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‘But she sent you a dress again?’ He tried to keep what seeing her in that dress did to him out of his voice.
‘No. I designed this one.’
‘You’ve never made anything like this for yourself before.’
‘I know. It was...a special occasion. Your mom’s sixtieth birthday,’ she added quickly. But it was too late. He’d already figured out that she’d made the dress because of him.
He wasn’t sure if he was pleased or annoyed by the fact. He’d been trying to get her to make something for herself for years. Now, when they were...whatever they were, she’d chosen to listen to him.
Perhaps that was why she’d left. Because he’d been holding her back. He’d add it to the list of possibilities. A list that spoke loudly—accusingly—of his faults.
‘I’m sure she would have if you hadn’t told her you’d sort yourself out,’ he said to distract himself. ‘And she arranged the plane for you. And the car to get you here. She’s a regular old fairy godmother,’ he added dryly.
‘No. No,’ she said again. ‘That can’t be it. She wouldn’t have arranged all of this just to play at being a fairy godmother.’
‘She did it before. When we met.’
‘That was just as much my mom as it was yours.’
‘Somehow, I think my mother had more to do with it.’ His shoulders tightened. ‘She likes to think she doesn’t live in the real world. And now, with this, she gets to play the perfect role. The good guy. The fairy godmother. To orchestrate a happy ever after.’
‘For you and me?’
‘Who else?’ he asked sharply, hating the surprise in her voice. She winced, stepped back, brushed at her hair again. It spiralled around her face in that free and slightly wild way her curls dictated.
‘You’re saying your mother tricked us into being here together because she wants us to...reconcile?’ He nodded. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Maybe because we were happily married until I got home one day to find you’d disappeared?’ She blanched. ‘Or maybe I’d fooled myself into believing we were happy.’
She bit her lip, looked away. ‘Did she tell you that she wanted us to have a happy ever after?’
He gritted his teeth, then forced himself to relax. Control was key. ‘Not directly. But she’s been urging me to contact you for the last four months.’ He cocked his head. ‘How did she contact you?’
‘My...email. I’ve been checking my emails.’
Tension vibrated between them. As did the unspoken words.
I’ve been checking my emails. I just haven’t replied to yours.
‘I was always going to attend her birthday, Aaron,’ Rosa said softly. ‘You know this is about more than your mother. More than you and me.’
He did. Rosa’s mother had made his mother promise to celebrate each birthday with vigour. A reminder that they’d lived. That they’d had a life.
That had been a deathbed promise.
It angered him even more that his mother would use her birthday as an opportunity for her scheme. In all the years she’d manipulated situations—in all the years she’d blamed her ‘zest for life’ for interfering in other people’s lives—she’d never done anything this...conniving.
And in all the years since he’d taken responsibility for Liana since he’d realised she wouldn’t take responsibility herself, Aaron had never felt more betrayed.
Or perhaps the betrayal he felt about Rosa leaving was intensifying his reaction.
Whatever it was, he wouldn’t allow it to control him any more. He walked to the door...and cursed when he found it locked.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_21344146-14c7-5939-b3e8-a725f5c9cfd5)
‘WHAT?’ ROSA ASKED, anxiety pounding with her heart. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s locked.’
‘It’s—what?’ She strode past him and tried the handle of the door. It turned, but no amount of pressure made it open. ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘This is not happening. We are not locked in here. There must be some mistake.’
Panic spurred her movements and she reached into the clutch she’d forgotten was in her hand. She took her phone out. ‘I have signal!’ she said triumphantly. ‘Only a few bars, but it should work. Who should I call?’
‘I suppose we could try the police.’ His calm voice was a stark contrast to the atmosphere around them.
‘Do you have the number?’
‘No.’
She stared at him. ‘How do you not have the number of the police?’
‘It’s on my phone. It’s dead,’ he said, nodding in the direction of the table where it lay.
‘You didn’t charge it,’ she said with a sigh. It was something he did—or didn’t do—regularly. Which had driven her crazy on good days. This day had been anything but good.
But if he was going to pretend to be calm—if he was going to pretend he wasn’t freaking out when she knew that he was—she could too.
‘Okay, so we don’t have the number for the police station. I’m assuming that covers all emergency services?’ He nodded. ‘I guess we better hope that nothing happens during this storm,’ she muttered, and scanned her contacts for the number she was looking for.
As if in response to her words, a streak of lightning whipped across the sky. It was closely followed by booms of thunder. Rosa closed her eyes and brought the phone to her ear.
‘Liana, we’re locked in,’ Rosa said the moment she heard Liana’s voice—distant, crackling—on the phone.
‘Rosa?’
‘Yes, it’s Rosa. Aaron and I are trapped on the top floor of the house.’
‘What?’ Static dulled the sound of Liana’s voice even more. ‘Did you get to the house safely?’
‘I’m fine. But we’re locked in, so we can’t get off the top floor.’
Liana didn’t reply and Rosa looked at the phone to see if they’d been cut off, but the call was still ongoing.
‘Here, let me try,’ Aaron said and she handed him the phone. And bit back the response that him speaking to his mother couldn’t magically make the connection better.
‘Mom? We’re locked on the top floor of the house. Hello? Hello?’
Rosa waited as Aaron fell silent, and then he looked at the display on the phone and sighed. ‘It cut off. I don’t think she got any of that.’
‘We could try someone else—’
She broke off when thunder echoed again, this time followed by a vicious flash of lightning. And then everything went dark.
‘Aaron?’
‘Yeah, I’m here.’
Her panic ebbed somewhat with the steadiness of his voice. ‘Does this mean what I think it means?’
‘Yeah, the power went out.’ She heard movement, and then the light of her phone shone between them. ‘The generator should be kicking in soon though.’
Silence spread between them as they waited.
And relief took the place of tension when the lights flickered on again.
‘I think we’re going to be stuck here for a while,’ Aaron said after a moment.
‘We could just try calling someone again.’
‘Who?’
‘Look up the number for the police,’ she snapped. Sucked in a breath. Told herself her confident façade was slipping. Ignored the voice in her head telling her it had slipped a long time ago.
Aaron didn’t reply and tapped on the screen of the phone. Then he looked up. ‘There’s no signal. It must have something to do with the electricity being out.’
‘That’s impossible. We can’t not have a connection.’
‘It’s Mariner’s Island,’ he said simply, as though it explained everything.
And, if she were honest with herself, it did. Mariner’s Island was tiny. The locals who lived and worked there did so for the sake of tourism. And it was the perfect tourist destination. In the summer. When the demands on power and the likelihood of storms were low.
There was a reason the airport had closed over the weekend. A reason the lights had gone out. The island thrived during summer, but survived during winter.
A clap of thunder punctuated her thoughts and she turned in time to see another flash of lightning streak across the sky. She badly wanted to try the door again, but when she turned back she saw Aaron watching her. And if she tried the door again she would be proving him right. She would be proving to him that she was running. She would look like a fool.
She didn’t want to look like a fool. A fool desperate not to be in the same room with the husband she’d left.
With the husband she still loved.
* * *
Again, Aaron found himself enthralled by the emotion on her face. She looked torn, though he didn’t know between what.
It wasn’t the ideal situation, them being locked in this room together. But it was what it was. And, since the storm was probably going to keep the good folk of Mariner’s Island in their homes, no one would be saving them for a while.
They’d have to accept that fact and do the best that they could.
It almost seemed as if he were okay with it. As if being alone with the woman who’d left him wouldn’t remind him of all the reasons he’d given himself for why she’d left.
His reluctance to be spontaneous. His caution surrounding their lives. How he always had to clean up the messes his mother created. How he did so without a word.
She hadn’t seemed to mind any of it before. But then she’d left, so what did he know?
‘You should turn your phone off.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Preserve the battery.’ He took off his jacket, loosened his tie. Threw them both over the couch. ‘We’re not calling anyone for a while, but we’ll have to do so tomorrow.’
‘But what if someone tries to contact us?’
‘No one is going to contact us.’
He opened the top button of his shirt, and then narrowed his eyes when he saw two suitcases in the corner of the room. He’d known something was up when he’d got to the top floor and saw that it hadn’t been set up for a party. Instead, it looked as it usually did when they visited normally.
Perhaps that had dulled his suspicions. He’d thought his mother had wanted them to share a meal, or that they’d meet there before going to the actual party.
He should have known better.
The pieces had only fallen into place when he’d seen Rosa. And he’d barely managed to see the whole picture those pieces painted when he’d been battling the emotion at seeing her again.
He walked over to the cases and laid them both on the bed. The first held men’s clothing. The second, women’s.
‘Is that lingerie?’
His lips twitched. ‘Yes.’
She’d come over from where she’d been standing on the opposite side of the bed and now began to throw the offending items out of the case. ‘Well, at least there are some other things here too.’ She paused. ‘Did your mother pack this?’
He shrugged.
‘The other things—’ she pulled out a casual-looking dress, holding it between her index finger and thumb ‘—are less...seductive, I suppose. But I don’t think any of them would fit me.’ She frowned. ‘If it was your mother, this makes no sense. She knows what size I am.’
‘Maybe the selection was meant to seduce anyway.’ He fought to steady his voice. ‘You’d be able to wear that, but it would be tighter than what you’re used to. Or more uncomfortable. So you’d—’
‘Be encouraged to wear the lingerie?’
‘I was going to say you’d look different.’ He said the words deliberately now, determined not to show her how the conversation was messing with his head.
‘There’s nothing wrong with how I usually dress.’
‘No,’ he agreed.
‘So...what? Tighter, more uncomfortable—different—clothing would seduce you? And then we’d reunite.’ She said the last words under her breath, as though saying them to herself. ‘There isn’t anything I can wear here that’s appropriate for this.’ She gestured around them.
‘I don’t think my mother intended this.’
‘Us being trapped?’
