Kit didn’t want her. Physically or otherwise. That much was now blindingly obvious. So obvious, in fact, that she was kind of stunned she’d ever got into her head that he did.
How could she have been so stupid, so deluded? Well, her sister had a lot to answer for, she thought darkly, rolling onto her front and burying her head in a pillow. If it hadn’t been for that stupid phone call she’d never have leapt to the clearly wrong conclusion that he might still have feelings for her.
Zoe had said she thought that Kit might still love her, but might also meant might not, didn’t it?
And if that was the case then she’d been wrong to read so much into the look he’d given her in the bar when she’d first turned up for supper the day he’d arrived. She’d thought she’d seen so much there in his eyes, but perhaps she’d only seen it because she’d wanted to see it. And perhaps she’d been wrong to imagine, wonder, hope even, that things between her and Kit could be anything other than what they were.
Which was absolutely devastating, because while the last few days hadn’t resulted in a tumble in the waves, they had highlighted all the reasons why she’d fallen in love with him in the first place: his enthusiasm for everything he did; his live-life-to-the-full attitude; the way he made her feel protected and cherished; his generosity and inherent kindness.
They’d also highlighted the fact that despite all her assertions to the contrary, despite everything she’d told herself over the last five long, horrible years, she’d never fallen out of love with him. She knew now that she still loved everything about him. Always had, always would.
While he was completely indifferent to her.
As her heart twisted Lily let out a muffled wail and thumped the mattress with her fists. Oh, what a mess. So much for wondering where they were going, she thought desolately. They weren’t going anywhere. Apart from home. Tomorrow. And then on with their lives. Separately.
As a stab of despair shot through her at the futility of it all she rolled onto her back, sat up and looked gloomily out of the window.
At least the weather, having taken a turn for the worse, was vaguely sympathetic to the blackness of her mood.
Ever since they’d got back—and what a hideously awkward journey that had been—the air pressure had been dropping and the temperature had been rising to what was now an almost unbearable level. The clouds that had started scudding across the sky when they’d moored the boat back at the jetty were now so dense and dark it felt as if the island were lying beneath a heavy, hot and humid blanket.
Even though it was only mid-afternoon it felt like dusk. Not the soft, balmy dusk of the last few days, but an edgy, malevolent dusk that was laden with an ominous kind of portent. The wind was whipping up the sea, bending the trees practically double, and the air was crackling with electricity that she could feel vibrating through her too.
She felt weirdly on edge. Prickly. As if a whole hive of bees had taken up residence inside her.
And what exactly was she going to do for the rest of the afternoon? She couldn’t read. Couldn’t work. Couldn’t do any of the activities the resort usually had to offer as everything had been cancelled due to the storm that was brewing. There was the gym, but even if that had appealed Kit had muttered something about heading that way when they got back, which ruled it totally out.
And as for simply lying back and relaxing, well, that was out of the question too because in the abs
ence of anything else to do it seemed that she was going to be spending the afternoon driving herself mad with if onlys and what ifs, wondering what he was thinking, what he was doing and if there was anything she could have done differently to make him want her again. The rest of the time she had left on the island she’d have to spend avoiding him.
Or would she?
A clap of thunder boomed across the sky, rattling the windows and making her jump. And get a grip.
Hang on, she thought, jumping off the bed and beginning to pace as her brain suddenly started whirring. What was she? Some kind of a wimp? Who was this woman who shied away from a challenge? Where was the woman who’d been so determined to have it out with him that she’d accidentally stood on a sea urchin?
Was she really going to meekly accept that they weren’t going anywhere and just leave things in the past? Was she really going to give up without knowing for sure that there was no future for them when the opportunity to find out was there for the taking?
No, dammit, she wasn’t.
What the hell did she have to lose by confronting him? Her pride? Well, that had gone years ago. Her sense of self-preservation? Hah. She’d been kidding herself that she ever had one in the first place.
And what was she so frightened of? That he might turn her down? Or that he might not?
Lightning split the sky, illuminating the room for a second, and Lily felt her heart begin to race as what she had to do, what she wanted to do, became clear.
She couldn’t go home not knowing what could have been and she couldn’t stand another minute of the uncertainty. And yes, the outcome of what she was about to do was a fairly scary unknown, and yes, the weather was diabolical, but in all honesty, she thought grimly as she grabbed her cagoule and pulled it on, she’d faced far worse.
*
Making it back from the gym to his villa a second before the heavens opened, Kit strode into the shower room and flicked on the water with perhaps more force than was strictly necessary, but frankly he was all out of patience, and all out of hope.
He’d done his best to get Lily to want him the way he wanted her, but his best simply wasn’t good enough. He had to accept the fact that Lily just wasn’t interested in him the way he was in her.
The memory of her sitting on the edge of the beach shot into his head. The moment he’d caught the tiny sound she’d made that could have been pain or something else and their gazes had locked. The highly charged moment in which it had seemed to him that they were teetering on a knife-edge. In which he’d been willing her to take the chance on them. And in which she hadn’t.
The moment that had pretty much told him everything he needed to know.