‘Connor said he’d never forgive himself if he let the chance for us to be together slip through his fingers,’ Keegan steamrollered on.
‘Let’s not go over the top.’ Connor gave a sickly smile. ‘You make me sound like a saint.’
She laughed but held on to him. ‘No, not a saint, Connor. We both know you’re not perfect but you are very single-minded.’ She threw a triumphant glance at Lottie. ‘Once he’s made his mind up, nothing will stand in his way. I think that’s why I fell for him at the very start; I recognised his passion to go for what he believes in and never go back on his word.’
‘Keegan!’ Connor snapped. ‘I’m sure Lottie’s far too busy to hang around listening to our mutual admiration society and I’m sure she’s heard a thousand loved-up couples and we’re no different. Now, come on. I don’t want to end up in a huge queue to get out of this place.’
Practically dragging her away, he left Lottie wondering if Keegan was worried about Connor’s actual commitment. Was she sending out a warning to him, that he’d better not change his mind? Keegan wasn’t stupid. She might have picked up on the ‘signals’ between Lottie and Connor and interpreted them as Lottie harbouring a crush on Connor.
She had to face him tomorrow and then hopefully, he’d finally leave her alone.
Chapter Eighteen
When Connor was twenty minutes late Lottie had begun to wonder if he was going to turn up at all. Her hopes were dashed when he rapped at the door.
His first words didn’t make her feel any more comfortable about the purpose of his visit.
‘Sorry. I had trouble escaping from Keegan.’ He pulled a face. ‘She was running late for her hair consultation.’
‘You’d better come inside.’
‘Thanks.’ He banged his palms together. ‘I’ve forgotten how bloody cold this place can be. It’s forty degrees in Sydney today.’
‘You must miss it. Keegan too. When are you meant to be going back to work?’
‘January … although there’s a possibility that we might be able to move back to the UK after this sabbatical’s over. She’s put in for a transfer to the London office and I’m being headhunted by another insurance company down south.’
‘I see,’ Lottie said, avoiding any comment that might have sounded like she was glad he’d at least be in the same country as her.
He hugged her. ‘Thanks, Lottie. I know this has been hard for you.’
His embrace lasted a little too long for comfort. She didn’t want any more reminders of what it had been like when things were good between them, of walks around the lake, and nights by the fire – and Cornwall. She’d tried to avoid looking at him too much before. Now they were alone in her little cottage, and so close, she couldn’t avoid focusing on him. Lottie thought again how his life in the sun, his gym habit and on-trend clothes had given him an air of sophistication that had taken his quiet good looks into the realm of handsome.
‘I wish I could make it up to you,’ he said.
She snapped to her senses. ‘I don’t need you to make anything up to me.’
‘Still … I …’ Seeming lost for words, he glanced around. ‘Nice little place you’ve got here.’
‘Yes, it comes with the job.’ She was determined to nip any idea she was ready for a cosy chat in the bud.
‘Hmm.’ He lounged back on the sofa. ‘Any chance of a cuppa to warm me up?’
Lottie hesitated, surprised that he wanted to linger any longer than he needed to.
‘Tea or coffee?’ she said politely, reminding herself he was a client.
‘Tea. Builder’s with sugar.’ He laughed. ‘Don’t tell Keegan, though. She’s got me on a keto diet thingy until the wedding. I’m only supposed to have herbal stuff that tastes like badger’s wee.’ He threw her a disarming smile.
While making herself a coffee, she quickly made him a drink, squashing the teabag against the side of the cup the way he used to like it. Then she reminded herself that she no longer had to make his tea ‘just how he liked it’.
It was surreal to have him enter her life in this intimate setting, turning back the clock to a time that should be long gone. She could barely cope with him on public territory at Firholme, but him violating her home – her new home – in this way, was a step too far. She resolved to get rid of him as quickly as she could.
He’d shed his jacket and was lounging on the settee, one leg crossed over the other, a newspaper spread out on the spare seat, open at the sports pages. A creeping sense of déjà vu sent a chill up her spine. It was exactly as if he’d never moved out.
Tensing up, she held out the mug. ‘There’s your tea. Now, what’s this all about?’
He closed the paper before taking the drink. ‘Like I said, I wanted to see you face to face. Thing is … I’m not sure I should have come here.’
Lottie was even more frustrated. ‘You can’t talk in riddles like this. You must have wanted something. This is driving me mad. The secrecy and the subterfuge. I’m not cut out for it.’
‘You always played everything straight. That’s what I liked about you.’ Putting down his drink, he moved a little closer to her, and she caught a whiff of his aftershave; a different one from the brand he used to wear. ‘I did care … I swear I did.’ Before she realised, he pushed a tendril of hair off her face. Lottie froze, caught up in a moment that had catapulted her back to another, simpler time. ‘I deeply regret the hurt I caused you. You didn’t deserve it.’
There was a tenderness in his voice that she’d not heard before, perhaps not even since the moment he’d got down on one
