoulders, her heart kicking up its pace. His lips brushed hers in a barely there kiss. A feather-light touch that sent a tingle through her lips and straight to her core. He placed his mouth against hers again, firmer this time, his lips moving in a leisurely massaging motion that sent her pulse racing.
He lifted his mouth off hers, caught and held her gaze for a pulsing beat—an erotic silent interval that ramped up her need of him like a flame on dry tinder. He didn’t say a word. He simply framed her face with his hands and kissed her again—a deep and passionate kiss that sent a shower of sparks down her spine. His tongue tangled with hers in a sexy dance that made her heart beat all the harder and faster.
Finally, he eased back to look at her, his own breathing heavy. ‘I think you’re pretty amazing too.’ His voice had a rusty edge, his gaze warm and tender. So tender, she wondered if he was developing feelings for her. Or was she fooling herself? Mistaking raw passion for something else?
Elspeth traced a line around his sculptured mouth with her finger. ‘Make love to me?’
He pressed a hot hard kiss to her mouth and stood, taking her with him. ‘With pleasure,’ he said, and carried her indoors.
