“Why not?”
She frowned. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to explain about her engagement, how long she and Aaron had been together, how fresh the breakup still was, how much it still hurt like a bitch. But when she thought of speaking the words, it hollowed her out. In her story, she was the victim. Ahapless fool of a woman who’d loved without thinking, who’d sacrificed everything for the man she thought was her soulmate, and she really didn’t want Raf seeing her that way.
“Is it that unusual?”
His lips flickered in that way he had, as though he was thinking something he didn’t want to share. “For me, yes.”
Curiosity sparked inside of her. For all she had her reasons for being the way she was, he undoubtedly did likewise. And a part of her wanted to unpick those reasons, thread by thread. To really come to understand him. But to what end? He’d made it abundantly clear that’s not what this night was.
“Where are we going?”
Another twist of his mouth. “Mayfair.”
“OfcourseMayfair.” Where else would someone like him life?
He seemed to be closer but neither of them had moved. Only, with every mile the car ate up, she felt increasingly aware of him. “So, what changed your mind?”
“You already know the answer to that.”
“Regret?”
She glanced towards the window instead of looking directly at him. Regret, yes, but also, anger. Anger at her ex, at the way he could so callously ask her for a favour after throwing a grenade into her life.
“Something like that.”
“You don’t have to tell me, Elodie.” God, but she loved hearing him say her name. He made it sound like a song: a beautiful, haunted song that pulled at the fibres of her soul. “All I care about is that youdidchange your mind.”
She’d been socertain when she’d walked out of the bar, but her insides were looping in on themselves now, and by the time hiscar slipped into a small alley and then into a double garage, she was a bundle of feelings. Nervousness, anticipation, anger, sadness. A sense that she was betraying Aaron, even when he was the one who’d done that. A feeling that her life was about to shift in a whole new direction. But there was also excitement, because for so long she’d given everything to Aaron and to the building of their shared life, with no regard forherlife, her wishes, her needs.
The driver came around and opened Elodie’s door, but by the time she stepped out, Raf was standing there, his large frame somehow reassuring and essential. The hand he put in the small of her back was light, a chivalrous gesture designed to guide her away from the car and through the spacious garage, somehow a contradiction to the suave air he’d exuded in the bar.
From the garage—who had a spacious garage in Mayfair, anyway?—they stepped into a long corridor, subtly lit with marble tiles and high ceilings, and a wall of windows that opened onto a garden with big, old trees. They were illuminated from the base, glowing with a hint of gold, so she knew in daylight, it would be quite spectacular. Like most of the properties in the area, she presumed his house to be Georgian, but inside, it was an homage to sleek modernity, from the polished dark timber features to the crisp white walls, and minimalist artwork. They entered into a large, open-plan living space, with a crystal chandelier in the centre of the room.
“Nice place,” she murmured, aware it was an epic understatement. His place was more like a palace.
“I’m glad you like it.”
She wrinkled her nose, aware she hadn’t said that, exactly. For while it was undoubtedly an incredible home, there was something so cold and sterile about the way it was decorated, with no hint of Raf’s individual personality. It felt as though he were simply housesitting, she thought, glancing around. Thenagain, this was only one part of the house, perhaps he liked to keep certain spaces clear of anything too personal.
“Drink?”
She opened her mouth to demur, then changed her mind. Her nerves were rioting and a sip of something might calm them. “Sure. Whatever you’re having.”
His features showed amusement, but he didn’t say anything to contradict her, instead, striding across the room to a discreetly furnished bar. He removed a bottle of something and poured two glasses, carrying them both back across the room. This time, he came close, though, standing almost toe to toe with her, so every single cell in her body both rejoiced and panicked.
“To tonight,” he said, passing the drink to her.
She took it, grimacing a little at the strong scent, before letting it touch her lips. She had the smallest of sips, and was glad, because even that miniscule amount landed in her belly like an explosion of acid. Unlike her, Raf threw the whole glass back in one motion.
“You were right,” he said, lips twisting in a smile that made her insides heat. “You’re not a drinker.”
“No,” she murmured.
“Why do you sound apologetic?”
Her eyes widened. “Do I?”
He nodded once, taking the glass from her. “You don’t need to be anything other than who you are.”
