Nice Girls Finish Last (14 page)

But she knew why the doubts had found their way in today and why they'd made her so annoyed last night. She was falling all the more for Seth and it scared her. This wasn't staying as the light affair she'd thought she could handle. But maybe, just maybe, it would all work out okay. A seed of hope had just been sown. He hadn't wanted her for a mere thrill today, he'd wanted her
company.

Only, along with the burst of happiness that that knowledge brought, concern came, too. ‘Why were you so worried about the meeting?' She'd never have picked him to be anxious, yet he'd clearly been unwilling and she couldn't
understand why. ‘You had all of them eating out of your hand.'

He laughed and squeezed her hand lightly. ‘They only want to stay onside so I invest in some other things they've got on.'

‘No, they were really impressed with your ideas. Not just your money.'

He glanced at her, a small smile tilting his lips before he kissed her hand again. ‘I'm glad you think so.'

‘So what was the problem, then?' Because clearly something had bothered him about the trip today.

‘It wasn't the meeting.' He looked out to the empty horizon. ‘It was the location. I grew up in Auckland.'

‘Really?' She'd assumed he was a Christchurch kid, he seemed so entwined in the city.

‘Yeah, and I know it's pathetic but I don't like coming back. Lots of unhappy memories. I've avoided it for years. Avoided my dad.'

‘But I thought he was…'

‘Dead, yeah. A year ago. Complications from the flu.'

‘I'm sorry.'

He barely shrugged.

It was beyond obvious that they hadn't been close. It augmented her sympathy; he'd lost his chance to fix whatever had happened to cause this bitterness between them.

‘He was a bastard.'

She flinched. That one descriptor and the superficial dismissiveness with which he said it revealed far more than a five-minute speech could. The underlying harsh hurt throbbed. She knew that, no matter how grown up you got, some things could still rub raw. Even when you thought you had an impenetrable scab covering an old wound, sometimes the smallest thing could just rip it right off.

‘He walked out when I was fourteen,' he said quietly. ‘It
was a really rough time before he left.' His shrug and almost smile didn't minimise the unease she sensed in him.

‘What happened?'

His attempt to smile failed. ‘Another woman is what happened.'

‘He had an affair?' Lena's body temperature plummeted.

‘With a manipulative number way nearer my age than his. She got pregnant.'

‘Did she have the baby?' Lena uncurled her fingers so he'd let her hand go. She wanted to hide how clammy her palms had just got.

‘That's how she got him to go back to her. He'd told Mum it was over and that he was staying. I thought it was all going to be okay—that they'd got through it. He was better, more involved, working. But six months later he told us his lover was pregnant and that he was leaving for good. It was more of a shock than when he'd first admitted the affair.'

‘Oh, Seth.' Her heart sank.

‘She was three months pregnant. He said seeing her again had been a one-off. A mistake because she'd been so devastated after he'd ended it. And now she was too vulnerable to manage on her own.' He shook his head derisively. ‘She'd done whatever she had to, to catch and keep him.'

‘You think she got pregnant on purpose?' His words scraped her skin, leaving her nerves and heart so exposed.

From the poisonous mood in the hotel room before she'd sailed to paradise, only to drop into a corrosive horror now. This was worse than her worst nightmare.

‘Of course she did. It was the killer for my mum. She wanted more kids, but for whatever reason it didn't happen. I was it.'

‘So she had the baby?'

‘A boy. They married. And my feckless, charming father finally got his act together. They lived in Auckland. Moved
into the home that had once been mine and Mum's, too, and left us with nothing. Tainted the whole damn town.'

Lena's heart blistered. ‘How old is your half-brother?'

‘I'm not sure, early teens maybe?'

She could tell from his eyes he knew exactly how old the kid was, he just didn't want to think about it.

‘Have you ever met him?' she pressed anyway, her own demons pushing inside her.

‘I had to visit a few times when I was a teen until I point-blank refused. I saw him at the funeral. We didn't chat.'

‘You don't want to know him?'

‘Why would I?'

‘Because he's your half-brother.'

‘He's not.' Seth shrugged. ‘We have no real connection. And I sure as hell don't want anything to do with Rebecca Walker.'

Rebecca Walker. The name somehow made her real—and Lena felt so sorry. ‘That's who that letter was from,' she said, suddenly making the connection. ‘The other day. I thought it was odd that you chucked it because the sender had the same surname as you. R. Walker.'

‘She only has the same surname because she married my father.'

‘Why'd she write to you?' Lena's nerves pulled tight.

‘Money,' he grunted.

Lena watched his barriers shut down—his face expressionless, his stance rigid on the sunny beach. ‘But you don't actually know because you didn't open the letter.'

‘Why would I?'

‘You're not even curious?'

‘No.'

From the uncompromising response she knew there was no point telling him he should be. He was too frozen to want to know. But what if something was wrong? Surely the
woman wouldn't go to the trouble of writing to an estranged stepson without a good reason. His ruthless dismissiveness struck an ice-cold blade of fear into her. She understood his anger, she understood how hurt he must have been, but she hoped he could understand there might be another side to an age-old story. ‘You know, it's not always the other woman who starts an affair,' she said nervously. ‘Sometimes the married guy instigates it.'

‘You're defending her?' His eyes widened.

‘I just don't think one party is ever wholly to blame.' She dug her toes into the sand, trying to hide her discomfort. ‘Sometimes a woman might be seduced. Your dad lied, Seth. Maybe he kept on lying. Maybe he'd been seeing her the whole time.'

‘But she was the one who got herself knocked up so he felt like he couldn't abandon her.'

‘It usually takes two to get pregnant.' She wished the water washing over her feet could wash away her festering wounds. But they just kept on stinging.

‘Your parents are still happily married, right?' he said roughly. ‘It's not something you can really comment on unless you've lived through it.'

But she had lived through it. She knew all about extramarital affairs. About flip-flopping emotions and false promises. About lies, counter lies and self-deception. And desperation.

The revelation about Seth's parents crushed the fledgling fantasy that this could be more than a fling for her and him. Now she knew he'd never be able to understand. She'd heard the scorn when he talked about his father's other woman. No shades of grey—Seth was black and white all the way.

She'd made some huge mistakes and she'd been trying so hard to move on and not make those mistakes again. Not to be the immature, attention-starved, vulnerable girl
who'd messed up so royally. And she'd been succeeding. But she didn't think Seth would understand how her past had happened. Her affair with a married man had been more about her need to be wanted than her really wanting the man himself. It had been the attention—for the first time feeling that someone thought she was special, rather than feeling anything terribly special herself.

With Seth it was all different. With Seth it was all about her deepening feelings for him. Her incredible desire to be near his laughter, his light, his whole self. And that desire was expanding—she wanted to be part of his life, to share it all with him. She didn't want to give him up.

But soon she would have to. She couldn't hide her past for ever and she knew that the second he found out, it would be over.

L
ATER
in the week, after more out-of-town meetings, Seth told Mike he wanted to fly back to Christchurch that evening, after all. He knew he should spend the night in Wellington—he had more meetings tomorrow. But now, last minute, he didn't want to. He'd fly back in the morning. And then back to Christchurch again in the afternoon in time for the game. Screw the carbon footprint. He'd plant some trees on a station somewhere.

He hadn't spent a night away in days. And there was only one green-eyed-brunette reason for that. A night away should have been good, would have been sensible, would have been a test. But he failed it gladly. Because he wanted nothing more than to be back with her as soon as possible. He didn't copilot as he sometimes did. Instead he sat in the cabin and stared into space. Trying to work out what the hell he thought he was doing.

He knew what she wanted—a man who was one hundred per cent there for her. Who'd pay her the attention she'd never got from her folks. He'd seen her mother's Facebook page in the weekend when they'd been playing on the computer. Lena hadn't been exaggerating. In all the photos of her siblings and their achievements, there was only the one of Lena—with Cliff Richard. She'd tried to laugh it off but he'd seen her face in that unguarded split second when she'd
realised there were no other shots of her in the online album. She'd been hurt. And then resigned, as if she shouldn't have expected anything else. That was when she'd tried to laugh. But he didn't think it was all that funny.

Beautiful inside and out, she shouldn't be left in the shade. Like most flowers she needed full sun to bloom. The caring sweetheart had given so much more than she'd got back from her family. She deserved more from them. Deserved more than the little he could give her, too.

She needed absolute attention, utter security. And though she never mentioned it, had even once denied it, he knew that for her that would eventually mean marriage.

His lungs tightened. He could never offer her that. He knew what a farce it was. It trapped people into staying together for longer than they should. It produced kids only to mess them up.

He wasn't ever going to marry, never have kids. So given their opposing future ideals, he knew he shouldn't be hanging around her now. He should be backing away so she was free to meet the guy who'd be all good for her. She was a team player who liked to support others—but who needed someone to support her needs just as much. Whereas he liked to live alone and never rely on another. Never feel the burden of being relied upon for emotional fulfilment—for he was fully aware he'd fail to carry it. Hell, he couldn't even get her to tell him about the guy who'd done her over. It shouldn't bother him, but it did. He couldn't end this until he knew it all. And even more stupidly, his big place felt too bare and empty now; he liked her lushly furnished rooms better. So when he landed, well past midnight, he quietly crept into her bed.

‘Seth?' She was curled in a cosy ball like a cat—but he wasn't lulled into thinking she was harmless. She was more sleeping lioness than kitten.

‘Shh, it's late.' He kissed her lips—a chaste, soft kiss. He kissed her cheek, her brow. Tenderness washed over him, soothing down the embers of desire.

She mumbled something; he didn't catch it. But he knew she was happy, he saw the soft smile, heard the sleepy chuckle. It touched him. He pulled her back against him, gently pressing a light kiss on the tip of her ear, the edge of her cheek. She stirred again, muttered something else and then relaxed, warm against him.

Long into the night, he lay awake. Holding her softness close, listening to her smooth breathing. Her husky whisper echoed round his head, sending vitality—entwined with terror—pulsing through his soul. Had she really just muttered those three little words?

He'd heard them before, from other women when they were wide awake. He hadn't believed them. They'd wanted his success and status rather than him. But Lena didn't want to feed off his success. Lena was working out her own meaning of that word. Lena wasn't like them. She wasn't like anyone else he'd met. How he felt now was totally foreign, too.

Now he wished he'd stayed away.

 

Lena woke, amazed to find him profoundly asleep in her bed. He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in Wellington. But he'd obviously wanted to come home—to her. She lay quietly, looking at his beautifully relaxed expression. He was so handsome. She thought back, remembering now that she'd felt his weight on the bed in the middle of the night, that she'd turned and cuddled into his warmth, that she'd been so pleased she'd said…

Oh, no.

She carefully eased out of bed so she didn't wake him. Had a shower in which she squeezed her eyes tight against
the tears. It was one thing to admit her weakness to herself, it was another to admit it to him. Because she also remembered his response to her declaration—his utter silence.

The hour before work ticked away. She dressed, breakfasted and still he snoozed on. In the silence she formulated a plan. She'd pretend she'd never said it. Pretend she'd been asleep. Pretend that nightmare reality had been a dream.

‘Why aren't you out of bed yet? Don't you have deals to make or something?' She put her hand on his foot and jiggled it. ‘In
Wellington
?'

Zero reaction.

She pulled the curtains open and jabbed at his prone form again.

Finally he groaned. ‘It took ages to get to sleep.' Bleary-eyed, he rubbed his hand over his face. ‘Lena—' He broke off.

‘Mmm?' She picked up her bag, and glanced at her reflection, needing a second before facing him. ‘What?'

No answer. She turned. For a second he met her gaze, then he looked away. Sitting up, he covered his body with a sheet. He never did that.

‘I've got to go,' she said lamely, dying inside.

He couldn't look at her. And he didn't answer.

‘You'll have to let yourself out.' She sprinted to the door. ‘I'm late already.'

Seth slumped back down the bed and stared at the ceiling, still hearing the husky whisper. Maybe it had been a dream. He'd been that tired. He was still tired. And totally out of sorts. Just then she'd escaped as fast as she could. He didn't know if that meant she remembered or not. Either way she was hiding from him and he didn't like it. He flung the sheet up over his face and closed his eyes, trying to slip back into a half sleep. Except he ached all over. Maybe he was coming down with flu.

He should have stayed away last night. He should stay away tonight instead. He needed some space to think clearly but there was no getting out of going to the Knights' home game. He had to be there for the boys. It was their big reward for turning up to the training and for turning up to school this week.

He lay, breathing in her soft scent, and finally faced it. What he'd wanted, why he was feeling this disgruntled—this
disappointed.
He'd wanted her to say it again. He'd wanted her to wake and to say it again and to mean it.

He'd never wanted that from anyone, never wanted to want it. But it had snuck up on him. She had. His heart thundered in both horror and frustration. Because now he had to deal with a whole day away, then a whole evening of being social. He showered and dressed and headed back to the airport. He didn't text or call. Because he needed to see her face to face. Once all the day's obligations were done, he'd get her alone and up close and, cautious as he suddenly was, he'd see what happened.

 

Lena didn't pay attention to the game. The Knights won, of course, but that was inevitable. Seth was in the VIP stand with his boys. Even the ones who believed they were literally too cool for school looked blown away. Andrew and Dion were with them, too. The boys were getting the full preferential treatment—dinner before the match, dessert halfway through in the private suite, plus the chance to mingle with the Knights at the after-match function now. Watching from a distance, she chatted with other guests and truly understood what a mess she'd made of it. She'd done it again, fallen for someone who didn't want the same thing as her. And this time she'd fallen in love for real.

He didn't feel the same way. Her half-dozy declaration had killed it. He wouldn't even hold her gaze across the
room. She'd tried, sent him a smile when she'd caught him glancing at her. But he'd blanked it—looked away as fast as possible and then actually turned his back.

She knew he was a better man than her ex. He didn't lie, didn't cheat. He had his own code. But he had faults, too. It hurt her to see him being so nice to those kids tonight when he was blanking his own blood—his half-brother. He couldn't forgive. So Lena knew just how to end it with him. Because, as she'd promised herself from the start,
she
would be the one to call time. And she had to now. He wasn't ever going to change for her.

By now the Knights had come up from the change room. Suited up in their finery, they were busy doing obligatory chats with the sponsors and guests before they hit the clubs in town and celebrated the way they really wanted to. A group were paying special attention to Andrew and the boys. Lena couldn't bear to watch any more. Her duty was almost over for the night and she'd snatch a breather now. She slipped out of the room into the cooling air. Other than the crowd in the glassed-in corporate boxes, the stadium was now empty. The audience had drained away, the cleaners had already swept round collecting the plastic cups and wrappers left strewn over the seating. She walked down the steps of the private stand and stood at the railing—literally bracing herself.

‘Lena?'

So he'd followed.

‘If your half-brother was in a mess like those boys up there, would you help him?' she asked without preamble.

The late-summer night was light enough for her to see his immediate frown as he leant on the railing. ‘Why would you think he's in trouble?'

‘What if that's why she's writing to you?'

He laughed—roughly. ‘Lena, trust me, it's probably
money. It's amazing, the people who crawl out of the woodwork claiming some kind of kinship or pleading some sob story when they know you're wealthy.'

‘Well, what if it is? What if they're struggling like you and your mum struggled? Would you want him to go through the kind of hardship you went through?'

His frown was thunderous. ‘He'll never go through what I went through.'

‘Seth.' Her heart pleaded for him to be more sympathetic. ‘He's lost his father.'

‘I lost my father, too,' he said coldly. ‘A long time ago.'

‘About the same age as he did.' Lena nodded. ‘What if he needs a decent man in his life to help him out now? Or do you want him to have to fight through it, too?'

Seth abruptly straightened. ‘Lena, this is pointless. You're never going to understand—'

‘No,
you
won't,' she interrupted harshly. ‘You'll
never
understand.'

‘Understand what?'

She turned and hit him as he'd once told her to. Only, words could wound so much more than fists. ‘How I came to have an affair with a married man. How for almost a year I was his mistress. How I tried to break up a marriage.'

He stared, his eyes widening to huge.
‘What?'
He sounded half-strangled.

‘You heard. I was the other woman interfering in a marriage, Seth. I tried to break them up. I did everything I could.'

She'd been so pathetically needy. She'd given up so much when she'd been waiting for him to give her all he'd said he would. Lost more when it had all come crashing down. The friends she'd ditched to be available for him then had ditched her. Her parents had been appalled. The only thing
she'd been able to do was get the hell out of that town and start afresh.

She'd promised herself that she'd never make that kind of mistake again. Yet here she was putting out for a guy who wanted nothing more from her. Allowing herself to be basically used because her stupid heart had got ideas above its station. And it was so much worse this time. Because this time she'd truly fallen. It wasn't about being the one chosen over another, about being picked first for once in her life. It had been that before—all about being the woman who won. And she hadn't.

She had her eyes wide open now, no more naïve fantasy. There was no other woman here. Only her but she still wasn't going to win. The pleasure she got from being with Seth was deep and real. She knew his faults. She knew he was arrogant and proud but also unforgiving. She loved him anyway. But she had to shatter it because
he
didn't love her. And that wasn't going to change.

‘They were married and I was the other woman,' she said harshly. ‘I'm the temptress tart, Seth. I'm the kind of woman you hate.'

He'd frozen. Something hard glittered in his eyes—cutting her heart like diamond-tipped blades. Suddenly she couldn't resist trying to explain it—not excuse it, but explain it.

‘I know
exactly
how it happened and he was no lily-white old fool who got trapped,' she said in a rush. ‘He chased me. In the beginning he chased so hard. He told me he was separated. I wouldn't touch him until he'd said the divorce was under way. He even showed me a lawyer's letter. It was fiction. He chased and chased and I was stupidly flattered. Once he'd got what he wanted, that's when he began to cool, but by then I didn't see it. I was seduced by the attention. I wanted it all and more. I believed he loved me. I believed
his promises.' She'd been a naïve, needy idiot and she wasn't going to be that girl any more. ‘I'm not going to be used like that again. And that's what's happening here. I can't keep seeing you when you can't give me what I want.'