Now Ellie was here. He could see that she could barely keep herself together and he couldn’t blame her. So guarded, so incredibly private, and now thrust into the limelight in ways that she would find horrifying.
He thought of her returning to work, braving those first steps in and knowing that the gossip mill would have been working overtime, and he inwardly winced.
No point dwelling on it, he decided. A self-pity fest wasn’t going to get either of them anywhere.
‘A united front and point-blank denial from both of us will kill this rumour dead,’ he promised. ‘I could have contacted people I know in that field and put the record straight, but I had to find out what was going on over here. I also baulk at having to justify anything to anyone,’ he admitted. ‘I’m assuming you know who is behind this?’
Ellie nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
‘I don’t have to tell you that my ex has chosen to wage war on the wrong man.’ His face hardened. ‘She will find out that my influence extends much further than she could ever expect. I suggest we face the press together and laugh this whole thing off. It will be an easy enough job to put the blame where it rightfully belongs—on the shoulders of an ex with an axe to grind.’
‘It’s...it’s not as simple as that.’
James frowned. What could more complex?
‘Have your family...? Has it reached them over there?’
‘Izzy has a fondness for tabloids and all things gossip.’ He half smiled wryly. ‘She probably knew before the print on the paper had time to dry.’
‘And have you...told them anything? Have they been in touch?’
‘I thought it best to say nothing until I had spoken to you.’
This was why she had crossed that line, Ellie thought. It had nothing to do with how he looked, the reach of his wealth and influence or even the fact that he was far and away the most dynamic, intelligent, forward-thinking, downrightfascinatingperson she had ever met.
It was because he was a decent guy.
She’d somehow managed to convince herself that the sort of man she would eventually go for would be a stereotype, as though decent guys all came wrapped up in the same packaging. But James Stowe, on the surface just the sort she couldn’t possibly fall for, ticked every single box when it came to being one of the good guys. And that, she knew now, was why sleeping with him had felt soright.
He might not love her, or even care about her the way she loved and cared about him, but he had still thought to consider her amidst all of this, to hear what she had to say.
‘My mother has been in touch with me,’ Ellie said flatly. ‘Several times.’ She sipped the wine and felt the rush of alcohol to her head.
He said nothing but his sudden stillness was telling, as was the way he was looking at her, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, head tilted to one side.
‘And?’ he prompted softly when she lapsed into awkward silence.
‘And she’s very excited.’
‘Ah...’
‘I never thought she indulged in gossip mags, but it seems that that’s her secret vice.’ Ellie smiled wanly. ‘It seems that it’s the secret vice of her entire book club.’ She sighed and looked at him steadily. ‘When she phoned me, I honestly had no idea she would have been phoning to tell me how pleased she was for me.’
‘Go on,’ he encouraged quietly.
‘It was the happiest I’d heard her sound in a long time. In fact, just before I flew over to Barbados, I was actually beginning to worry that she was going to give in to her depression again. It’s plagued her over the years and, although the doctor would never confirm in so many words, I think that her depression and all the associated stress had something to do with her strokes. She was pleased that I was going to Barbados... Maybe she doesn’t need me as she once did, but underneath it all I still worry that she could so easily slide back down that hill. She called...she called and she was so pleased for me.’
‘I see.’
Ellie didn’t have to read the expression on his face to know what was going through his head.
He’d banked on a swift explanation to the press, probably a couple of phone calls and a joint statement from them both, shrugging off the whole sorry saga.
Yes, Naomi had exaggerated everything wildly out of context, but a woman scorned, he would doubtless insinuate, would be capable of any number of things from slashing tyres to fabricating ruinous stories.
He rightfully assumed that, if you gave too much airtime to gossip, you breathed life into it.
But now...
