Reprieve.
She had not expected this.
She had woken alone in a bed in the glass house, and the enormity of what she had done had made her flee like a thief in the night.Not what she had done toBen.What she had done to this man, the one who turned up unexpectedly with gifts—a Birkin bag worth more than her first flat; perfume housed in a bottle so astonishing she’d had it photographed, the picture now hanging as an artwork in her bedroom; a crystal tumbler he’d persuaded a queen was a fake so he could steal it and give it to her—the man she’d now betrayed.
Kate considered the information she’d gleaned from the computer.
What it might mean to her.
Reprieve was not forgiveness.Not at all.But somehow itfeltlike it.In this, Nikolas had surprised her.Given her a glimpse perhaps of the man Ben Rider knew.Loved.
Upon reflection, she decided she’d have preferred Nikolas Mikkelsen’s fury.
She didn’t know what to do with his forgiveness.His kindness.
Her guilt.
* * *
When Nikolas returned to the house, the others had left, and Ben was in the kitchen with Radulf.They were both examining the contents of the fridge hopefully.It was such a familiar scene Nikolas forgot for a moment.He went up behind Ben, slid his arms around him and kissed under his ear.“Did you enjoy your lunch?”
Ben shied away with an embarrassed laugh, rubbing the side of his neck.He recovered quickly and began to chat about Tim and ask questions about the meeting, but Nikolas felt a sense of bleakness in his heart he couldn’t dispel.Despite what they’d done with their bodies over the last few days, Ben was uncomfortable with a casual kiss and an affectionate hug.He sat at the table, listening to Ben, drinking the tea he was offered, and realised with something like shock that their situation was almost exactly the same as it had been for the first few years they’d known each other—only reversed.Now he was the one who wanted something Ben was unwilling or unable to give.Was this how it had been for Ben?All those meetings in hotels or snatched afternoons at Barton Combe?Sex, yes—plentiful and extremely satisfying.But Ben had wanted more and Nikolas had known it.
Ben had stopped talking.Nikolas flicked back into the room.Ben was staring at him.He knew that look.
For the first time, Nikolas went to bed with Ben Rider wishing he didn’t have to—wishing they could watch a movie together, go for a walk, try to cook something edible, anything else but this, which had always been so easy between them.For the first time, what he was missing hit Nikolas with full force.He did what was required of him, but his heart wasn’t in it.
Ben didn’t even notice.
He apparently didn’t know Nikolas well enough to spot the difference.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-one
They returned to Devon the next morning.The old familiar drive.Ben drove the whole way listening to Radio 1.Nikolas couldn’t summon the energy to make him turn it off.
He was very glad to arrive home, therefore, and even more relieved when Ben announced he was going for a run.They both needed Ben to expel some of his boundless energy.They both needed the peace and quiet and the headspace that distance gave them.When Ben emerged from the bedroom in some running gear, Nikolas merely grunted, “Don’t get lost, and don’t fall in a bog,” to which Ben replied with a derisive snort.
* * *
Ben jogged slowly to the western border of the grounds, to where an old dry stone wall separated them from the open moors and sat on the lichen-covered rocks to tie his laces more securely.He eyed the moors, wondering which direction he usually went.He looked south, down along the line of the wall.He pouted over confused recollections.Someone who hadn’t experienced this would never understand.It wasn’t as if his mind was a blank page, more like a place filled with tendrils of memory, some almost substantial, some very hazy, but all twined together so the strong image was interrupted by a weak one that might not be related at all.If he couldn’t remember anything it would be easier.Now his head hurt all the time with the attempt to untangle the confusion, form fog into the rain of remembrance.
Very hesitantly, he began to run south.After a mile or so, he came to an obvious path to his left back into the grounds and followed it, ducking under ancient oaks.At last he came out into a clearing.
There was an old stone chapel.
* * *
Nikolas heard Ben returning a couple of hours later.He’d taken the opportunity of his absence to swim for an hour and now he was organising Ulyana Ivanovna’s flights from Russia for Christmas before going for a ride.Usually Ben came in from a run and either went straight into the shower, or found him and dragged him to the shower, too.After ten minutes of neither of these happening, Nikolas went to find him to see if he wanted to ride as well.
Ben was standing in the kitchen, back to Nikolas, staring out over the grounds.Nikolas went up to him and slid his hands around Ben’s waist, tentatively, remembering the reception he’d received the day before.Ben didn’t shy away, but then he hardly acknowledged him at all.He was cold, which was unusual after a run.Nikolas frowned.“Go and shower or you’ll stiffen up.”He bit lightly into Ben’s neck and amended this to, “Go and shower and hopefully you’ll stiffen up for my return.I’m going riding.Or I could stay and help with the…stiffening.”
Ben nodded, not apparently listening.“I—” He turned in Nikolas’s arms and gave him a searing look.His eyes were red, as if he’d been exposed to too much second-hand smoke.He seemed about to say something but instead just swallowed and walked slowly away.
Nikolas watched Ben for a moment until he heard a car on the gravel and turned to see Squeezy arriving.It distracted him just enough not to follow Ben, and then he saw the glorious winter day and wanted to be up on the moors.
* * *
