Page 56 of The Couple Behind the Headlines

Realising she was in love with Jack left her nowhere and meant precisely nothing for her plans to go to the States because whatever brainstorm she might have had, whatever heady conclusion she might have come to, the fact remained she’d fallen in love with a man who didn’t know the meaning of the expression. Whose heart had remained intact for years and in all likelihood would for years to come. A man who’d promised her nothing, who’d offered her nothing but an extended fling on his terms.

An icy kind of numbness spread through her body as she pulled on her clothes and ran a brush through her hair. The whole thing was completely hopeless, wasn’t it? Even if Jack should turn up and tell her that his offer was still on the table—which was not likely—it wouldn’t make a scrap of difference. He’d never be able to offer her anything more than a fling, and a fling, however extended and whatever the terms, would never be enough for her. Therefore she had to get over him, because what alternative was there?

Steeling herself against the pain, Imogen shoved her things in her bag and slung it over her shoulder and left.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

OF COURSE it would be a damn sight easier to make a start on getting over Jack if he weren’t parked outside her house, leaning against the bonnet of his car with his arms crossed, looking dark and haggard and utterly gorgeous.

Imogen stood frozen to the spot a few feet from her front door, her pulse leaping all over the place as she stared at him. Wow, she thought dazedly, if she’d needed any confirmation that she was in love with him she had it. Her heart was almost bursting with it, and she was suddenly feeling hotter and more breathless than she had during her workout. Every inch of her itched to race up to him and hurl herself into his arms, which only went to prove how very vulnerable she was right now. With her recent self-discovery—and all its implications—so fresh in her mind, she felt raw and exposed and deeply unsettled.

Why was he here? What did he want? And why was she just standing there like a lemon?

This was a situation she’d imagined a dozen times but now it was actually happening she found she had no idea how to handle it. Swallowing back the ball of panic that lodged in her throat, Imogen tried to figure out the best approach. In the absence of anything else she settled for doing nothing and willed herself to calm down. Let him make the first move, she thought firmly. She might be crazy about him but he was the one in the wrong.

After what felt like aeons, Jack pushed himself off his car and slowly walked towards her. With every step he took everything around her—the row of mews houses, the cobbled street, the faint rumble of traffic—became increasingly blurry until he stopped in front of her and everything but him disappeared completely.

‘Hi,’ he said, and her stomach flipped at the lopsided smile he gave her.

‘Hi.’ Imogen shifted her weight from one foot to the other and resisted the urge to give herself a good kick as she did so, because, lopsided smile or no lopsided smile, her stomach had no business flipping. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I wanted to talk.’

‘Haven’t you said enough?’

At her cool, detached tone, Jack flinched and she made herself ignore it because as far as she was concerned, cool and detached was an excellent way to handle this.

‘Not nearly,’ he said. ‘May I come in?’

And have him invading her space and scrambling her senses once again? ‘I don’t think so.’

He rubbed a hand along his jaw and nodded briefly. ‘OK, well, I guess here is as good a place as any.’

‘For what?’

‘The apology I owe you.’

Imogen shrugged as if she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. ‘An apology? What for?’

Jack frowned. ‘What I said about your father pulling strings to get you into university … It was unforgivable.’

And despite her best efforts she couldn’t help her pathetically weak heart softening a little. ‘Oh, that,’ she said and then jutted her chin up in an effort to counterbalance the melting that was going on in her chest. ‘He didn’t, you know. I had to write three essays, take a couple of exams and get endless references. It wasn’t easy.’

‘I know.’

‘Why would you think he had?’

Jack sighed. ‘I didn’t. Not really.’

‘Then why say it?’

‘I asked you to stay. You said no. I didn’t like it.’

She stared at him in surprise. Had her refusal hurt? Had it really mattered that much? She reran their last conversation, this time from his point of view, and felt an instant stab of shame. She’d been so busy concentrating on how she’d been feeling that she hadn’t considered his feelings at all, had she? In all honesty she hadn’t thought he had any. But of course he did. Who didn’t? So if her rejection of his request that she stay had hurt, then that certainly made sense of his reaction. And if that was the case, then what other feelings might he have?

Imogen’s heart began to pound as her fragile steeliness crumpled and a kernel of hope cracked open inside her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘Don’t be.’

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