But now, as he reminded himself of that, his panic magnified.
He should end it now. But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t have let any of this happen and yet he still couldn’t resist, still couldn’t refuse himself these moments.
He carried two bowls of the risotto up to the tower. She was curled in a chair up there, looking out at the coastline as the sky began to darken and the beacon began its work. Her smile was quick when she saw him and he desperately needed distraction before he sank to his knees and spilled out the rest of his soul to her. Somehow she knew. She made light jokes about the juxtaposition of cheap candy and rich chocolate. And in the end there was nothing he could do but haul her close again. He was determined to expend every ounce of this desire. But no matter how many hours he spent with her in his arms it deepened still. Even when, beyond exhaustion, he still wanted her close.
It seemed the guy could do everything. He wasn’t just strong and skilled, he was thoughtful—treating her to gourmet cakes and trashy take-out food, then cooking her a beautiful dinner. Making her move, making her laugh. And finding out the heartache he’d suffered had only made her appreciate his strength even more. The loneliness and the rejection that had given him such drive made her ache to her bones.
But he’d built a world for himself. He had not just a career but a whole company and ambition beyond. He’d made this his sanctuary, his security. She understood he needed freedom and independence. But in reality, he’d cemented his own isolation. Having glimpsed his background, she understood why. The problem—and it was her problem—was that she’d fallen in love with him. Deeply, completely in love with him.
She waited for a while—letting herself float through the next two days—hoping this emotion was just a wave of hype and hormones, a feeling that would pass like any other given enough space and time. Jade was used to managing emotions, she knew how to live with deep ones, how to keep them secret, how to mask them.
But this? This was too big, too raw, too unwieldy. She couldn’t contain this; couldn’t stop this; couldn’t cope with it for too much longer. And while she knew he wanted her, he didn’t need her. And she certainly didn’t think he loved her. He was too controlled for that.
And even if he did, this couldn’t go anywhere.
She needed to do what was best not just for her country. But for him too. And in this instance, yes, her own desires had to come behind his.
She couldn’t ask him to live a life of restriction and duty in the way she had to. She couldn’t ask him to sacrifice so much. He’d resent her eventually—as her mother had resented her father. And no way could they maintain a long-distance relationship either. She’d lived through separation with Juno and it was too hard to have someone you loved so far away for so much of the time. It would hurt her heart too badly.
So it was better to be over completely. And as soon as possible.
The conversation between them stayed light, but terribly fragile. It was as if he, too, was determined to make the most of these moments here. They walked on the beach, laughed about little unimportant things. Mostly they made love like wild animals every moment they could.
And the next morning, it happened.
‘Do you mind if we don’t drive back to Manhattan?’ Alvaro said.
Her bruised heart lifted. ‘What did you want to do?’
Did he want to escape somewhere else? Or stay here for ever? Either way she’d have said yes in a heartbeat.
‘It’s faster if we fly,’ he explained.
Her heart plummeted. So stupid. She’d known it was coming. Because despite their physical connection, she’d felt him pulling back personally. She had too. They’d had no discussion of his past since Christmas Day, not hers either.
Light and easy. Remember? Light and easy and so very fragile.
It wasn’t a long drive to the nearest town and a helicopter charter service there. It wasn’t long in the air either. But every second passed like sixty—amplifying the time she had to think. And all the while certainty sank like a lead stone in the lake of her churning stomach acid.
There was only one course of action. She had to go home. She had to say goodbye to him now. Anything difficult was best done sticking-plaster-style—ripping it off in one swift motion. In this case, she decided, it was the only way.
From the helicopter port, Alvaro collected a car. She didn’t know if he was planning to take her back to his apartment or not, but she knew she had to speak up. Now.
‘Can you take me back to Juno’s?’ she asked as he started the engine. ‘I have a couple of things there that I need.’
‘Sure, we can go now. It won’t take long.’
His easy-going accommodation of her request made her grit her teeth. The drive was familiar now. Her heart raced but she remained cool on the exterior.
As soon as he’d pulled over opposite Juno’s apartment she drew in a deep breath.
‘Alvaro, I’m going home.’
‘You are home.’
‘I mean to Monrova. Tonight.’
He killed the engine and swivelled to face her, his eyes wide. ‘You’re leaving New York tonight?’ He looked stunned. ‘I thought you had another couple of days—’
‘I need to get back to Monrova. Something has...’
She trailed off; she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him completely.
‘Something has...?’ he prompted. ‘What something? It’s not like you’ve had any calls—’ He gazed at her intently.
She glimpsed emotion in his face. A flash of anger, swiftly smoothed by determined acceptance.
‘That’s it?’ he said. ‘That’s all you can say?’
But she saw the bitterness of self-blame in his eyes. It was as if he’d expected it all along. And of course he would—she was always going to leave.
But not this soon.
They both knew that. And he took the reason, she realised, to be himself. That this was somehow his fault. She understood why he’d think it—it was what she would think too. Two people who’d been hurt before. Who’d blamed themselves before.
Regret burned the back of her throat. Too late she realised she’d just hurt him. In a way that hadn’t needed to happen. He’d done nothing wrong; it wasn’t him. Suddenly she couldn’t leave without telling him her truth. Couldn’t let him think she didn’t care. Because she did.
Alvaro had been right when he’d said she needed to put herself first sometimes and say what she wanted. But really, he’d meant in sex. He’d not meant for them to become emotionally intimate. But they had. And in that too she needed to be brave.