A Fling To Steal Her Heart

‘Papa and Maman have returned to live in the family home in Avignon. Dad’s left the bank. It was getting too stressful so now he’s working part time with a importing company and aiming to enjoy time out with the family.’

‘That’s huge.’ Monsieur Dubois had worked long and hard most of his life. ‘It’s great news, isn’t it?’ Then her heart stuttered. Would Raphael move home now? Just when she’d returned to London? When she wanted to spend time with him?

Rafe was leaning forward, his concentration fixed on the road and cars ahead. His tight grip on the steering wheel was another giveaway he was rattled. ‘Oui.’

‘But?’ she dared to ask.

His fingers loosened their grip, tightened again. ‘I’m still not ready,’ he said in a ‘don’t go there’ voice she knew not to ignore.

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, let the silence take over. Better than saying anything to upset her friend. Apart from his parents almost suffocating him in love she had no idea what was behind his refusal to return home. He seemed more content than in those dark days after he and Cassie broke up, but there were times Isabella wondered how happy he really was with his lot.

The silence became uncomfortable. ‘We had such plans growing up, didn’t we? Nothing turned out anything like them.’ There’d never been any doubt Raphael was going into medicine. He had intended setting up a private practice in his home city, while she’d thought she’d go into marketing, then car sales so she could drive to-die-for vehicles. Running a bar came into the plans somewhere around that time. But nothing had felt right, like something was missing as it was in her family. Then hearing Raphael talking about working with patients and the pain and fear and love that surrounded people when they were sick, she understood she wanted to work with people too. Not by handing them a full glass over a counter, but soothing their fears when they were injured, caring that they got through whatever was frightening them. So she applied to start training as a nurse, and had been the most at ease in her life for the next four years. Until she was qualified, and once again restlessness overtook her so finally, in desperation, she came to London and signed up for the midwifery course. Being there for those babies, and sharing—albeit on the periphery—the love and excitement every baby brought its parents, had made her happier than she’d ever believed possible. Having two options to her career was a bonus, and she had no intention of doing anything else career-wise. It was the one thing she was absolutely certain about.

‘I am so glad you’re here, Izzy.’ Rafe sank back against the seat, and flicked her a quick smile, his knuckles no longer white and tight. Then he stiffened again. ‘Not that I’ll have a lot of free time to spend with you.’

It sounded like a warning of some sort. He wasn’t available for friend time? Again, her heart stuttered. Which frightened her. Raphael was a friend. Couldn’t be anything else. Of course they were never going to be anything else. These oddball jitters just went to show how far out of sync she’d become with what she needed from life. ‘I’ll be busy too,’ she told him with a dollop of self-preservation for her pride. ‘Finding a flat to rent, catching up with the girls, starting my new job.’ A yawn caught her. Bed would be good right now. Damn but she needed some sleep, although past experience told her she was best to stay up till a reasonable hour, and eat a decent meal. Even then, there’d only be intermittent hours of unconsciousness. Glancing over to Rafe, for the first time in ages, pure happiness surged through her. It was as though she had come home, not left it. And she suspected she wasn’t only thinking about London and friends, but Raphael in particular. Whatever that meant, she was too tired to worry about it. She let the silence return. Until again she couldn’t stand it. ‘I can’t wait to see your house.’

He sucked in a breath. ‘You’re going to be disappointed. I’d be lying if I said it’s a work in progress. I haven’t done anything about the paintwork or getting the kitchen altered and the bathrooms modernised. I never seem able to find the enthusiasm or time.’

‘Maybe I can help.’

His eyebrows rose in shock. ‘I’m not talking a small job here.’

‘Have to start somewhere, and if I’m going to get my own place eventually I might as well practise on yours first.’

‘You think?’ He grinned. ‘Afraid I’m going to have to turn your offer—’ he flicked a finger in the air ‘—down.’

‘Coward.’

‘Pink walls and floral curtains are so not my thing.’

‘Mine either.’ Her tastes were more along the lines of pale colours—more white than anything, lots of natural light, big empty spaces. That came from the real estate programs she’d watched avidly back in Wellington when she’d begun collecting furniture for the future house she and Darren were going to buy. ‘Dark blue walls and carpets, a dash of white in the curtains, lime green furniture should do it.’

‘Excellent. We have a plan.’

Isabella smiled. It was great how he said ‘we.’ As if she had a place in his life. But then she always had. Did that mean she’d be looking for a home in his neighbourhood? Doubt she could afford a dog kennel in Richmond. The idea of moving too far from Raphael suddenly irked, when it shouldn’t. Friends moved around, came back together, moved on. At the moment they were in the coming back together phase. Who knew for how long?

‘Here we are.’ Raphael parked outside a brick row house. ‘Welcome home.’

It wasn’t her home, only a stop gap while she found somewhere for herself, but she’d take the warmth that went with his words and enjoy. Shoving the door wide, she clambered out on tired legs and looked around. Trees lined the street, a dog barked from behind a house next door and puddles glistened in the sun that was making its way out from behind the clouds. Home. Yes, it felt exactly like what she’d dreamed of having in Wellington. A house in a quiet neighbourhood. Throw in friends nearby, and Rafe had got it right when he chose this place. It was perfect.

Nothing’s perfect. There’re always faults.

The warning didn’t dampen the warmth pushing aside her exhaustion.

Following Raphael inside, she stopped and stared at the hallway walls. Eek. ‘Magenta? This is so dark it feels like it’s falling in on us.’ Definitely a fault.

‘Wait until you see the kitchen.’

That colour had to go. Sooner than later. It was hideous. She shivered and traipsed behind Raphael up the stairs with the smallest of her cases in hand. It soon became obvious nothing had been done to spruce up the house for a long time, probably well before he moved in. Every room she peered into was in need of a coat of paint, preferably a very pale, neutral shade to lighten them, and new curtains to match. At the top of the stairs on the third floor he dumped the heaviest of her cases. ‘This is your room for as long as you want it. It’s the best of the two spares, and anyway I use the smallest for an office,’ he told her before heading back down to get the next bag.

Isabella looked around the neat but bland room, and shrugged. No magenta in here, thank goodness, but the pale mauve reminded her of an old lady’s room. Still, it was somewhere to put her head down, and give her time to find somewhere to rent. So why the flicker of excitement? Sinking onto the edge of the bed she rubbed her arms through her jacket, and said aloud to prove she wasn’t dreaming it, ‘I’m back in London, in the other country I call home.’ Her mother came from the Lake District and she’d only visited her relatives once last time she lived here. The welcome mat had been in storage that day, something to do with her mother marrying a New Zealander instead of the lord of whatever they’d planned on having as a son-in-law, and Isabella being the offspring of someone less desirable, despite her father’s mega career in the Foreign Service, hadn’t changed their attitude. They should’ve got over it by now, but it seemed some things weren’t meant to be, and she’d quietly headed away, deflated but resolute she wasn’t going to beg for recognition.

‘I’m glad. For both of us.’

Hadn’t heard Raphael returning with another case, had she? Blinking, she looked up into the steady but shocked gaze coming her way. Why shocked? He hadn’t expected to feel glad she was staying with him? No. He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t want her here. Or would he these days? ‘I made the right call. Thanks for letting me know about the job.’ She couldn’t wait to start. It would be a bonus working alongside Raphael. Another was the girls were also all working at the same hospital.

‘Aucun problème. Now, there’s a bathroom on the floor below. It’s all yours as I’ve got an en suite bathroom attached to my bedroom. Help yourself to anything you want. The kitchen pantry’s full and the freezer’s holding some of your favourite fish.’

‘A shower’s what I need. And some clean clothes.’ She sniffed her jacket and grimaced. ‘Yuck. Long-haul travel has its own peculiar smell.’

He flinched, looked away. ‘Take as long as you need. We’re only going along the road for a drink and a bite to eat.’

Despite his reaction, that sounded so normal she laughed. This was what she’d come for. Normal. Whatever that was. At the moment everything felt right. Especially being with Raphael, knowing he’d never hurt her, no matter how far either of them pushed the boundaries of their friendship. Yes, packing up and coming here was a good move. Better than good; it was great, and filled with promise.

Believe it.

Yet she didn’t feel quite normal with him. Yet. Still to come?

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