It was nothing to do with him. Nothing! He wasn’t going near.
She was living right next door to him. With her dog who needed detangling.
He’d yelled at her. Because she’d picked up a few rocks.
He’d behaved appallingly.
Why?
He knew why. And it wasn’t the memory of his mother. It wasn’t the dog. It was more.
It couldn’t be more. He didn’t want more, and more wasn’t going to happen.
It was dark. Time to head home.
Maybe he could take Jem’s old brushes across to her. A peace offering.
That wasn’t more. It was sensible. It felt … okay.
But when he got home there wasn’t a light on, apart from the security light he kept on in the shared porch.
Were she and the dog asleep?
She’d slept this afternoon. He’d seen her, curled on the hearth with the dog.
With Horse.
They were nothing to do with him.
He glanced at the gap in the stone wall. Sensed the faint echo of Nikki. And Horse.
By his side … Shades of Jem.
He was going nuts. The hit on his head had obviously been harder than he thought. Ghosts were everywhere, even to the feel of Jem beside him. Jem had always been with him, on the boat, under his bed, by the fire, a heartbeat by his side.
Whoa, he was maudlin. Get over it.
Disoriented, he found himself heading for the beach. A man could stare at the sea in the moonlight. Find some answers?
But the only answers he found on the beach were Nikki and Horse.
CHAPTER FIVE
THEY were sitting just above the high water mark, right near the spot where Horse had stood and howled last night. Gabe saw them straight away, unmistakable, the silhouette of the slight woman and the huge, rangy dog framed against a rising moon.
Maybe he’d better call out. Warn her of his approach. Who knew what she was carrying tonight?
‘Nikki!’
She turned. So did Horse, uttering a low threatening growl that suddenly turned into an unsure whine. Maybe the dog was as confused as he was.
‘Gabe?’ She couldn’t see him—he was still in shadows. She sounded scared.
‘It’s Gabe.’ He said it quickly, before she fired the poker.
‘Are you still angry?’
Deep breath. Get this sorted. Stop being an oaf. ‘I need to apologise,’ he said, walking across the beach to them. ‘I was out of line. Whether you keep Horse is none of my business. And snapping about the stones was nuts. Can we blame it on the hit on the head and move on?’
‘Sure,’ she said, but she sounded wary. ‘I did hit you. I guess I can afford to cut you some slack.’
‘Thank you,’ he said gravely. ‘Are you two moon watching?’
‘Horse refuses to settle.’ She shifted along the log she was perched on so there was room for him as well. ‘He whined and whined, so finally I figured we might as well come down here and see that no one’s coming. So he can finally settle into our new life.’
‘Your new life?’ he said cautiously, sorting wheat from chaff. ‘You really intend changing your life?’
‘My life is changed anyway,’ she said. ‘That’s what comes of falling for a king-sized rat. It’s messed with my serenity no end.’
Don’t ask. It was none of his business.
But she wasn’t expecting him to ask. She was staring out to sea, talking almost to herself, and her self containment touched him as neediness never could.
Since when had he ever wanted to be involved?
Horse nuzzled his hand. He patted the dog and said, ‘You fell for a king-sized rat?’
Had he intended to ask? Surely not.
‘My boss.’
He had no choice now.
‘You want to tell me about it?’
She had no intention of telling him. She hadn’t told anyone. The guy she’d thought she loved was married.
Her parents knew she’d split with Jonathan but both her parents were on their third or fourth partner; splits were no big deal. And in the office, to her friends, she’d hung onto her pride. Her pride seemed like all she had left.
But here, now, sitting on the beach with Horse between them, pride and privacy no longer seemed important.
So she told him. Bluntly. Dispassionately, as if it had happened to someone else, not to her.
‘Jonathan Ostler of Ostler Engineering,’ she said, her voice cool and hard. ‘International engineering designer. Smooth, rich, efficient. Hates mixing business with pleasure. My boss. He asked me out four years ago. Six months later we were sharing an apartment but no one in the office was to know. Jonathan thought it’d mess with company morale. So … In the office we were so businesslike you wouldn’t believe. If we were coming to work at the same time we’d split up a block away so we’d never arrive together. He addressed me as Nikki but I addressed him as Mr Ostler. Strictly formal.’
‘Sounds weird.’
‘Yes, but I could see his point,’ she said. ‘Sleeping with the boss is hardly the way to endear yourself to the rest of the staff, and Jon was overseas so much it wasn’t an effort. A few people knew we were together but not many. So there I was, dream job, dream guy, dream apartment, four years. Dreaming weddings, if you must know. Starting to be anxious he didn’t want to settle, but too stupidly in love to push it. Then two months ago there was an explosion in a factory where we’d been overseeing changes. The call came in the middle of the night—hysterical—our firm could be sued for millions. Jon caught the dawn plane to Düsseldorf with minutes to spare, and in the rush he left his mobile phone sitting on his—on our—bedside table. The next day our office was crazy. The Düsseldorf situation was frightening and the phone was going nuts. Jonathan’s phone. Finally, I answered it. It was Jonathan’s wife. In London. Their eight-year-old had been in a car accident. Please could I tell her where Jon was.’
‘Ouch.’
‘I coped,’ she said, a tinge of pride warming her voice as she remembered that ghastly moment. ‘I made sympathetic noises. I made sure Jonathan Junior wasn’t in mortal danger, I got the details. Then I left a message with the manager СКАЧАТЬ