Lucy Gordon - The Final Falcon Says I Do

‘Another time. Right now I have something else to ask of you.’ She slipped a hand into the jeans pocket and brought out the luscious engagement ring that she had worn until a few hours ago. ‘Will you give that back to Dan, please?’

‘Oh, heavens, now I remember. I’ve still got the other ring.’

He reached into his jacket pocket and took out the wedding ring, laying the two of them side by side on the table.

‘I’ll give these to him as soon as I see him.’

She didn’t reply. She was gazing at the rings as though transfixed. After a moment she brushed a hand over her eyes, but not soon enough to hide the tears.

‘I’m sorry, I just—’

‘You’ve endured enough,’ he said sympathetically. ‘Why don’t you go and lie down? I won’t disturb you. The bedroom’s yours. I’ll sleep out here on the sofa.’

‘Why are you so kind to me?’ she choked.

Because I feel guilty for what I accidentally did to you.

The words thrummed through his head, almost forcing their way out. But he controlled them and escorted her into the bedroom.

‘You’ll find some clean pyjamas in that drawer,’ he said, and hurried out before his conscience overwhelmed him.

Left alone, she sat down on the bed, staring into space, unable to find the strength for anything else. In Jackson’s company, feeling his kindly care, she’d managed to cope. But now she felt as though she was drifting through infinity, in a world in which nothing was real.

She had tried to describe how Dan had made her feel, but there were no words for the sensation of being newly alive that he had given her. For the first time in her life she’d felt valuable to someone. Her relationship with her mother was cordial, but she knew she’d never come first. Janine and her late father had adored each other with an intensity that had made Freya feel like an outsider.

She’d made a life for herself, training as a nurse and passing her exams with honours. She’d had the pleasure of knowing that her parents were proud of her—especially her father, a learned man, who had been delighted that his brains had passed to his daughter. That had to be her consolation for the feeling of having been outside the enchanted circle.

Her loneliness had been intensified when her father died. Mother and daughter had grieved, but not together. Janine had suffered mostly alone, in a place Freya had not been able to touch.

But she was a successful nurse, and life had seemed settled on a conventional path until, two years after her father’s death, her mother had become engaged to the notorious Amos Falcon and she had begun to meet his five sons.

Jackson had been the first, on that evening in the restaurant that he’d mentioned earlier. Their escape to the nearby Chinese restaurant had been merry, but there had been another feeling beneath her laughter. He was handsome, charming, and she wouldn’t have minded if he’d asked her out on a date.

He hadn’t. She had sighed, shrugged, and returned to the young man she’d been dating, but who had suddenly seemed less interesting. They’d drifted apart.

At last there had been the wedding of Janine and Amos in London, and a gathering of the whole family in a hotel the night before. Jackson had greeted her with a cry of, ‘There’s my little sister!’ and enfolded her in a huge hug.

They’d moved away from the others to chat about how their lives were going. That had been before his television career, when he’d still been a newspaper journalist, with a thousand fascinating tales to tell. Freya had listened, promising herself that this time she would attract his interest. She’d already discovered how much he liked to laugh.

‘Go on—tell me more,’ she’d teased. ‘I’m hanging on every word.’

‘Hey, I really like talking to you.’ He had chuckled. ‘You know how to flatter a guy’s vanity. Why don’t we—?’ He’d stopped, riveted by something he’d seen over her shoulder. ‘Hey, look who’s— Karen!’

Then he’d been gone, racing across the room to the girl who’d just appeared, seizing her in his arms, kissing her again and again.

‘So she turned up after all,’ a voice had said in Freya’s ear. ‘We all wondered if she would.’

It had been Darius, regarding his brother with good-humoured cynicism.

‘Who is she?’ Freya had asked casually.

‘His latest light o’ love.’

‘Latest?’

‘They come and they go. Jackson likes variety in his life, which is partly why they broke up. Now they’ve got back together we’ll have to wait and see what happens.’

‘No prizes for guessing what’s about to happen now,’ Freya had observed, watching the pair slip out of the room.

‘He wouldn’t be Jackson if he passed up the chance.’

It was a lucky escape, she’d told herself. She might have become seriously attracted to Jackson but fate had saved her.

He’d brought Karen to the wedding as his guest. She was beautiful, Freya had thought enviously. Others had thought so too, because at the reception another man hadn’t been able to take his eyes from her. He’d hovered, annoying Karen, until Jackson had taken a firm grip on him and said something that had made him back off. Freya hadn’t heard the words but she’d seen Jackson’s face, and there had been a look of menace that had stunned her. All the charm had gone from him.

It had been over in a moment. The man had fled and Jackson had reverted to his usual pleasant self. But Freya had never forgotten what she had glimpsed. She knew that if anyone had looked at her like that she would have been terrified.

She’d expected to hear that Jackson was engaged to Karen, but nothing had happened. And why should she care? she wondered. She’d been briefly attracted to him, but rescue had come in time and it was no big deal. They’d settled for a friendship in which they teased, challenged and infuriated each other. What might have been was safely in the past.

There was still a sense of irony that of all men it should be Jackson who had come to her rescue now, taking her into his home, offering her his shoulder to cry on. But irony had always been part of their relationship.

Early in her mother’s marriage she’d joined Amos and Janine at their home in Monte Carlo. A heart attack had left him vulnerable, and Janine had asked her to pay a long visit.

‘He won’t hear of a nurse being there night and day,’ she’d said. ‘But he’ll have to let my daughter visit us, won’t he?’

She’d made the visit reluctantly. Nothing about Amos appealed to her, especially the stories of his several wives and affairs. But Amos had taken a liking to his stepdaughter and begun plotting to marry her to one of his sons. Freya had been far from flattered.

‘Was he mad when he thought of that?’ she’d demanded of her mother. ‘There isn’t one of them I’d ever dream of—ye gods and little fishes!’

As soon as Amos’s health had improved she’d left Monte Carlo, returning to England and her nursing career.

Amos had failed to marry her to Darius, Marcel, Travis or Leonid. That left only Jackson. Their friendship was strong enough for him to ‘reject’ her theatrically, as he’d just done. Since she felt the same there was no problem.

She’d be as mad to marry him as he’d be to marry her. Though there was no denying he was a nice enough guy—at least he was if you overlooked a few things—but he was a bit too set on having his own way. He must get that from Amos, although he’d never admit it. But he had been good to her today.

She pulled on the pyjamas he’d offered her and lay down on the bed, certain that she would be unable to sleep, but the strain of the day caught up with her suddenly and she could do nothing but close her eyes.