His gut tensed. He could see the hurt in her eyes, but he couldn’t bail now. He’d led her here after all. If he didn’t admit to some resentment, then this explanation wasn’t going to fly, but he needed to tread softly.
He nodded. ‘Honestly—yes, but I knew it was wrong to feel that way. You didn’t write the will. None of this is your fault. You’re tied, like me.’
She let out a sigh. ‘Okay.’
‘When we came out last month, I was resigned to just getting on with it since I couldn’t change it, but I wasn’t feeling it...’ An image flew in, making a smile tug: Quinn, raking at the wall with her pen, scattering debris. ‘Not until you took me in hand, tried to open my eyes up—’
She puffed her cheeks out. ‘Your eyes were more open than mine! You were the one who saw the hole in the floor.’
‘It’s not the only thing I saw...’ He felt the guilt shifting again. ‘After what happened, I knew I had to take my share, show you I was stepping up.’
A smile touched her lips. ‘It wasn’t lost on me. You were on fire with Julia after.’
‘And I felt better for it, for involving myself. And then we went for lunch, and it was so warm, and pleasant. And I was looking at the view...’ and you ‘...thinking how wonderful everything looked...’ especially you ‘...and you were telling me bits of history, telling me about your walk, and I found myself thinking how nice it would have been to be with you...’
‘But then...?’
His insides coiled. The trickiest part—building a bridge between the warm fuzzy stuff and what happened next. The truth with a small change of emphasis...
He swallowed hard. ‘Okay, just bear with me here. You know how sometimes when you’re falling asleep you can suddenly jolt awake because you’ve fallen off a kerb or something?’
Her eyebrows went up. ‘You fell off a kerb?’
‘Yes, sort of...’ This had sounded so much more plausible in his head. Would she get it, understand at all? He inhaled, tightening his gaze on hers. ‘In that moment, it’s as if I suddenly caught myself in the act, liking Lisbon, getting sucked in. I remembered it was Dad’s dream, not mine—something he thrust upon me, something I was angry about, tied to because of him, and because of that I shouldn’t be letting myself enjoy anything about it.’
Her mouth tightened. ‘So then you thought, what...?’ Hurt was surfacing in her eyes, glistening. ‘That since you couldn’t enjoy it, you might as well dump on me, stop me enjoying it too?’
‘No!’ His heart seized. ‘It wasn’t like that! It was nothing against you! It was all me—my mess...total internal combustion. Meltdown! And I couldn’t level myself out afterwards, so I shut down. And I know that hurt you, and I’m sorry because you didn’t deserve it.’
She looked away. ‘No, I didn’t.’
His heart sank. After all that, turning her head away, not forgiving him. What could he do, say, to turn this around?
You could play your last card...
He paused to breathe, pushed his hands through his hair. ‘I wanted to call you, Quinn. To say sorry. I got my phone out a million times to do it, but after the way you strode off at the airport, I couldn’t get up the nerve.’ He swallowed hard. ‘So, I thought if I engineered a trip...’
Her gaze swung back, interested now. ‘Engineered?’
‘Yes.’ He could feel the tips of his ears starting to blaze but if this was what it took... ‘I wanted to see you. Fix things. I thought I’d stand a better chance if I made it seem like it was business.’
She inclined her head. ‘I did wonder.’
His pulse quickened. Her gaze was brightening, opening by a few heartening degrees.
He ventured a half-smile. ‘But you said yes, anyway.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘I was curious, okay? I didn’t like the way we left things and I figured, since you seemed desperate to tack this trip onto the end of your Paris trip, that it was possible you were feeling the same.’ She dipped her chin at him. ‘Unless not flying—avec moi—from London was pure coincidence?’
Rumbled! But what better feeling than when it was coupled with seeing amusement growing in those gorgeous gold-brown eyes?
‘Not a coincidence, no.’ He couldn’t hold in a smile. ‘I did wonder if you’d spot it.’
Her eyes flared. ‘What—the pupil becoming the master?’ And then, joy of joys, she was laughing, that same infectious chuckle she’d let loose on him in the boardroom that day. ‘Only completely totally!’ And then she was shaking her head. ‘Seriously, though, initial awkwardness aside, it would have been so much easier talking in the airport lounge using plain speech, instead of outside the hotel in code with Filipe chiming in every two seconds. He must have thought we were both mad as hatters!’
Warm eyes. Warm smile. Was he forgiven? He couldn’t push her to say it. The main thing was they were through it, somehow, sweltering on this pavement but smiling at each other, twinkling.
He offered up a shrug. ‘I’m not saying every idea I have is a good one.’
‘Can I quote you on that, as I see fit?’
Adorable mischief in her eyes. How could he possibly say no?
He opened his palms. ‘Any time.’
She grinned. ‘Good!’ And then she was turning to look along the street, still smiling. ‘So, now that we’ve sorted all that out, how about we find ourselves some shade and a couple of cold ones?’
CHAPTER TEN
‘THIS IS PERFECT!’ Will was smiling round at the pretty square and then his eyes met hers, seeming to light on the small doubt she could feel nagging. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to decide suddenly that I shouldn’t be letting myself think that. No more kerbs, Quinn.’ He shook his head. ‘Been there, done that, not going back.’
Conviction in his eyes. In his voice.
She felt something giving inside, a hot ache filling her throat. Yes, he had hurt her the last time they were here, but now he seemed so aware, so tuned in to her, just as he had all those years ago, standing in her doorway, the same warmth and kindness shining through his gaze now as then. She had let him pass her by back then, but not this time—no way!—because just twenty minutes ago he’d looked into her eyes and told her he liked her and, in spite of all the messy explaining that followed, that was a huge step forward, not only because it had touched her stupid, needy heart but because it was going to make carrying out Anthony’s mission easier...
She let her eyes loose on his face. Smooth arching brows, straight nose. That adorable upturn at the corners of his mouth. And those eyes, royal blue in this light, windows to a tortured soul. She could feel her heart flowing out, wanting to soothe that soul, because he was under her skin now—somehow—must have slipped under when she wasn’t looking. Maybe when he’d been pulling her back from the brink that day, or when he’d been messing up his hair to make her laugh. Or maybe it was the subtle but completely obvious desperation in his email that had broken her open, or his gallant stab at explaining himself in front of Filipe.
Whatever!
