She could remember Jennie mentioning the prestige of the alternative venue, she had to have mentioned the name, but Marisa’s mind had been elsewhere and she hadn’t registered it. No, because she’d been too busy torturing herself with every possible, and highly improbable, disaster that could occur in her absence.
Her glance darted around the room, reached the slightly open bedroom door and retracted hastily, focusing instead on her feet clad in leg-elongating nude court shoes that added four inches to her willowy five feet ten inches.
She brought her lashes down in a protective sweep over eyes that continued to be drawn to that open door, her mouth twisted in frustration as she acknowledged all the missed opportunities that would have at least given her time, if not to avoid this moment, then to at the very least prepare herself for it.
Even as late as getting in the taxi would have been something, she thought, considering another missed opportunity. Jennie had waited until she was in the cab before they’d parted company, her PA heading towards the Tube to spend some well-deserved time off with her family. Jennie had to have given the driver the address of the hotel, but again Marisa’s thoughts had been elsewhere.
Where was a convenient icy shiver of premonition when a girl needed one?
Up to the point the taxi had pulled in, she hadn’t even glanced out of the window. Instead, she had spent the journey from the station scrolling through some emails and checking in with Jamie’s nanny, Ashley, who had responded to her anxious questions with cheery positivity and a series of soothing photos of Marisa’s four-and-a-half-year-old clearly having the time of his life at junior soccer practice.
It wasn’t that she doubted Ashley’s competence, but this was the first time she had left Jamie since he’d been given the all-clear by the doctors.
Up to this point, any trip away from home had deliberately not included an overnight stay, or if it had, she had taken Jamie with her. This was a big step for her, though less so, it seemed, for Jamie, who had been too busy playing with a new computer game to do more than give her a casual wave before he got back to his screen.
On one level she knew that he was fine, he was safe, and she knew her fear had no basis in logic but, as she had already discovered, it wasn’t always about logic. When you had lived with fear this long it was something that was hard to let go of. For so long she had been afraid of losing her precious son and—She took a deep breath and deliberately dampened the panic she could feel rising. No, she told herself, repeating the phrase like a mantra, she was not going to lose him, because he was healthy now.
Her son was a survivor, one of the lucky ones, and he had made a complete recovery. Despite the fact he was noticeably smaller and more delicate-looking than his contemporaries, Jamie was, so the medics told her, as fit and robust as any other four-year-old and would soon catch up developmentally.
The assistant manager cleared his throat and lowered his tablet. ‘We do have an alternative room although it is not as—’
‘That’s tremendous, thank you so much. I’ll take it.’
Reaching for her sunglasses, she slid them on her small straight nose, hiding behind the tinted glass as she dredged deep to produce a faint smile.
‘Right then, if you can give me a few moments I will make the necessary arrangements. The room is on the second floor—will that do?’
‘That’s fine. It’s just the balcony up here that bothers me.’ She stopped, well aware that the balcony she spoke of was not actually visible from where they stood.
‘I understand totally.’
Luckily for her he didn’t.
‘I wil
l be back momentarily.’ He held out a straight-backed chair situated by a small table and after a pause she took it.
‘Can I get you anything?’
She made an inarticulate sound in her throat and vaguely registered the sound of the door closing, the images floating in her head exerting a tug she couldn’t resist.
She was standing on the balcony that she knew existed behind the heavy curtains in the bedroom. It was night, as dark outside as a city ever got, and she was staring down at the shining lights, the glistening moisture on the rain-soaked pavements, when she felt the quivering downy hair rise on her skin a second before the back of her neck started to tingle—she was no longer alone.
Her breath left her lungs as his big strong hands came to rest on her shoulders. As if connected by an invisible thread to his body, she leaned back against his chest, drawn to the hard warmth of his maleness, breathing in the clean unique fragrance of him. For a few moments they stayed that way, her heart beating heavy and slow in anticipation for a long while before he twisted her around to face him, and, like a parched flower turning to the sun, her face had tilted as she had strained upwards to meet his cool, firm lips with her own.
The languid heat that had spread through her body like a flash fire had made her bones dissolve and she would have slid to the floor had a muscular arm not banded her narrow ribcage before he’d picked her up and...!
Behind the smoky lenses of her sunglasses her pupils dilated as she swallowed hard, pushing the memory kicking and screaming back into its box. She glanced at the bedroom door again and felt her insides tighten.
With a cry she shot to her feet, opened the suite door a crack and positioned herself within reaching distance of the door handle for a quick escape should she need it, before pressing her rigid shoulder blades against the wall and closing her eyes...
What were the odds of finding herself in the exact same suite?
Fighting to keep her thoughts in the here and now, which, no matter how uncomfortable, was infinitely preferable to obsessing about the past, she took another deep mind-clearing breath.
She was winning and then she just had to sabotage her own progress and peek through the open bedroom door and see that bed. With no warning the past collided painfully with the present again with a concussive impact.
‘No!’ Teeth clenched, she ran across the room and closed the door with a decisive click before leaning her back against it, even though she knew a couple of inches of wood was no defence against the memories that had been playing in a loop ever since she’d got out of the taxi and found herself standing in the exact spot where it had all begun more than five years earlier.