A Fragile Heart (BBW Billionaire Light Romance) (5 page)

Elena was amazed, it was nothing she’d have chosen herself, but, she admitted, it was certainly an improvement on her usual slap-dash dark style.

They collapsed into chairs at the coffee bar a little while later, bags on the floor around their aching feet, glad to have a rest.
 

“Hey, thanks,” Elena said. “I wouldn't have bothered to struggle through the crowds on my own. I’d have given up, or just grabbed anything. I suppose I don't usually take enough time choosing things and sometimes I don't even try them on.”

“That's all right,” Yvonne smiled back. “I enjoyed spending someone else's money for a change, and you really do look good in that jumper.”

There was a pause.

“So, If you don't mind me asking, who’s all this preparation in aid of?”

Elena hesitated, then decided it was only fair that her friend should be allowed to know at least some of the story. After all, she’d been willing to spend her Saturday morning helping to choose the clothes, so she should at least know what they were for.

“Oh, just someone I met a couple of weeks ago,” Elena began. “He’s asked me to go sight-seeing tomorrow, as neither of us have ever visited the Tower of London. I don't think it’ll go any further. He's quite well off and I feel a bit out of my depth. I promise I'll tell you all about it afterwards.”

That was as much as Elena felt able to disclose, but Yvonne nodded as she pulled her mobile from her bag.

“Looks as though the family are getting hungry. Must dash,” she smiled. “But good luck!” she added.

When Elena got back to the flat she found Josh had gone out, so she went into the bedroom and tried on the top and scarf with her black trousers. She’d been afraid that the cashmere would be too clingy, but it draped softly over her breasts, and she had to admit she felt kind of pleased with the effect. She remembered what Guy had said about his ex-wife Olivia being obsessed with dieting and being thin, and she tried to convince herself that perhaps, in contrast, he might even appreciate her curves and her fuller shape.
 

She took out the card with the mobile number that Guy had given her. It was time to make a decision. Was she going to opt out or, for once, take a gamble?
 

She knew that since she had moved to London her personal life had been put on hold as she was still so sensitive about being let down. But perhaps it was time to change that, to take a chance on life, even if it might mean risking getting hurt ...
 

She typed in the time and place, hesitated, then, remembering just how much she’d spent during the shopping session, pressed send.
   

Chapter Eight

It was easier than expected. On the way Elena had been plagued by doubts, her throat dry and her stomach host to hundreds of butterflies, but Guy was waiting for her, dressed this time in more casual clothes — a white linen shirt, a pair of cream chinos and a beautifully-tailored long grey overcoat — and straight away he began by telling her that he’d got there early and bought tickets to save them waiting in the queue. The tourists were out in earnest, all nationalities flocking to this forbidding fortress overlooking the Thames.
 

Guy handed her a ticket and brochure and suggested they take the guided tour. This suited Elena, as it took some of the worry away as to what they might talk about. She was still slightly nervous at being with him, out for the whole day, without the calming effect of a glass of wine and a good meal as had happened last time.

There was such a lot to see and take in and time passed quickly as they visited the White Tower, the Crown Jewels and Tower Green, the site of many grisly executions. Their guide was friendly and encouraged questions. At times, when the group pressed forward, Elena and Guy were pushed together. He put his hand on her shoulder to steady her, and she shivered with an immediate physical attraction, her whole body reeling from just this slightest touch.

She wondered if he could possibly feel her reaction, and so she tried to calm herself and
 
concentrate. She wasn’t confident enough in herself to imagine he might actually be attracted to
her
,
too; she wasn't even completely sure how this visit had come about. It had all happened so quickly that she felt she’d strayed way out of her usual comfort zone.

“Do you think they’re real?” she asked as they came out of the Crown Jewels exhibition.

“What? You think the Queen is so hard up she’s had to pawn them?” Guy smiled at her, his face so handsome it took her breath away for a moment.

“No, it just seems so incredible that something as rare and valuable as the Cullinan diamond should be kept here on display, instead of deep in a vault somewhere,” she continued, aware all the time she was speaking that he had those intense grey eyes fixed on her, drinking her in. “I can't help thinking that these are duplicates, and that the real crown jewels are hidden away, and only come out for a coronation.”
 

“I'll bet you were the sort of girl who wrote everything up straight after a school trip, ready to hand in an essay, too,” Guy observed with a cheeky smile.
 

“Why not, if it's enjoyable?”

They’d come to a stop near Tower Green, and Guy turned towards her with a surprisingly intense, searching look.

“What?”

“It's just that I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. I have to admit, it was a spur of the moment suggestion, doing this tourist trail,” he explained.

A spur of the moment thing?
 

Elena swallowed; there seemed to be a lump of disappointment in her throat. Just as she’d feared, it was obviously going to be a one-off occasion. And just when she’d finally begun to feel more at ease in Guy's company, too.
 

Not for the first time Elena wished that she was slimmer, better looking, more attractive to the opposite sex. She knew, deep down, that her confidence had been badly shaken when she was dumped by Dave, and it seemed to be taking quite a while to return.
 

They left the Tower and walked down towards the river. The afternoon was closing in and the water was choppy, stirred by a chilly breeze.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Guy said. “I've booked a table at The Grosvenor.”

“The Grosvenor?” Elena was overcome with dismay. “I can't possibly go there,” she exclaimed.

“Why not? The food's good, I thought you might enjoy the experience, and we don’t have to walk, we can get a taxi.”

Elena was embarrassed and, at the same time, annoyed that he would book a table at such an exclusive and expensive restaurant without any notice or discussion first. There she was, dressed in casual clothes, which were – apart from the jumper and scarf – all a few years old, and fake gold ear-rings. No, she would feel totally shabby and out of place. Once again, she felt at a loss. Presumably this was just the way the rich did things.

“I'm not exactly dressed for it,” she pointed out, when she realised Guy had noticed her hesitation.

“So go home and change, we've got plenty of time,” Guy stated, as though the matter was decided.

Oh dear.
 

The day seemed to be going rapidly downhill. It was possibly too late to save it, but Elena felt she just had to express herself. He obviously didn't have a clue how the other, poorer half lived. Feeling rather defensive, she stepped away from him, folding her arms across her chest, trying not to be distracted by how handsome he was, casting her gaze out towards the city instead.

“You just don't understand, do you?” she began. “These are the best things in my wardrobe at the moment. I don't have anything else suitable to change into. We don't all have unlimited money to flash around, you know. There’s a real world out there.”

It had all come out before she could stop herself. Before she knew what was happening, Guy had stepped forward, taken her roughly by the arm and turned her towards the river.

“Look, over there across the river,” he said, a new intensity smouldering in his low, sonorous voice. "
That's
where I came from. Not some landed estate, but the old East End. My family were dockers in the past, just down stream, where the wharves used to be.”

He paused, and Elena saw his eyes had grown mournful now, reflecting the colour of the turbulent water below them. She made to answer him, regretting her stupid impulsive comments, but before she could speak he went on.

“You raised the subject of wealth? Well, we were fairly near the bottom of the pile. In my grandfather's time the men always worked on the docks, they worked hard and spent their money every week, just to pay the rent, put food on the table, and anything left went to the local pub.”

Guy had a far off look in his eye now, as though he was looking back into another, distant world.

“By the time the docks closed and all those fancy steel offices were going up, my mother had left us, taking my little sister with her. My father was in and out of work, and hadn't time for me. I was just a burden to him. Any money he had he would rather spend betting on the dogs or getting drunk.”

There was an intense pause, and Elena realised that these memories were painful for Guy, but, at the same time, she wanted him to continue, as it was a chance to learn more about him. There seemed to be so many layers to be peeled back before you revealed the true Guy Silver. She’d certainly got things wrong when she assumed he was from a wealthy background, and now she realised these must be painful memories about his unhappy childhood.
 

“Please, go on,” she said softly, hoping to encourage him, wishing she could put her arms around him.

“I started missing school, running wild in the streets, ready to join any gang. Just when things were getting out of control, my mother's brother, Uncle Jack, decided I should go and live with him. I was fourteen at the time, and glad to get away from home.
 
That's when I started to learn how to make money.”

Guy turned away from the river and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. Elena trembled slightly as he asked her whether she wanted to hear more, his eyes seeking hers, his full sensuous lips parted, just a faint trace of stubble on his chiseled jaw. She nodded, desperate to hear the rest of his story.

“Uncle Jack had his fingers in every scheme going, legal or not,” he continued. “He didn't mind if I stayed off school and helped him with his market stall, or go with him when he was doing some dodgy deals. He taught me what makes money, when to take a risk or not, who to trust and who to avoid. To cut a long story short, he was my university of life, as they say, and I graduated with a lump sum to invest, instead of a degree.”

“He gave you a lump sum?” Elena asked, smiling.

Guy seemed to have become calm now, as though telling someone about his young days had been a relief, almost as though a burden had been lifted. It occurred to Elena that, perhaps, not many people knew where Guy Silver actually came from, and she wondered briefly if that was even his real name.

“Yes. He had been working on three little terraced houses in Bermondsey. I helped him with the painting and decorating and anything else that needed doing. I didn't realise he actually owned them. When prices started to go up, he sold and retired to a cottage near the sea in Kent. I was eighteen by then. He gave me a sum which he said I could use how I liked, and in a year I should be financially stable, as long as I remembered all he had taught me. And if not, there was always a room for me in Kent.”

“And that's how you began, when you were eighteen?”

“Yes.” Guy was watching her closely. “To be honest, there was a lot of risk taking and wheeling and dealing, not all of it legal and probably best forgotten. I think that's enough about me for now. If you’re really interested, I'll tell you the rest another time.”

Another time?
 

Elena tried to still a wave of excitement that flashed up inside her, sending her pulse racing; she’d begun to think that she had blown it and this day would be a one-off!
 

“So, not The Grosvenor then, but don't tell me you aren't hungry.”

“Yes, I am really hungry,” she replied.

“McDonald's or Burger King suit you?” Guy suggested.

Elena shook her head.

“Your place … or mine?” he continued.

It was too soon. Elena knew she wouldn't feel comfortable with either – her flat was cramped and untidy and probably full of Josh and his friends from the band. And his house was way too elegant, and she’d be worried that he might suggest she stay the night. She wasn't ready or confident enough for
that
, just yet, but she did want this time together to continue.

“Pizza Hut,” she stated with a smile.

Chapter Nine

“Well? How did it go then?”

As she had expected, Josh must have invited some of the band round for a practice whilst she was out. Looking at the debris on the floor and the used mugs in the kitchen, she would normally have had a go at Josh to clear up, but the feel-good factor of the day was still with her and she managed to ignore the mess. The advantage about living over a launderette was that they never had any complaints about noise: if the washing machines were going it drowned out any noise from the flat above, and when the shop was closed there was no-one to hear anyway. Josh and his friends could make as much noise with their music as they liked.

“Josh!” Elena said. “You sound just like Mum. You'll be asking me if he made any advances next.”

“Woah! Too much information!” Josh replied. “I just wondered if you had a good time."

Elena considered it. Yes, she had enjoyed herself, and whatever else might happen, it was a day she would always remember.
 

She went back through their day, describing The Tower, the hoards of sight seeing tourists and filled Josh in generally, with no mention of Guy's revelations about his past, finishing off with an account of her pizza.
 

“
Pizza Hut
?” Josh interrupted incredulously. “What a cheapskate! I thought he was rich.”