The reality of seeing him again was very different from the scenario she’d imagined. She’d been shocked to see him here, but so far she’d resisted slapping him, throwing a drink in his face, or announcing to the rest of the conference attendees that he was the reason she couldn’t risk loving anyone again. Perhaps she’d matured or, more likely, hadn’t expected to feel anything other than pure hatred towards him.
She watched him now from the other side of the room as the assembled medical community enjoyed the tea break between lectures. It gave her time to study him unnoticed and decide what she wanted to do—if anything. If she chose to she could walk out of here and he’d be none the wiser, with nothing changing their current status quo.
Impossible when there was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted him to explain.
Physically, he hadn’t changed much from the man who’d once promised her their lives would be spent together except he looked older...more manly.
He was still trying to sweep that floppy dark hair back into a neat style befitting a professional man, though she remembered all too well how it had looked first thing in the morning tousled by sleep. And, as always, he was dressed impeccably, the navy suit tailored to his exact measurements. The beard was new, the dark shadow along his jawline making him look even more masculine, if that was possible. It suited him—as did the glasses he was sporting.
Damn it, he was still gorgeous, and apparently still able to make her heart flutter maniacally as though she’d just run a marathon.
‘They really should have an open bar,’ she muttered to the bewildered woman serving refreshments to the masses, turning away from the view of her ex-fiancé and wishing for a tot of whisky in her coffee.
Not that she drank often, but she’d make an exception to help her escape memories of her and Charles—good and bad. She’d have to make do with an extra spoonful of sugar in her tea to help with the shock.
‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’ That soft, Scottish burr capable of rendering her into a gibbering wreck tickled the back of her neck. He’d found her.
Harriet fumbled with her cup and saucer, spilling the contents over herself right before she turned around to face him. ‘Charles. What a surprise.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He grabbed a napkin from the buffet table and started dabbing at the stain darkening the front of her dress.
‘I can do that, thanks.’ She didn’t mean to snap but she couldn’t bear to have him touch her after all this time when she didn’t know what emotions it would unleash.
‘Sorry.’ He handed over possession of the napkin so she could tend to the ruined dress herself. ‘It was just nice to see a familiar face. How have you been, Harriet?’
There was no sign of remorse for the relationship and future he’d thrown away. He was talking to her as though they were old school friends, who had no real emotional connection and had simply happened to run into each other.
She set the wet napkin and coffee back on the table and took a moment to consider her response. If she kicked off and made a scene it would be clear she’d never got over him and that would most likely send Charles running. She didn’t know what she wanted from him, but it wasn’t that.
‘Oh, you know, keeping busy. You?’ She plastered on a smile, willing to play along with this game until one of them broke. Her, probably.
‘The same. I took up a placement in Glasgow to complete my medical training and set up a clinic at Heatherglen. It was initially to help army veterans, but we’ve extended to provide state-of-the-art medical facilities for physical and emotional rehabilitation to a wider range of patients.’
‘Sounds impressive.’ Inheriting his father’s fortune and the family estate had signalled the end of their engagement so it was difficult for Harriet to be as enthusiastic about his accomplishments as she should have been.
‘I wanted to do something worthwhile to honour my brother and father, but it takes a lot of upkeep. I don’t get to make as many trips to London as I’d like.’ His older brother, Nick, had served with the military in Afghanistan. Unfortunately, he’d been killed by a roadside bomb before Harriet had had the chance to meet him. That family tragedy, followed by the death of his father about a year later, had proved too much for Charles and their wedding plans.
‘I’m the same, too many responsibilities here to even take a holiday these days.’ Needless to say, she hadn’t been back to Scotland since his father’s funeral, when Charles had gone back on his promise of making a life with her. At the time she’d believed grief had driven his decision, but when he’d failed to follow her back to London she’d soon realised he was serious about no longer wanting to marry her. It was difficult to reconcile that man who’d broken her heart with the one stood before her now, making small talk.
‘So, you did stay here after all? I’d hoped you would.’ He was smiling so Harriet didn’t think he was trying to rub salt into the wound he’d inflicted on her that day. She’d never received a proper explanation as to why he’d called things off. Goodness knew, she’d been desperate for one, but she’d eventually had to accept the simple truth that he didn’t want her any more. She’d seen that happen between her own parents when she’d been young and had watched her mother torture herself trying to figure out what she’d done wrong when her father had walked out on them. There was no way she was spending the rest of her life beating herself up about it, the way her mother had until her death.
‘Yes. I’m an orthopaedic surgeon.’
Top of my field, she wanted to add, piqued by the fact he’d never bothered to check up and see what she’d been doing. Then again, she hadn’t done that either, afraid she’d start obsessing over him or what could have been between them. In his case it seemed it was merely down to a lack of interest.
‘Neurologist,’ he countered. ‘I thought it made sense to take that path, so I’d be able to better treat veterans.’
What a team they would have made working together but perhaps she wouldn’t have pursued her career so doggedly if they had married. When she and Charles had been together she’d imagined she could have it all—a career and a family. She’d thought they were a team, on an equal footing and willing to share the responsibilities of raising children. Except the moment Charles’s circumstances had changed he’d backed out and left her to pick up the pieces of her broken heart. She’d paid the price for his actions.
Perhaps she’d had a lucky escape. If he’d proved so unreliable further down the line, he could have left her raising their children alone once he’d decided he didn’t want her after all. As it was, she’d poured her heart and soul into her career because that was the one thing she could count on always being there. Things happened for a reason and she had no regrets when it had moved her focus back onto her work. It didn’t look as though he had any either.
They fell into an awkward gap in conversation, neither apparently knowing what to say to the other but not wanting to make the first move in walking away.
‘Could all attendees please make their way back to their seats for the next talk, please?’
The announcement over the loudspeaker filled the silence on their behalf and left them with the decision of whether to say goodbye temporarily, or for ever.
‘Listen, why don’t we go for a proper drink? The hotel bar should be quiet enough with all the reprobates locked in here for another few hours of telling us things we already know.’ Charles rested his hand lightly at her waist, leaning in so his comment reached only her ears. She could barely feel the pressure of his fingertips on her skin, but it was sufficient to awaken every erogenous zone in her body until she was sure she’d follow him to the ends of the earth.
‘Sure,’ she squeaked.
Damn, she was in trouble.
