Page 58 of The Couple Behind the Headlines

‘I’m not Max,’ he said, sounding as though he were gritting his teeth.

‘Maybe not, but give me one good reason I could trust you.’

Even though she’d only brought up the whole trust thing as a way to hide what she really had an issue with, it now seemed of paramount importance. All she needed was one tiny glimmer of proof that he was serious about this. That he more than cared about her. That she was good for more than an extended fling and that he could be in this for the long haul.

But he blinked. Hesitated.

And in that brief nanosecond of uncertainty, as she saw the shadow that flitted across his face, everything inside her shattered.

‘You can’t, can you?’ she said, her voice breaking beneath the pain and disappointment flooding through her.

‘Do you see me demanding proof that I can trust you?’ he said flatly, and then his voice turned colder, harder, infinitely more cynical. ‘You know, you really need to get over the whole Max thing. It’s pathetic.’

‘And you need to get over your phobia of commitment,’ she fired back, all the emotions churning around inside her surging up to voice what was really at the heart of this. ‘History doesn’t have to repeat itself.’

‘Exactly.’

As they stood there bristling at each other it struck her that they were at a stalemate. Jack had taken as many steps forward as he was able to, and she certainly wasn’t going to take any when it would achieve nothing but her own humiliation.

‘Well, you can rest assured that for me it won’t,’ she said, and then added with a bitter laugh, ‘Who knows? When I get to the States, I might find a nice American who can give me what I want. Who I can trust.’

Jack’s expression was stony, his eyes unreadable, his body tense. ‘Then they’re welcome to you.’

And with the devastating knowledge that this was it and there really was nothing left for her here now, the fight and the hope drained out of her. ‘I think you’d better go,’ she said dully.

He stepped back, so icy and distant that she wondered if she’d ever known him. ‘Don’t worry. I’m going. I must have been mad to come here in the first place.’

‘Then I doubt you’ll be wanting an invitation to my leaving party.’

‘I can’t think of anything I’d want less,’ he said, and with that he threw her one last unfathomable glance, swivelled on his heel and strode back to his car.

Around the corner, and out of sight and earshot, Jack killed the engine and punched the steering wheel. Hard.

Damn it all. What had just happened there? And what had happened to his decision to put things right? Put things right? Hah. Things had imploded so spectacularly they couldn’t have gone any more wrong.

With hindsight he should never have acted on the reckless desire to sort things out with Imogen once and for all and head straight here after his drink with Luke. He should have gone home and given himself the evening to perfect his plan.

Although, while it might have been a bit hastily cobbled together, in all honesty he didn’t think the proposal he’d put forward could be much more perfect. Imogen had made it clear that despite not wanting anything permanent she’d wanted more than just sex, so his suggestion should have been ideal.

So why had she turned it down? Why did he get the feeling that he’d somehow disappointed her? And how had things descended into that ridiculous argument?

Jack raked his hands through his hair and scowled out into the darkness as he tried to figure it out.

Had her objection really only been down to trust? Because if it had then why hadn’t he simply told her he loved her? She’d asked for a reason to trust him, and surely that was an excellent one. Why had he hesitated? Had it simply been the fact that he’d been stung she’d even had to ask, or was it that he’d realised that perhaps she had a point because how could she trust him when, having never been in this position before, he had no idea if he could trust himself?

But that was absurd. Of course he could trust himself. He loved her. Insanely. So insanely that the idea of going off with another woman made him shudder with revulsion. Although not as much as the idea that she might meet someone else did. That concept made him feel as if he’d swallowed a bucket of battery acid.

A nice American who could give her what she wanted? Hah.

And then Jack’s heart stopped and he froze in the darkness.

He played back what Imogen had said about her nice American word for word and his head went fuzzy. What she’d said would imply that he could never give her what she wanted. Which was nuts. If he only knew what it was she wanted, he’d willingly give it to her.

But perhaps he did.

He went even stiller as the look he’d seen in her eyes just before he’d told her about his workable solution, the one he hadn’t been able to identify, hammered at his brain. What had it been? Resignation? Frustration? Anger? Or had it been hope?

He snapped up straight as the penny finally dropped. Hell. It had been hope. But for what? More? Had Imogen in fact wanted more from him than he’d assumed?

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