Jack was cutting open hay bales when Belle came to find him after their visit to the solicitor’s office. Around his feet was dancing a tiny black-and-white pup, tail wagging like crazy.
‘God, he’s so pretty,’ said Belle, instantly cheered. ‘Is this the surprise then?’
‘Yeah. And he’s a she.’ Jack scooped the pup up and handed her to Belle. ‘A little mini-Trix. How’d you two get on?’
Belle shrugged. ‘Turns out Milly’s mega-wealthy. Hello, gorgeous.’ She kissed the puppy’s head.
Jack stood still, staring at her. ‘You’re serious?’
‘Deadly,’ said Belle. She looked at him. ‘It’s done then? The Tank thing?’
‘It’s done.’ Tank had been an ammunition technician in his army years, specializing in deployment, disposal and setting of IEDs; he’d seen to Javier Matias.
‘Need a hand here?’
‘Always.’ He leaned in and kissed her.
Belle leaned in too, twining her arms around his neck. The pup, caught between them, wriggled and let out a yelp. Carefully, Belle set her back on the ground.
‘Jack?’ she said, frowning.
‘Hm?’ He was pulling her in again, but she resisted. ‘What?’ he asked, his dark blue eyes holding hers.
‘What will you do now? Will you stay here, on the farm?’
‘Dunno,’ he said. Then he grinned. ‘Mind you – there’s always a war going on somewhere, with my name on it.’
Belle nodded. She had a handle on Jack Tavender now; he was an adventurer, always looking to new horizons. She’d drifted into his life and it was good luck alone that he’d been here, on the farm, just when she needed him. Six months earlier or six months later, that might not have been the case. Maybe he’d sell this old place. Move on. Maybe he’d go soldiering again, to a new future that didn’t include her. Or maybe to one that did. Her feeling was that whether they stayed together or were apart – even at the far corners of the world – they would probably come back together again, drawn by the powerful magnetism they shared. Maybe this was love. Belle wasn’t sure about that. But it was certainly something very like it.
Belle sighed. ‘Milly’s freaked out by it all, you know. Her inheritance. She wants me to take over. Handle things. The business. The manor. Which is scary. And sort of exciting.’
‘What do you know about business?’
‘Nothing.’
He shrugged. ‘You could do it.’
‘Maybe. You know – we ought to take a holiday. Your mate over in Berkshire could look after the horses and this little one here for a couple of weeks and we could all go down to the Med. You, me – Milly too.’
‘On what?’
‘On Charlie Stone’s yacht. Lady of the Manor. Actually – it’s Milly’s yacht, now.’
He tilted his head. ‘So,’ he said. ‘She’s the lady of the manor and you’re the boss of it.’
‘The clubs could be salvageable,’ she said. She knew that Milly was going to have a mountain to climb, but she was determined to help her do that. They were the can-do girls, after all. Strong together, weaker apart.
‘They could.’
‘Don’t fancy the furniture business too much though.’
‘It’s all out there, Belle,’ he said. ‘It’s all waiting for you.’
‘Yeah. It is.’
She would have a new life now. She was free of the toxin of Harlan at last. Free of the suffocating shelter that had been imposed on her because of Charlie Stone’s drugs empire.
One thing was certain: she knew that this new life of hers was never, ever going to be dull. She could grab it, embrace it – enjoy it, at last. And she would.