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It was all such a mess—and far too long and boring a story for a celebratory lunch.
She shook her head. ‘Later.’ Reaching over, she picked up Alicia’s hand and turned it over so that the diamond engagement ring glinted beneath the lights. ‘Right now I want to hear all about how you two got together.’
Watching her friend talk, Mimi found herself relaxing. There was something so innocent and hopeful about Alicia. Philip was right. She did make the world a better place, and she wanted to make the world better for everyone too.
‘So, how many people are coming to the wedding?’ she asked as the waiters cleared the table.
Philip frowned. ‘We’ve tried to keep the numbers down to about two hundred.’
Mimi almost laughed. But of course—their wedding wasn’t just a private exchange of vows. It was a huge event in the social calendar.
She cleared her throat. ‘I’m guessing you’re going to have it at Fairbourne?’
Before her life had been turned upside down she’d been a regular guest at Fairbourne, the Caines’ fabled ivy-clad Georgian manor. She could still remember her first visit—how dazzled she’d been by the grandeur and beauty of the house and the almost ludicrous perfection of everything in it.
Although not nearly so dazzled as she’d been when the beautiful, dark-eyed heir to the estate had kissed her all the way to his bedroom, closing the door and pulling off his clothes first, then hers.
Her stomach clenched.
She felt her fingers twitch against the smooth white tablecloth. Bautista looked sexy as hell clothed. He had the kind of lean, muscular physique and sculpted body that allowed him to wear anything and make it look better than anyone else could. But naked—
Her mouth was suddenly dry. Naked, he was just beautiful, gorgeous…all endless, smooth golden skin and curving muscles.
An image of Bautista stretching out over her flickered before her eyes and she blinked it away as she saw Alicia shake her head, her soft brown eyes suddenly bright with tears.
‘Oh, Lissy, what is it?’
Philip took Alicia’s hand. ‘Bob had a viral infection at Christmas and he’s been a bit low since. That’s why we’ve brought the date forward to May.’
Mimi nodded, trying to calm her beating heart. She’d met Alicia’s father, financier and philanthropist Robert Caine, many times, and he’d always been a generous, gentle and welcoming host. She felt her stomach knot with guilt. Of course that had been before his already frail health had deteriorated following her stepfather and her uncle’s betrayal.
‘And it’s why we decided to have the wedding in Argentina,’ Philip added. ‘It’ll be autumn there, so warm but not humid.’
Alicia gave him a shaky smile, her face softening. ‘And Basa has very sweetly offered to let us use his estancia in Patagonia for the actual ceremony, and let guests stop over at his house in Buenos Aires en route.’
Mimi’s mouth curved upwards automatically, responding to the joy in her friend’s voice, but for a moment she couldn’t breathe or speak. Alicia’s words were jangling inside her head like the notes on an out-of-tune piano, but she heard herself say quite normally, ‘Oh, Lissy, that sounds wonderful.’
The waiters arrived with dessert and, glancing down at her hibiscus jelly and rum baba, Mimi suddenly felt sick. She’d known all along when she’d accepted Alicia’s invitation to lunch that it was only a matter of time before Bautista’s name came up in the conversation, but even so she was shocked by how much it hurt to hear it spoken out loud.
Was that how he felt when he heard her name?
Did he wince inside?
And if so was it with shame at how he’d treated her?
Or, given Charlie and Raymond’s actions, was he just relieved that he’d called time before they’d actually slept together?
She doubted that having sex with the stepdaughter of one of the men who had almost ruined his family would be high up on his list of personal goals.
‘It’s the most beautiful place, Mimi. There’s this huge expanse of sky, and the mountains in the distance, and soft golden grass in every direction.’ Alicia smiled shyly. ‘Basa says it’s the first step to heaven.’
Her heart stilled in her chest.
No, that had been the touch of his lips on hers, she thought, heat sweeping over her skin at the sudden sharp memory of what it felt like to be kissed by Bautista.
Her hand shaking slightly, she picked up her glass and drank some wine in a hard swallow. ‘I’m so looking forward to it, Lissy,’ she said, with a conviction she didn’t feel. ‘It’s going to be the most beautiful day. But is there anything I can do? I mean, I’m sure you’ve got heaps of people helping…’
‘Actually, there is one thing we were going to ask you…’
There was a beat of silence as Philip and Alicia glanced at one another.
‘Really?’ Mimi leaned forward. ‘So ask me?’
‘We’re going to have a photographer.’ Philip grimaced. ‘It’s not really our kind of thing, all those formal staged shots, but Bob and my parents are a little old-fashioned that way.’ He hesitated. ‘But what we’d really like is for you to make a film for us.’
‘Something personal,’ Alicia said quickly. ‘You know—like you did at school, with us just talking and being ourselves.’ Her mouth trembled. ‘You have such a gift, Mimi. You capture a moment and hold it for ever, and I thought you might be able to do that for us.’
Mimi blinked. Her hands were shaking and her throat felt thick. ‘You’d trust me to do that?’ she said slowly.
They both nodded.
Meeting her gaze, Alicia gave her a lopsided smile. ‘I’ve trusted you with my life—or have you forgotten playing lacrosse against St Margaret’s?’
Mimi grinned. ‘It’s seared into my brain.’
Glancing over at her friend, she suddenly felt dizzy. More than anything, she wanted to say yes. She loved Alicia, and what better way to prove that than by making her shy, modest friend the star of her own film?
But she knew Alicia too well, and without a doubt this was her way of showing her some support. She didn’t need to do that—not publicly, anyway, and especially not on her wedding day. It was enough for her that Alicia had always been such a loyal, true ally.
‘Oh, Lissy, I’m just an amateur, really. And this is your big day.’ She was trying to gather herself together.
‘Isn’t that exactly what I said she’d say?’ Glancing at Philip, Alicia shook her head. ‘I wish I could make you believe in yourself like I believe in you.’
Mimi rolled her eyes. ‘You’re a good friend, and it’s a lovely idea, but you’re biased.’
‘I knew you’d say that too.’
Alicia smiled, and something in her smile snagged a tripwire in Mimi’s head.
‘And you’re right—I am biased. But it doesn’t matter because it wasn’t my idea. Or Philip’s,’ she added as Mimi glanced at her fiancé. ‘It was Basa’s.’
Mimi froze. Her heartbeat was booming in her ears so loudly she was surprised everyone in the restaurant couldn’t hear it.
‘I don’t believe you,’ she said finally. And she didn’t.
The Caines might not actually live in a castle, but after her stepfather and uncle had been arrested the family had pulled up a metaphorical drawbridge. Overnight she had simply stopped being invited into their world. There had been no drama about it. They were far too well-bred to make a scene. But she had known from what Alicia hadn’t said that Robert and Bautista thought she was bad news, and she’d never had any reason to believe they had changed their mind.
Her breath felt jagged in her throat. All she had were those few hours at the party, when she’d mistakenly believed that Bautista felt about her as she felt about him.
‘And that’s why I asked him to join us so he could tell you himself.’
Finishing her sentence, Alicia lifted her hand and waved excitedly at someone across the restaurant.
Mimi glanced in the direction of her friend’s gaze and instantly felt the fine hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end. On the other side of the room, with a lock of dark hair falling across his face, his dark suit clinging to his lean, muscular body like the ivy that grew over his family’s Georgian mansion, was Bautista Caine.
Her heart seemed to stop beating.
Watching him move, she felt her body turn boneless. There was a swagger to the way he walked, a kind of innate poise and self-confidence that she had never possessed—except maybe briefly, when she was behind the camera. But even in a room like this—a room full of self-assured, beautiful people—he was by far the most beautiful, with his dark, almost black hair and eyes, and his fine features perfectly blending his English and Argentinian heritage.
But his impact on the crowded restaurant wasn’t just down to his bone structure, or those mesmerising sloe-dark eyes, or even that easy honeyed smile that made you forget your own name. He had what directors liked to refer to as presence: a mythical, elusive, intangible quality that made looking away from him an impossibility.
To her overstrained senses it seemed to take an age for him to reach the table. Quite a few of the diners clearly knew him and wanted to say hello. Her pulse skipped a beat as a famous Hollywood actress got to her feet and kissed him on both cheeks but Bautista seemed completely unfazed.
Of course he did: this was his world. More importantly, it wasn’t hers, and no amount of lunching with A-listers was ever going to change that fact.
Her understanding of that was the difference between now and two years ago when, high on the incredible thrill of finally being noticed by the object of her unrequited teenage affections, she’d let herself believe that their worlds could collide without any kind of collateral damage.
She knew better now. His abrupt change of heart had been humiliating and devastating—although of course his heart hadn’t been the organ involved in that particular encounter.
And that had made her humiliation complete. For although she might have been secretly hoping for a declaration of love, what she’d offered him had been sex. Simple, no-strings, walk-away-without-so-much-as-a-backward-glance sex.
And he’d turned her down.
Her heart felt like a jagged rock scraping against her ribs.
She had gone to his room willingly, eagerly, hoping, almost believing, that she could pull it off. But of course all she’d managed to do was prove to herself that, as usual, she was punching above her weight.
‘Basa.’
‘Philip.’
She watched numbly as the two men embraced.
‘No, don’t get up, Lissy.’ Leaning forward, Basa kissed his sister gently on both cheeks, and then Mimi felt her body tense as finally he turned towards her.
As their eyes met the chatter of the dining room seemed to recede.
Mimi stared at him in silence. It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair for him to be so devastatingly good-looking. She wanted to hate him. She needed to hate him. Only it was hard to treat him as the despicable human being he was when he was packaged so delightfully.
But she wasn’t some love-struck girl living out a fantasy, she reminded herself quickly, and there was no excuse for feeling so jittery about a man who had treated her so badly.
‘Well, if it isn’t little Mimi Miller,’ he said softly. ‘In the flesh.’
She felt her pulse pool between her thighs. His voice was the icing on the cake. Not some simpering frosted butter but a dark molten glaze—what chocolate would sound like if it could talk.
He leaned down and she breathed in the faint hint of his cologne as his lips brushed against first one cheek and then the other. Her breath stumbled in her throat as he sat down beside her, stretching his long legs out in her direction so she quickly had to tuck hers under her chair to stop their limbs colliding.
He held her gaze for a moment, and then his dark, mocking eyes dropped to her mouth. Instantly she felt her skin begin to tingle, her nipples tightening against the fabric of her dress in a way that made her want to duck under the table and hide.
Breath burning in her throat, she watched him lean back in his seat, and then, turning to face Alicia, he said calmly, ‘So, what did I miss, Sis?’
She shook her head. ‘Most of lunch. You were supposed to be here at one o’clock.’
He grinned unrepentantly. ‘And I messaged you to say I’d be late.’ Reaching across the table, he grabbed his sister’s hand and squeezed it affectionately. ‘Hey, I’m sorry I missed lunch, okay? But, look, I can still have dessert.’
Lowering his ridiculously long eyelashes, he gazed pointedly at Mimi’s untouched rum baba.
‘Here. Knock yourself out.’ Smiling stiffly, she pushed her plate towards him, wishing she could throw it at his head.
‘Thank you.’ His fingers brushed against hers as he took the plate. ‘Now, isn’t this civilised?’
Their eyes met, and his cool, unblinking gaze made ice trickle down her spine, for it felt as if they were having a private and far less civilised conversation.
Oblivious to the tension, Philip leaned forward, his eyes seeking out a waiter. ‘Do you want coffee with that?’
Basa looked up from his food and nodded. ‘I could murder an espresso.’
Philip glanced at Mimi.
‘Yes, please.’ She smiled stiffly, relief washing over her skin. At least coffee meant this would soon be over and she could escape Basa’s taunting gaze.
‘So four espressos, then.’
‘Actually, could you make that just two?’ Alicia nudged her fiancé in the ribs. ‘We’re meeting your aunt now, remember?’
‘We are?’ Philip looked blank for a moment and then a flicker of understanding crossed his face and he nodded slowly. ‘Oh, yes, that’s right. We are…meeting my aunt.’
Basa rolled his eyes. ‘Really subtle, guys.’
He tilted his face towards Mimi and gave her a long, slow smile that sucked the air from her lungs.
‘My sister has probably told you that she invited me along so that I could persuade you to film her wedding, but actually that was just an excuse. She thinks we need to have a little chat, just you and me—you know, to clear the air about our families’ shared history.’
Mimi blinked.
Absolutely. Not.
She practically shouted the words inside her head, and she was just opening her mouth to repeat them out loud when Basa cut across her.
‘And I think she’s right,’ he said smoothly. ‘After all, a wedding is all about moving forward. But obviously if Mimi would rather not…?’
His eyes held hers, dark, uncompromising, daring her to refuse. Beside him, Alicia was staring at her, her own eyes soft and hopeful.
‘Please, Mimi. You’re two of my favourite people in the world, and I know you’re worried about what happened with your family and mine and that’s why you don’t want to film the wedding.’ She bit her lip. ‘Look, Philip and I are going to go now, but will you promise me that you’ll stay and talk? Please? For me?’
Mimi wanted to say no, to say that there was no point, because Basa wasn’t going to listen to anything she said. But the words wouldn’t form in her mouth. Not because she didn’t believe them or because they weren’t true—she did and they were—but because this was the first time she had found herself up against both Caine siblings and she knew she couldn’t fight the two of them.
Lifting her face to meet her friend’s, she forced her mouth into a smile, and beneath the blood roaring in her ears she heard herself say lightly, ‘Okay, I’ll stay and talk. I promise.’
CHAPTER TWO
WATCHING ALICIA AND Philip leave, Mimi felt as though she was being left in the playground by her mother on the first day of school. Unlike Basa, she thought, as he leaned back in his chair like a Roman emperor at a feast being held in his honour.
Her heart was thumping like a piston. This wasn’t the reunion she’d imagined with Basa—and she’d imagined quite a few of them. The majority had involved the man calmly sitting beside her and apologising, and then begging her forgiveness.
Unfortunately, as with most of her life, the reality was a long way from her fantasy. Her attempt to matchmake for her mother had ended in disaster, her one shot at becoming a film director was languishing in a lawyer’s office, and her seduction of Basa had been utterly humiliating.
Was it really so surprising that instead of sticking to her script he was coolly drinking coffee and playing mind-games?
Her breathing faltered. She already knew what it felt like to be played by Basa, and she was in no hurry to be on the receiving end of that treatment again. Clearly the most sensible thing was for one or both of them to make a dignified and swift exit. She would just have to square it with Alicia later.
Trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she turned to face him. ‘Okay, I know we said we’d stay and talk, but I think we can both agree that was only for Alicia’s benefit, so please don’t feel you need to stay on my account,’ she said quickly. ‘Really, I’m not expecting you to.’
His dark eyes glittered. ‘What? Not even to pick up the bill?’
Her chin jerked up.
‘I didn’t come here for a free lunch, if that’s what you’re implying,’ she snapped, and then immediately wished she hadn’t, because she sounded defensive and cornered, which wasn’t at all the image she wanted to project.
Although, Basa’s opinion of her was so low anyway what difference would it make? He might not have said as much but his cool manner and even cooler gaze made it clear he’d made up his mind about her character back when her family had so nearly ruined his, and she doubted there was anything she could do or say to change his view. In his mind she was, and always would be, damned by association.
The waiter arrived with their coffee and she sat fuming, her mind belatedly conjuring up all the various smart put-downs she should have made to his last remark. He was just so insufferable. Sitting there and judging her as though he had the moral high ground, when his own behaviour had been utterly atrocious.
But why should she care what he thought of her anyway?
She watched him reach out and select one of the charming petit-fours the waiters had brought to the table with the coffee. Something in the tilt of his head seemed to tug at her memory, and her body tensed as time seemed to roll back on itself and she was in the ballroom at Fairbourne again. And standing on the other side of the dance floor, his dark, dishevelled hair accentuating the precision cut of his dinner jacket, his dark eyes fixed on her as though she was the only woman in the room, was Basa.
And that was why she cared.
In those few hours she had blossomed beneath his unblinking gaze, and then the miraculous, the unbelievable, had happened and he’d kissed her, said words she’d dreamed of hearing and—
Her fingers clenched into fists.
If she was going to indulge herself by reliving the past, the least she could do was do it properly and remember how, just when she’d started to believe he might actually mean those words, he’d got up and left her, and not come back.
The next time he’d seen her he’d looked straight through her. As if it hadn’t been him who had cupped her face in his hands, his tongue tangling with hers while his thumbs caressed her aching nipples.
Trying to still the jittery feeling in her chest, she watched mutely as he raised his hands in mock surrender, his dark eyes gleaming. ‘Someone’s a little touchy. Or did I hit a nerve?’
He leaned forward, his dark hair falling across his face, his mouth curving in a way that made her spine shrink against her chair.
‘I sincerely hope it wasn’t my presence that dragged you away from the charms of Zone Six. I know we had that little “entanglement” at Lissy’s birthday party, but if you’re thinking we have some kind of unfinished business I’m going to have to disappoint you,’ he said softly.
The handle of her coffee cup felt clumsy between her fingers. Her throat was tight and dry, and she was finding it hard to breathe normally.
Of all the arrogant—
Grinding her teeth, she stared at him in silence, a pulse of anger hopscotching over her skin. Did he truly think that was why she had come here? To offer herself to him? After the way he’d behaved.
It was suddenly hard to catch her breath. All the hurt and loneliness and confusion of that night rose in her throat, and when she looked down at her hands she saw they were shaking. Did he have any idea how it had felt? To lie there naked in his bed, her body quivering with longing, filled with disbelief that this beautiful, unattainable man had chosen her, only to discover that he’d changed his mind and not even bothered to tell her.
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Basa,’ she said coldly, ‘but I didn’t actually know you were going to be here today. And even if I had known, any entangling with you really isn’t that much of an incentive for me to “drag” myself across the road, let alone into the West End.’
He stilled, not just his body but his face, even his eyes, and she felt her heart begin to beat out of time.
‘Funny… I don’t remember you being so reticent two years ago. In fact, as I recall, you were pretty insistent.’
‘You asked me to dance,’ she snapped.
She could still remember her shock, and the sharp tingling excitement as he’d held out his hand. For to her it had felt like the moment when Prince Charming had invited Cinderella to dance at the ball.
Her heartbeat stuttered now.
Maybe if she’d been more worldly she might have seen it for what it was. Thanks to his sister’s insistence that he make sure everyone had at least one turn on the dance floor, he had dutifully danced with practically all Alicia’s friends by that point. But as he’d pressed her closer she’d been so cocooned in an enveloping, intoxicating happiness that nothing had existed except the muscular hardness of his body and the restless, persistent pulse between her thighs.
His dark gaze rested on her face.
‘To dance, yes…’ he said slowly.
Her pulse froze, and before she could stop them the images fast-forwarded.
Their ‘duty’ dance over, she’d thought he would thank her and leave, but somehow they had been on the terrace, the music had faded, and as she’d shivered in the cool night air he’d shrugged out of his dinner jacket and settled it over her shoulders. The silk lining had been warm from the heat of his body, and it had still been warm a moment later, when she’d stood on tiptoe and kissed him…
Her cheeks were hot and her skin suddenly felt as though it was too small for her body. She might have been a virgin—she still was—but she hadn’t been completely clueless. There had been a couple of boys at parties, their clumsy lips pulling at hers like overgrown puppies with a chew toy, but nothing and no one had ever made her feel like that.
Her body had seemed to lose all its bones, to become one with his. It had felt as though she was melting into him, everything solid turning fluid, drowning all sense and reason—and, yes, she had been eager, frantic to finish what they’d started without any thought to the consequences.
But admitting that to Basa now wouldn’t change his part in what had happened.
He might be blessed with mouthwatering looks and limitless wealth, but that was where his resemblance to Prince Charming ended. Even before Charlie and Raymond had been caught embezzling he’d had no plans to marry a scullery maid—or, in her case, the stepdaughter of an employee. All he’d been interested in was a short, sweet sexual encounter, and that had rapidly lost its appeal when he’d realised he’d have to go hunting for condoms to make it happen.
Of course he’d made up some other excuse to leave, but she knew he hadn’t gone to get a bottle of champagne. The truth was that she just hadn’t been beautiful or desirable enough to make him want to stay.