Page 17 of Healing Hearts on Thistledown Lane: Part 3
‘Oh, stop it,’ she said, pouting. ‘It’s work.’
‘On the French Riviera,’ he observed. ‘There are worse places to do your job.’
She glanced out of the window then, at the leaden skies that hung over the grey North Sea beyond the docks, and he knew what she was thinking. As far as she was concerned, Edinburgh did not compare favourably to many places. ‘Okay, you may have a point.’ She stretched and sighed. ‘It’s been such a long day. I could murder a coffee.’
Fraser hid a smile. Naomi ran on coffee. ‘Espresso, no sugar?’
She looked pleased. ‘You remembered.’
‘Of course I remembered,’ he said, a little stung. ‘My memory’s not that bad.’
In the kitchen, he busied himself with the machine. Of all the rooms in the apartment, this one had held the fewest traces of Naomi. The juicer was hers but he assumed that was too bulky to transport back to London. Apart from that, there were some delicate crystal wine glasses he’d grown quite attached to, plus a selection of herbal teas she’d tried and abandoned for lack of caffeine. He didn’t mind if she took those, although he’d started to enjoy a camomile tea before bed. When had he grown so middle-aged? he wondered ruefully as he carried Naomi’s coffee back through to the living room. He used to drink whisky before bed.
‘Have you missed me?’ Naomi said as she curled her long legs beneath her on the sofa. ‘I’ve missed you.’
He sat beside her, taking care to maintain a discreet distance between them. The truth was that he hadn’t missed her much, once the initial shock of her absence had worn off, but he didn’t think honesty was the best policy. Not if he valued his white carpet. ‘Of course,’ he murmured. ‘But work has been mad. I did some events at the castle and they really raised our profile.’
‘I saw,’ she said. ‘You made the papers. I’ll even admit to being a little impressed.’
‘Really?’ he said, glancing at her in surprise.
‘Really,’ she echoed, and wriggled a little closer. ‘Although a lack of talent was never your problem. Lack of ambition, on the other hand…’
Fraser’s mouth twisted in amusement as she trailed off. ‘Thanks.’
She waved a hand. ‘But that’s all water under the bridge now. What’s done is done.’
‘True enough,’ he agreed, relieved she didn’t seem to be about to revisit that particularly well-worn path. ‘So where are you staying tonight? Somewhere fancy, I hope.’
‘The Balmoral,’ she said carelessly. ‘I haven’t checked in yet.’
He frowned. ‘You came straight here from the airport?’
‘I wanted to see you,’ she said, looking up through her lashes. ‘Is that so surprising?’
‘A bit,’ he admitted. ‘But I suppose it makes sense to collect your things first, give you time to enjoy the evening. Have you got plans?’
‘No plans,’ she said idly, and reached out to squeeze his bicep. ‘I thought perhaps you might like to do something.’
A faint flicker of unease rippled through Fraser. ‘I have to go to work, Naomi.’
She ran her fingers across his chest, walked them up to the soft hair of his beard. ‘I thought you’d say that,’ she said. ‘So go to work. I’ll be waiting here when you get back.’
He had to concede it was a tempting offer. Whatever the differences between him and Naomi, they had not manifested themselves in the bedroom and it would be no hardship to spend the night in her arms. But he’d never really been into one-night stands, and he knew from experience that he and Naomi couldn’t offer each other more than that. ‘And then what?’
She smiled, reaching up to caress his cheek. ‘And then we enjoy each other’s company. In the morning, I go back to London, and maybe next time you come down to visit me.’
Her face tilted towards his expectantly, and he knew she was waiting for him to kiss her. Gently, he removed her hand from his cheek. ‘We both know that won’t work.’
‘Why not?’ she asked. ‘We were good together, before you made us come here. We could be good together again, without living in each other’s pockets. Just think – all the fun of a relationship, with none of the hassle.’
It wasn’t a terrible idea, Fraser thought. Plenty of people made long distance relationships work. The trouble was, the Fraser he was now wasn’t the one Naomi wanted. She wanted the actor, the glamour that came with the party invitations and award ceremonies he’d always attended without a hope of being recognised for his work. She wanted who he had been five years ago. ‘But what if a relationship is exactly what I want?’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Then come back to London. Move in with me and we’ll make it work. Your agent has been trying to get hold of you – he says he’s got the role of a lifetime to offer you. There’s a future for you in acting, Fraser. All you have to do is take it.’
The mention of Sam caused a squirm of guilt; Fraser had ignored another email from him only last week. For a moment he wavered – his agent had frequently been known to exaggerate the importance of the roles he’d sent Fraser’s way in the past, but he couldn’t recall Sam ever describing one as ‘the role of a lifetime’, and he couldn’t help wondering what it might be. But his curiosity didn’t survive long, blown away by the bigger grenade Naomi had just lobbed his way.
He gazed at her for a long moment, taking in the perfect arch of her cheekbones, the flawless skin, the wide blue eyes that were virtually begging him to see sense. If his friends could see him now, they’d be roaring at him to do the obvious thing and take her up on her offer, both for the night and for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t. To say yes now would be to turn his back on everything he’d built in Edinburgh – on Dead Famous, the other tour guides and on Maura, who was working so hard to help him make a go of things. As if summoned by the thought, a vision of her loomed into his mind, smiling as she showed him how to shape the clay, the tips of her dark hair specked white as she brushed back a curl. He let out a slow breath. ‘It’s not what I want, Naomi. I’m sorry.’
