Cherish Collection January 2014 (Books 1-12). Rebecca Winters

      ‘You see those two over there?’ he asked, nodding in the direction of a table where a young couple were holding hands and gazing rapturously into each other’s eyes.

      ‘Yes. But we’re not going to do that, are we?’ she asked, aghast.

      ‘No way. Hell will freeze over before I ask you to give me that adoring look. They’re an example of what we mustn’t do. If we act like a couple in love it’ll cause a scandal. People will think you were betraying Dan and that’s why he headed for the hills.’

      ‘Right. So what do we do?’

      ‘We laugh. Let everyone see how light-hearted you are.’

      ‘You’ve got this all worked out to the last detail, haven’t you?’

      ‘Is that a polite way of saying that I’m taking charge too precisely?’

      ‘No, but you do seem to have a gift for organising. Perhaps nature meant you to be a film director.’

      Jackson grinned. ‘You’re not the first person to say that, but the guy who said it first was really mad at me. He was the director of a TV show and I annoyed him by arguing all the time. “Everything’s got to be done the way you say, hasn’t it?” he yelled.’

      ‘And what did you reply? I’m glad you’ve realised that?’

      ‘You understand me far too well.’

      Then the humour died from his face and he took a long breath.

      ‘I went to see Dan today. There were a few sharp words and now I don’t work for him any more.’

      ‘Oh, no! Your career—I never meant to harm you.’

      ‘You haven’t. I was already thinking of leaving. Someone else has been in touch.’

      He named a firm, high ranking in the production business.

      ‘They’ve been dangling offers in front of me for a while. I didn’t accept because I was OK where I was, but that’s over now, so I called the man who runs this other place. He wants to do a series about ancient Egypt—myths, traditions, rituals, pyramids, that sort of thing. Once we’ve settled my contract I’ll go out there to explore. It’s a place that’s always fascinated me.’

      ‘Yes, it’s got a magical reputation hasn’t it? Tell me more.’

      As Jackson talked she did as he’d suggested—smiling, nodding, seeming fascinated. Nobody must guess that inside she felt wretched.

      She managed the pretence until Jackson finished by saying, ‘So now we can both consign Dan to the past.’

      She had a feeling of being punched in the stomach.

      ‘Yes, we can, can’t we?’ she said bleakly.

      ‘But I guess it won’t happen all in a moment.’ He looked intensely at her face. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned him.’

      ‘No, I’m strong. I can cope.’

      ‘I don’t think you’re as strong as you like to believe you are.’

      ‘You’re wrong,’ she said firmly.

      ‘I hope so. You’ll get over him, Freya. You must.’

      ‘Yes, I must,’ she whispered, dismayed at hearing her voice crack on the last word. At all costs she must not weep.

      Jackson took a gentle hold of her hand.

      ‘You can’t believe it now, but truly it will happen. The best of your life is still in front of you.’

      ‘Yes—of course—it’s just—I can’t—’ The tears were there again, refusing to be defeated.

      ‘Come on,’ Jackson said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

      He summoned the waiter, paid the bill and led her outside. She sat in silence on the journey. The courage and defiance that had carried her through the evening had vanished without warning, and she felt crushed.

      When they reached the hotel he said, ‘Shall I call your mother and tell her you’re here?’

      ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t want to see anyone.’

      ‘All right.’ He kept his arm around her shoulders as they went up to her room, and went inside with her.

      ‘Goodnight,’ she said.

      ‘Not yet. I don’t like leaving you alone. You’ve been brave, and coped wonderfully, but nobody can be brave for ever.’

      ‘They can if they have to,’ she said huskily.

      ‘But you don’t have to. You’ve got a friend who’ll always be there for you.’

      ‘Don’t,’ she begged. ‘I can manage—truly I can. I just need to—to—’

      She tried to fight back the tears but it was hopeless. Grief devastated her.

      ‘You need to do this,’ Jackson said, taking her in his arms and drawing her close.

      At once she gave up the fight for control. The warmth and sweetness of his gesture overcame her resistance and she let her head rest on his shoulder. He was right. While he was here she didn’t need to be brave.

      He turned his head, resting his cheek against her hair.

      ‘Go on,’ he murmured. ‘Let it happen.’

      She had no choice but to let it happen. Strong, controlled Freya could do nothing but yield to the despair she’d once managed to hold at bay. She could feel Jackson patting her shoulders as they shook with sobs, and for several minutes they stood quietly, leaning against each other.

      She had the sensation of being in another world. It was warm, kindly, safe. She wanted to stay there for ever.

      ‘Freya—’

      His gentle voice made her look up to see his face just above hers, so close that she could feel his breath.

      ‘Freya—’ he murmured again.

      There was something in his voice that she’d never heard before: uncertainty, perhaps even alarm.

      ‘Freya—’

      ‘Yes—’

      She felt the touch of his lips against hers and drew in a soft breath. Next moment she was pressing against him, not even knowing what she did. Something deep inside her drove her on, telling her this was where she belonged. Without realising what she was doing she slipped her arms about him. She would have tightened them, but he tensed and raised his mouth from hers.

      Suddenly tremors went through her body. The world had changed. She didn’t know where she was. She knew only that this wasn’t where she should be.

      ‘Freya—’

      ‘Let me go.’

      The words were needless. He was already stepping back, putting distance between them.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ he said harshly. ‘I didn’t mean—’

      ‘Neither did I,’ she said, in a voice whose harshness matched his own. ‘Please go now.’

      ‘Freya, my dear—’

      ‘I’m not your dear. I’m not your anything. Just because Dan dumped me, did you think I was there for the taking?’

      ‘Of course not. I wasn’t trying to make love to you. I promise that’s one thing I’ll never do. You can count on that. It was meant as comfort.’

      ‘That’s one kind of comfort I don’t need.’

      He seemed about to say something, but then his shoulders sagged as though he realised it was useless and he turned to the door.

      ‘I’m