little patient, there would be happiness soon.
‘It you presented yourself as a stuffed dummy full of virtue I think I’d just laugh,’ she admitted. ‘And then I’d send you on your way, because I’d have no use for you.’
‘For the stuffed-dummy part or the virtue?’ he asked lightly.
‘Guess.’
He smiled, but then his smile faded as emotion swept him.
‘Oh, Ferne, don’t change,’ he said desperately. ‘Promise me you’ll never change, and then maybe I can dig deep in myself and find a little courage. Only it’s going to take more than just a little. It’s going to take a lot to show you myself as I really am, stupid and pig-headed, blind to what matters.’
‘Stop,’ she said, putting her fingers lightly over his mouth. ‘Don’t run yourself down.’
He didn’t argue, just took hold of her fingers and moved his lips against them. His eyes were almost desperate. She stroked his face, willing him to take the last step that would join their hearts in the closeness that only honesty could bring.
‘Dante,’ she whispered. ‘Please-please.’
Suddenly he gripped her tightly, drawing her to him and burying his face against her.
‘Help me,’ he said huskily.
She held him eagerly, flooded with emotion that made it impossible to speak. His carefully constructed armour was cracking, revealing the vulnerability he’d striven so hard to hide, and she wanted only to enfold him, to offer him the help he’d finally sought. Now the moment had come, she was almost dizzy with joy and gratitude.
‘What’s this?’ he said, touching her face. ‘You’re crying.’
‘No, I’m not, not really. I’m just-’
‘Don’t cry.’ He was lightly brushing her tears away. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘I’m not upset.’
He took her face between his hands, looking down at her tenderly before dropping his mouth to hers. She kissed him back eagerly, trying to tell him silently that she was his in any way he wanted. If only they could take the next step.
‘I’m so lucky to have you,’ he said. ‘If only…’
‘If only…?’ she echoed wistfully.
‘If only I were worth it. There’s so much I want to say to you, but not just now. My head’s in a muddle-as usual,’ he finished, turning it into a joke.
But she wouldn’t let him get away with that.
‘I don’t think this is your usual muddle,’ she persisted.
‘No, I’m getting worse. Be a little patient with me.’
‘All right,’ she said, trying not to sound sad.
‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said. ‘We’ve got a long drive tomorrow.’
She was stunned, hardly able to believe that the emotion of a moment ago had vanished to nothing. They had come so close, and to see the prize snatched away at the last minute was hard. But she let him lead her unprotesting to bed. One incautious word from her, and the chance could be lost for ever.
He pulled the clothes up over her and got in beside her, holding her briefly before kissing her goodnight. Then he turned over and went to sleep.
She lay staring into the darkness, trying to come to terms with what had happened. It was disappointing to sense his withdrawal, yet she felt she understood. He’d meant to tell her-she was convinced-but he’d backed off, perhaps appalled by so nearly abandoning the caution of a lifetime.
Now she must be patient and it would surely happen, for there had been something in his manner that had never been there before, a new trust and tenderness. His eyes had shone with a different light, and somewhere Ferne had sensed a door opening.
How long had she loved him-right from the start? The signs had been there when he’d gone into the burning building and she, who’d coolly photographed Sandor’s betrayal, had forgotten everything but Dante’s danger.
She’d deceived herself, believing she was only doing this for Hope, when the truth was she yearned to be with Dante. How could she ever have imagined that it was possible to be with this man night and day and not love him?
The sadness had been to love him and hide from him, as he was hiding from her. But now that would soon be over, and she was feeling happy again as she fell asleep.
Next day they drove miles to a villa that was going to take all their joint skills to sell. But the challenge was exhilarating, and they returned home in a triumphant mood. On the drive back, Dante was in high spirits.
‘We’ll stop for a meal,’ he said. ‘But only a quick one. Let’s not be late home.’
He said nothing about the day before, but there was something in the happy atmosphere that told her everything was different. He’d come to the edge of saying the words that would bind them closer, that it was almost as though they had already been said. Looking up, she saw him watching her with a contented smile that told her she was right.
When they reached home there was work to do, and they both settled down at computers.
‘It’s coming on really well,’ he said, looking over her shoulder. ‘How did I ever sell houses without you?’
‘You don’t have to butter me up,’ she said sleepily. ‘You’re stuck with me, whether you want me or not.’
‘That’s what I like to hear. Why don’t you go to bed?’
‘I think I will.’ She shut down her computer.
‘Leave it,’ Dante said. ‘I’ll put it away with mine.’
She kissed him and drifted away, yawning.
He watched her go, wondering if she would think it strange that tonight he didn’t come to bed with her. In fact he was hatching a plan-reprehensible, no doubt, but he didn’t think she’d mind too much when she found out.
She had never done as she’d promised and emailed him the pictures he had taken of her. Now he proposed to conduct a raid and claim them. Waiting until he could see that she’d turned the bedroom light off, he switched her computer back on.
He located the folder without difficulty, and within moments was looking at the pictures he’d taken. He’d thought he knew them, but now they struck him with new force. So much had happened since then. He hadn’t meant to grow so close to her, but it had happened despite his resolutions. Perhaps it was fate. He, a man who believed in fate, had to believe in this possibility.
Now he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t seen her clearly before. Entranced by her loveliness, he’d overlooked the strength and honesty in her face. It was this, as much as her passionate body, that had broken down his defences, so that only a day ago he’d been on the verge of telling her things he’d never told another living soul, things he’d sworn never to tell anyone in his life-however long or short that life might be.
He’d come to the very edge, then backed off. But not very far. The thought was still there in his mind that if he plucked up courage he could tell her everything, beg her to risk the future with him. If not her, then nobody, for there was nobody else in the world that he trusted as much.
She was smiling at him from the screen, her eyes wide and clear, offering hope where there had been none before, a future where there had been only blankness.
Quickly he connected the laptop to his portable printer and printed out a copy of the picture.
That was enough for now. Tomorrow he would confess what he’d done and they would laugh together, revelling in their private world where nobody else was allowed, and where they kept each other safe.
He was about to log off when he noticed the file called ‘ZZZ’.
Through her light sleep Ferne was vaguely aware of the sound of the printer coming from the next room, then a long silence, until she heard the printer again. When it ended there was another silence that dragged on and on. Without knowing why, she was suddenly filled with fear.
Moving slowly, she left the bed at the same moment that Dante entered the room. Strangely, he too was moving slowly, as though struggling to recover from some terrible blow. He switched on the light, and she saw he was holding some papers, which he tossed onto the bed. She drew a sharp breath as she recognised some of the files about his condition that she’d stored on her computer.
At the sight of Dante’s face filled with cold rage, her heart nearly failed her. It was the face of a stranger.
‘I printed them off your computer,’ he said. ‘What are they?’
‘Just-something I’ve been reading.’
