There was a long, long silence.
‘Are you still there?’ he asked.
‘I’m thinking,’ she managed. ‘Hush.’
He hushed.
She thought some more.
Ouch!
Angel was dying because she’d lost her babies.
If she went back now… All it took was courage.
‘Can I do it, Dominic?’ she asked out loud; right out loud, so that people were turning to see who she was talking to. ‘Can I start over? Can I possibly let myself love again?’
There was a moment’s hush from those around her. Then,
‘Sure you can, sweetheart,’ someone told her from the other side of the table, and she realised that she had an audience.
‘Loving again is what life is all about,’ someone else said. ‘The more you love, the more you get loved.’
‘You sound like a fortune cookie,’ someone else said, and everybody laughed.
But they were with her. The people around her were smiling in sympathy. All these people-this odd assortment of random airport humanity, some of whom would have been lucky in love, but there must be others whom tragedy had hit. Somehow they’d picked themselves up and kept going, and maybe it was those who’d been hit worst who were giving her advice now.
‘I can try,’ she told the assemblage, almost defiant. ‘I can go back and think about it. Maybe it could work.’
‘Of course it’ll work.’ The farmer clearly had no idea what was happening, but he was prepared to stick in his oar in any way that sounded even vaguely optimistic.
‘I might need help,’ she said, and the middle-aged woman who’d thought she was Princess Jessica touched her arm. Clearly she was wondering if help meant leading her gently to a lunatic asylum.
‘What sort of help?’
‘I need a car,’ Jess told her. And then she took a deep breath. ‘I need to hire a car with an alpaca trailer attached. Right now.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
SHE should be driving on this side of the road. Surely?
She was back where this had all started. The road was spiralling around snow-capped mountains, with the sea crashing a hundred feet below.
As it had before.
There were mediaeval castles, ancient fishing villages, lush pastures dotted with long-haired goats and alpacas-every sight seemingly designed to take the breath away.
She was past losing breath over this scenery.
The twist she’d just taken had given her a fleeting glimpse of the home of the Alp’Azuri royal family. Built of glistening white stone, set high on the crags overlooking the sea, the castle’s high walls, its turrets and its towers looked straight out of a fairy tale.
Yeah, right. Not such a fairy tale. Raoul’s home.
But she wasn’t concentrating on Raoul’s home. Up above she’d caught a glimpse of a brilliant-yellow sports car, coming fast.
She wasn’t even going to think about what side of the road it was on this time. She was driving an ancient rent-a-heap and she was towing an even more ancient horse-trailer. She made a really big target.
Carefully she pulled off the road, onto a verge which was wider than the one she’d pulled onto when she’d crashed with Sarah. She was safe here, whatever side of the road the car was on.
The Lamborghini came around the bend fast, but not so fast to make it unsafe. It was a truly elegant sports car.
It was on the right side of the road.
It was a yellow Lamborghini.
Raoul.
The hood was down. Raoul was concentrating on the road.
Jessica’s window was also down. As the Lamborghini swept past she stared across.
Raoul flicked a glance sideways and Comte Marcel came close to getting his way after all. The Prince Regent of Alp’Azuri came really, really close to driving straight off a cliff.
Somehow he didn’t crash. Somehow Raoul managed to park, backing up until the Lamborghini was at rest beside the battered heap of junk Jess was driving. He stared across, unable to believe that he’d found her. She was looking across at him with wide, grave eyes that held an expression he couldn’t read.
‘You’ve come back,’ he said, stupidly, and she nodded.
‘I had to bring Angel.’
‘Right.’ He didn’t understand but he wasn’t arguing.
He was in his car. She was in hers. It was a thoroughly unsatisfactory arrangement which needed to be corrected immediately. It was easy enough for him to get out of his car-it was done in seconds-but that still left her.
‘Jess, will you get out of the car?’
‘Why?’
‘I want to kiss you.’
‘Um… It’s just a marriage of convenience,’ she said tentatively, mechanically, as if she wasn’t sure what she was feeling.
‘Like hell it is.’ He tugged at the door. It didn’t open. ‘You’ve locked the door.’
‘Only the passenger door opens. You have to climb over the gear stick to get in or out.’
‘Well, climb over the gear stick.’
‘Why?’
‘I told you. I want to kiss you.’
‘You’re not mad because I ran away?’
‘I’m mad because you haven’t climbed over the gear stick.’ He strode around the back of the trailer to reach the passenger door. Angel stuck her head out over the trailer gate and she pushed her nose in his neck. He jumped a foot.
‘Why is Angel here?’ He took a deep breath, regrouped and abandoned Angel. ‘No, never mind. Where were we?’ He hauled open the passenger door.
Jess was coming out feet first.
He wanted the other end.
‘Why do you want to kiss me?’ she asked, muffled by the car seat.
‘You’re my wife. I love you.’
‘You love me?’
‘Of course I love you,’ he told her. ‘Of course I do.’ She was out, and he was turning her to face him.
‘Last night…you never said you did,’ she whispered cautiously. ‘You said you might.’
‘That’s because you wouldn’t let me win at slot-cars.’ He was tugging her into his arms, holding her close. ‘I never tell anyone I love them when they won’t let me win at slot-cars.’
‘And if I let you win?’
‘Then I’ll love you forever and ever.’ He bent to kiss her-but she pushed away. Just a little.
‘Raoul…’
Laughter faded. The joy at finding her took a back step as he recognised the seriousness and the deep doubts in her voice. He heard the echo of tears and he drew back. His hands were cupping her face, his eyes were searching hers and he thought: how could he have ever thought that he might in time come to love this woman? He loved her with his whole heart. Right now.
‘Jess, you can win at slot-cars any time you want,’ he said, and he couldn’t keep his voice steady. It was doing this quaver thing that he didn’t recognise-that he couldn’t control. ‘I’ve been a fool,’ he said and in that instant any hint of levity fell away. There was only room for truth between them, and both of them knew it. ‘Jess, darling Jess, I love you now, with all my heart, with everything I have. You are my wife, Jess, whether or not you want to stay with me. But I so hope you do. I do so hope you can. When I thought you’d left me… Oh, Jess.’
‘I don’t…’
‘It’s Dominic, isn’t it?’ he asked, and his hands caressed her face, willing the pain to disappear from her eyes. ‘Jess, loving again isn’t a betrayal of Dominic. How can it be?’
‘I don’t know,’ she whispered and he heard the agony of indecision. ‘It just seems…wrong.’
‘I know. It’s far too soon.’ He was seeking desperately to understand her pain. He was smoothing her face, tracing her spent tears. Loving her with his whole heart. ‘For you to lose your baby and then have us thrust on you; it’s far too fast. But it’s happened. Magically it’s happened, my love.’ He hesitated. ‘Surely Dominic wouldn’t want your world to stay grey.’