Wildflower Hill by Kimberley Freeman Read Free Book Online Page B

urges and passions balanced againstimmaculate manners. I’d never been much good at men until Josh. I’d had boyfriends, of course, but I had a record of picking the ones with big dreams and no way of making them come true: would-be artists and aspiring rock journalists. Josh was ambitious and razor-sharp, with a job in a stockbroking firm and a family of terribly old money. The love that had bloomed under my ribs for him was fierce.
    But there was something different about his smile tonight—some wariness, something held back—and I found myself on my guard.
    “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, sitting down and gesturing to the waiter.
    “It’s fine. Now I know how it feels,” I joked.
    He didn’t laugh, didn’t even seem to have heard me. He beckoned the waiter over; we ordered wine but said we’d take a few more minutes to decide on meals. He laced his fingers together and looked at them for a moment.
    “Good day?” I asked.
    He looked up. “My mother called.”
    “Oh?” His family had moved to Spain a year ago; I’d never met them. “Everything okay?”
    “Yes. Yes.” He glanced around again. He was nervous about something, that was for sure. “They’re all coming up to Paris for a week. End of October. My mum, my dad, my sister. They want us to meet them there.”
    “Great, I . . .” My mind was spinning through my diary. Damn, where was Adelaide, my PA, when I needed her? What was I doing in October? Would
Giselle
be over? But here was Josh, asking me to meet his family. A sign—a clear sign—thathe was thinking of more permanent arrangements. A week in Paris with him would be lovely. We’d never been away together. I’d always been too busy. Then it occurred to me: casting for the Christmas season. I couldn’t miss it.
    “Would we have to go for the whole week?”
    Irritation crossed his brow. “Most people have holidays, Emma. It isn’t unthinkable.”
    “It’s complicated. I’m on contract. I’ll need to make sure I have another contract lined up for when it’s finished. In this business—”
    “You can’t have a break. Yes, I know, you’ve told me this before. But you
need
a break, and I
need
to introduce you to my family.”
    “Need to? Why?”
    “Because they’re my family.”
    “You haven’t met mine.”
    “They’re in Australia. And I can guarantee that if they were just across the Channel for only a week, I’d make the effort to come and meet them.”
    “Look, Josh, don’t be upset. I’ll check with Adelaide; she has my diary. If you can give me the dates, I—”
    To my surprise, Josh stood up, fists clenched by his sides. People at the neighboring tables glanced up sharply; he realized he was creating a scene and sat down again. Leaned forward and, obviously keeping his anger in check, said, “This cannot go on.”
    By now I was growing annoyed. He was overreacting. “I think it’s reasonable that I should be able to look at my diary before committing to anything.”
    “Before committing to
me
?”
    I shook my head. “What are you asking me?” I felt as though we were playing a game and I didn’t know the rules. It was so unlike Josh to be unreasonable that I suspected darker motivations. It was almost as if he wanted to find fault with me. “Where has all this come from?”
    “Do you know what I want from life, Emma?” he demanded.
    “Of course. You want . . . to do well at work and . . .” I trailed off. Did I
really
not know what he wanted from life?
    “Marriage?” he said. “A family?”
    “You’ve never spoken of it.”
    He exhaled sadly. “I have. You just haven’t listened.” He looked me squarely in the eyes and said, “Do you want those things, too?”
    “Maybe. One day.”
    “You’re nearly thirty-two.”
    “Plenty of time.” What was that constricted feeling in my chest? “Lots of dancing to do first.”
    Josh ran his fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, then said, “I’m sorry. This relationship isn’t