Chapter 30

Thirty

They stopped less than a foot apart, enveloped in uncharacteristic awkwardness.

Tamara didn’t know whether to hug Ethan or strangle him; for making her love him, crave him, wait for him.

“You came.”

“I had to.” He smiled, his casual shrug belying the determined glint in his eyes. “Though you could’ve given me a precise time.”

“How long have you been waiting?”

“Since the crack of dawn.”

“Are you nuts?”

She conveniently omitted to tell him she’d been crazy enough to be here every day for a week on the off chance he’d show up early.

“Yeah.” He stepped closer, swamping her in warmth and charisma and magic. “I’m nuts about you.”

Her heart swelled, filled to overflowing with love for Ethan. He’d come, which meant he cared enough to take a chance on them.

But did he love her?

She needed to hear him say it, craving a declaration more than her next chai fix.

Trying to hide the cobra’s nest of nerves twisting and coiling in her stomach, she took a step forward and slid her hand into his.

“The feeling’s mutual.” She squeezed his hand, knowing his presence here spoke louder than words ever could, but needing to have everything out in the open for them to move forward. “Do you know why I chose here?”

His fingertips skated over her cheek, lingered on her jaw, before dropping to her shoulder, his touch firm and comforting as always.

“Because when we were here, you said it made you feel safe. And I understand that now, your need for security.”

“Do you really?” Her gaze searched his, needing reassurance, desperate for it. She wanted to believe him, wanted to believe in him. “Because I needed to feel safe when I discovered the baby’s existence and you weren’t there for me.”

Shadows drifted across his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She accepted his apology but it didn’t eradicate her doubts. Not now, after they’d shared so much, been through so much together.

“Why did you shut me out?”

He squeezed her shoulder before releasing it, turning away and dragging a hand through his hair, but not before she glimpsed his expression.

Shame.

Ethan Brooks, the man who had it all, was ashamed.

He dragged in a deep breath, another, before turning back to face her. “I didn’t want to have to tell you this, any of it.”

He was struggling; she could see it in the muscle twitching in his jaw, in his thinly compressed lips. It looked like she wasn’t the only one with enough baggage to bring India’s railway system to a screeching halt.

“Tell me, Ethan. If nothing else, we’re still friends.”

His head reared up like she’d poked him. “I want to be more than friends, damn it. I want—”

“Then give us a chance.” She softened her tone. “Tell me.”

He raked his hand through his hair again. “I’ve never told anyone this.”

She waited, wondering what could rattle him this badly.

He inhaled, puffed out his cheeks, before blowing out a breath, his expression pained. “I was jealous that day at Ambrosia , furious you were still hung up over Rich—”

“But I’m not—”

“If you are or aren’t doesn’t really excuse how I treated you. What really pushed my buttons was not being in control of the situation. And that’s something I don’t like, not being in control.”

“You’re a businessman, a successful one, it figures.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the reason.”

He paused and she knew by the bleakness in his eyes he had to be leading up to something big.

“I used to be a street-kid. Dumped by my mother when I was five, shoved from foster family to family, scrounging on the streets from the age of thirteen.”

Sorrow gripped her heart. “I had no idea, I’m so sorry.”

A wry smile twisted his mouth. “We’re doing a lot of that, apologising. Not real romantic, is it?”

“This is about honesty.”

As for romance, it would come. Having him open up to her, knowing how much it cost him, told her they had a future, a great one.

“This is about honesty, and us.” He scanned her face, searching for reassurance. “This has always been about us, Tam. I’m not telling you all this for any other reason than to give us a second chance.”

He cupped her chin, and tipped it up. “Do you believe in second chances?”

“You have to ask me that?”

Heck, she was the queen of second chances. She’d given Richard enough of them: after he’d stood her up the first time, after he’d blown her off for a restaurant opening, after she’d caught him kissing a waitress within six months of their marriage.

Yet here was this incredibly honest man standing in front of her, his feelings shining bright in his eyes, asking her for a second chance. How loud could she scream yes without getting arrested?

Holding out her hand to him, she said, “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

“That’s not exactly the answer I was hoping for.”

She smiled, recognising the instant he glimpsed the love in her eyes, because his widened and the flicker of doubt eased. “I have so much I want to say to you, but let’s go somewhere quieter.”

He glanced around, confusion creasing his brow. “You can’t get much quieter than this. The closest couple is twenty metres away.”

She tapped the side of her nose. “Trust me, I know somewhere quieter.”

Sliding his hand into hers, she sighed as their fingers intertwined. This felt right, had always felt right from the first moment he’d held her hand at Colva Beach.

Leading him to the furthest corner of the garden, she pointed to a young Cyprus tree. “I’ve come here a few times over the last week. Seems I do my best thinking here.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You’ve been here for a week?”

“Don’t ask.”

When he opened his mouth to do just that, she laughed. “I was hoping you might get here early, okay? How desperate is that?”

He brushed the barest of kisses across her lips, her eyes welling at his tenderness. But she had to say this, had to make sure he knew where she was coming from.

She slipped her hand out of his, sank down, and patted the ground next to her. “I also came here to think, to figure out some stuff. Seems like every second person in this country is intent on predicting my fortune. I can’t even get a massage these days without the therapist giving me a free glimpse into the future.”

He chuckled, and sat next to her. “So, what’s in the cards?”

She opened her mouth to respond and he held up both hands and waved them in front of her. “On second thoughts, I don’t want to know if they predicted some tall, dark, and handsome stranger sweeping you off your feet.”

He winked, his rakish smile so heartrendingly familiar she leaned towards him without realising. “Unless they mentioned me by name, that is.”

She hugged her knees close and rested her chin on them, staring at the Taj Mahal, a translucent ivory in the dusk.

“Honestly? I’ve done so much thinking this last week I’m pretty sure I can predict my own future accurately.”

She’d sat in this spot for hours; analysing her life, pondering the choices she’d made, knowing she should learn from mistakes of the past in building a better, brighter future.

While she felt safe here, she hadn’t quite achieved the peace she’d hoped for, gripped by restlessness no matter how many hours she tried meditating.

She knew why.

The reason was staring her in the face with concern in his eyes.

“Go ahead. Give it to me straight. What does the future hold for Tamara Rayne?”

Now that the moment of truth had arrived, she baulked. Ethan had surprised her, turning up when she half expected him not to. If he hadn’t come, she’d had some vague, pie in the sky dream, a nebulous idea she’d pondered at great length, debating the logistics of a long distance relationship, wondering if they could make it work.

But she couldn’t shake off the fear that still dogged her, the fear that she’d finally recognised as undermining her relationship with Ethan right from the very beginning.

She shrugged, hugged her knees tighter. “My future is here. I’ve put feelers out and loads of the big newspapers and online sites are after food critics. Plus I can freelance to some of travel magazines and—”

“While it’s great your career is back on track, I’m more interested in you. What does the future hold for you ?”

Us , is what he really meant. The unsaid hovered between them, temptingly within reach if she had the guts to reach out and grab it.

She took a deep breath and shuffled around to face him. In the fading light, with the low-hanging branches casting shadows over his face, she couldn’t read his expression, and she needed to.

He’d come all this way, but there’d been no declaration, no emotional reunion, just two people dancing around each other, throwing out the odd snippet of truth.

Should she put her heart on the line once and for all?

Confront her fear at the risk of losing the love of her life?

“I guess some of my future depends on you.”

He didn’t move a muscle, not the slightest flicker.

“I’ve done a lot of soul-searching this last week and the only thing I regret in leaving Melbourne is not being completely honest with you,” she said, her heart pounding at the thought of baring her innermost thoughts to him.

“I’m listening.”

She stretched out her legs, which were cramping as badly as her stomach.

“When I ran out of Ambrosia that day, I didn’t correct your wrong assumptions. I was too disappointed, too caught up in the moment, I wasn’t thinking straight. It wasn’t until later, much later, that I realised how it must’ve looked.”

“You still love Richard, I know—”

Her gaze snapped to his, beseeching him to understand. “No, you don’t know. I don’t love him, I probably never loved him.”

She bit her bottom lip, knowing she sounded callous but needing to get this out of her system. “I’d barely dated before I met him, then suddenly this brash, famous guy is all over me. I was flattered, in awe he’d paid attention to a nobody like me, probably a tad in love, and the next thing I know we’re married.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “I always thought you were happy?”

“We were, for the first few months. I loved being married, loved how safe I felt having a husband who adored me. But then his lies started. And the rest.”

Her heart twisted at the memories of what she’d endured all in the name of ‘for better or worse’.

“Did you know he was passive-aggressive? I started walking around on eggshells, doing the right things, saying the right things, in an effort to avoid the inevitable explosion if things didn’t go his way.”

The first time she’d been privy to Richard’s vile temper, she’d accidentally eaten a few chocolate cannoli he’d prepared to impress a potential investor. He’d been livid, slamming pots on the bench top and flinging a baking tray at her head. If she hadn’t ducked, she would’ve ended up in hospital, and from that moment on she knew she’d made a mistake in marrying him.

She tiptoed around him, agreeing with everything he said, presenting a poised front, being the good wife he expected. While on the inside, she died a little more every day.

Ethan reached out and placed his hand over hers lying on the grass. “I saw that side of him professionally, the short fuse, but I had no idea he was like that with you.”

“No one did.” She blinked back tears, swallowing the bitterness. “How could you, when Richard Downey, Australia’s favourite celebrity chef, was all smiles for everyone who fawned over him, the life of every party?”

He squeezed her hand, pity shimmering in his eyes. “Why did you stay?”

She’d asked herself the same question a million times, and came up with different answers each time. How could she verbalise her craving for love, for security, for the perfect happily ever after scenario her parents had until her dad died?

It sounded soppy and stupid, especially after she realised Richard could never be that man for her.

“I stayed because I wanted the family I never had after my dad died. I craved it, which is probably half the reason I married him in the first place.” She shook her head. “As misguided as it sounds, at the time I thought if I could be a good wife, our marriage would stand a fighting chance.”

She wriggled her hand out from under his on the pretext of re-twisting her hair into a loose chignon, his touch too painful, too poignant, with what she had to say next.

“To avoid incurring his wrath, I became invisible. I lost my identity, my dignity, and my self-respect, for a man who didn’t care about me no matter what I did. And I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

He swore under his breath and bundled her into his arms, and she slowly relaxed as he stroked her back in long, comforting caresses. “The nightmare is over, Tam. You’re not that person anymore.”

But she was the same person, with the same fears dogging her.

Drawing back, he cradled her face in his hands. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Is it?”

In response, he lowered his head and kissed her, a slow, tender kiss on her lips, a kiss of affirmation and optimism and faith, a kiss filled with promise and hope.

The hope was the clincher.

She had to tell him, all of it.

Reaching up, she trailed her fingertips down his cheek, the familiar rasp of stubble making her palm tingle.

“I know you care about me and you’re nothing like Richard. But I’ve finally found myself again, I’m finally comfortable in my own skin, and I don’t want to risk losing that.” She eyeballed him, imploring him to understand. “For anyone.”

Wariness crept across his face. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m scared to get involved in a relationship again.” She lowered her hand and wriggled back to put some distance between them. “I’m willing to date you, Ethan, but I can’t make any promises.”

“You’re wrong.”

Confused, she stared at him.

“I don’t care about you. I love you.”

Her sharp indrawn gasp sounded harsh in the silence and his hand shot out and latched onto her wrist as if he expected her to bolt.

“And I understand. You’re scared. Scared to take a chance on a relationship for fear of losing your identity again. But hell, Tam, this is me, not Richard. I’m nothing like him. Surely you know I’d never hurt you?”

Hot, scalding tears burned the back of her eyes, tears of hope, tears of fear.

If loving Richard and losing herself had been painful, loving Ethan and losing him would be a hundred times worse.

The ever-present fear undermined her newfound confidence, whispering insidious warnings that her inner strength could vanish in a second if she made the wrong decision again.

“I know you’re nothing like him. You being here is proof enough of the lengths you’ll go to for me, but I guess the fear has been a part of me so long it’s hard to ignore.”

He shook his head, his grip unrelenting. “Do you think this is easy for me? I’ve never loved anyone let alone admitted it. I don’t trust easily—”

“Which is why you date those airheads,” she finished for him, the realisation flooring her.

After what he’d told her today—being abandoned by his mother, shoved from family to family—everything slid into place. He was just as frightened as her: frightened to love, frightened to get emotionally involved, frightened to lose control.

Yet he’d confronted his fear, overcome it, for her.

“You’re as scared as me,” she said in a hushed tone, scrabbling on her knees to get closer to him. “That’s it, isn’t it? Why you closed off that day at Ambrosia . You thought I still cared about Richard, about having his baby, and you loved me then? You were hiding your fear, weren’t you?”

His slow, reluctant nod had her launching onto his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. “We’re a good match. We can read each other’s minds, yet we don’t want to delve into our own.”

He nuzzled her neck, sending a delightful shiver skating across her skin. “I take it this means you want to take a risk on a scaredy-cat like me?”

Laughing, she pulled back and planted a loud, resounding kiss on his mouth. “You bet.”

She kissed him again, slower this time, much slower. “I love you, too. The forever kind of love.”

He smiled, his arms locked firmly around her waist, every ounce of devotion, adoration, and love blazing from his guileless gaze. “Is that your prediction?”

“Absolutely.”

He jerked his head towards the Taj Mahal, the majestic monument standing tall and strong, a silent observer of yet another romantic drama playing out in its honour.

“They say this place is mystical, the ultimate dedication to love. So, what do you say we live up to its romantic promise?”

She held her breath, her heart racing with anticipation as her mind took a flying leap into the future.

Maybe her predictive powers were developing, because she had a sneaking suspicion Ethan might be about to—

“Tam, will you marry me? I promise to love you, cherish you, let you be your own person, and do whatever you want.”

His wide smile had her grinning right back at him with elation filling her soul and joy expanding her heart.

“How can a girl refuse a proposal like that?”

“You can’t.” He stole a kiss and she poured all her love for him into it.

“You once asked me if I believed in love at first sight.”

His eyes crinkled adorably, the roguish pirate smile back. “And do you?”

“Whether first sight, short-sight or long-sight, I believe in loving you.”

As their lips met, the moon rose, casting an enchanting glow over the Taj Mahal and its latest pair of lovers bound by destiny.

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