Page 26 of Enemies Under One Roof

‘Who was behind it then? And why haven’t you mentioned it before now?’

‘When I realised we’d been photographed…kissing…’ The word hung heavily between them, his nostrils flared and her heart skipped a beat. The kiss had become embedded in her memory and refused to be ripped out. ‘I was…’ Devastated, gutted, shocked, because she’d been wrapped in a world where nothing existed except him. ‘Caught completely off guard. As soon as I saw my then-publicist, I knew she was behind it.’

He shot to his feet and started pacing. ‘Why didn’t you call her out at the time?’

Ivy stood and shook her head, willing him to believe her. ‘It’s…complicated but I’m sorry for the way I handled it. For all the harm it caused you.’

He stopped and reared up like she’d struck him, as he raked a hand through his hair. ‘Why are you telling me this today? What’s your angle, what do you want? And why is it so complicated?’ he fired off in quick succession.

Her insides clenched. Had she expected him to automatically believe her? For the past to disappear altogether so they could start afresh from today?

If she could turn back time, would she have done it differently, if she had known the ramifications? Yes! No! She couldn’t answer, because although she’d desperately needed a protective barrier, she’d hated hurting him.

‘Because after today and what we’ve decided, I felt you should know. It was important you knew the truth.’ But right then she knew she could hardly expect him to believe her without revealing the reason why. Not the full why of course, because she’d never be able to bear his condemnation and utter repulsion if she did, but still she wanted him to know at least partly why Ivy was created.

She bit her lip. ‘And it’s complicated because after my parents…died—’ she stumbled over the words, before purposely slowing ‘—I threw myself into acting, to cope. I’d done some in school productions and enjoyed it, but in the aftermath of their deaths I needed acting as a means of escape, so I took classes and auditioned for everything possible. That’s when I created Ivy. She’s everything I’m not. She’s not, nor ever has been, grief-stricken, reeling from her parents’ deaths. Being her, playing her, was the only way I felt I could survive. And now—’ she barely prevented a wince ‘—it’s what people expect, want, so that’s what I give them. I knew in that moment I needed to be her. But that day, it made everything worse, and I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.’

His eyes widened and his sharp intake was clear over the pounding of her heart. Perspiration trickled between her breasts, and her knees trembled, but still she remained standing; it was the least she could do.

* * *

Every muscle in his body tightened.

She’d created Ivy to help with her grief?

His throat burned, imagining how bad it’d been for Annie that she’d sustained the persona of Ivy all these years. Her obvious distress reached inside and loosened something tightly held within him that he didn’t even realise had lodged there, until it floated away and the band of tension across his chest eased.

She worried at her bottom lip, her face drained of colour except for the slash of red across her mouth, as empathy and something deeper, something beyond his grasp, snaked down his spine, forging a connection stronger than anything he’d ever experienced.

All the while his mind whirled as everything he’d believed about her switched gears and changed.

‘That’s why you’re Ivy?’ he clarified, his voice low and husky.

She nodded. ‘Yes. And she’s not going anywhere.’ Her shoulders slumped and she didn’t seem too happy about it. ‘But I wanted to let you know why. I know you were angry that day.’

He hadn’t just been angry, he’d been teeth-rattlingly furious when he’d thought she’d staged the photos, and worse, been so intoxicated by her he hadn’t noticed she’d been acting. That she’d played him when he’d sworn he’d never let anyone do that to him again, as his feelings had swung from something he had no name for, to something he did—utter abhorrence.

He shifted his feet trying to anchor himself, because for eight years he’d had no doubts about her true character. But over the past weeks he’d kept losing his balance as she revealed parts of herself that didn’t fit that persona, and now she’d exploded the foundation of everything he’d believed about her.

Compassion and a grudging respect replaced all his former anger. Still, something niggled because he was convinced she was holding something back. Then a suspicion jackknifed through him. Is this what Ben knew? Was he involved? Was that the secret?

‘Does Ben know?’

‘What? No! Absolutely not.’ Ivy vehemently shook her head. ‘Only my former publicist and probably the pap. Not even Ruby knew.’

His grip on the back of the chair eased marginally. Ruby, who’d defended Ivy, or Annie as she’d called her that day, but Ethan had cut her off. The one and only time they’d come close to an argument, a memory he hated, because upsetting Ruby was the one thing he’d never wanted to do. He’d refused to discuss it any further, and Ruby had never mentioned it again. After that he’d been careful never to be at WillowGlen at the same time as Ivy. Until now.

Was this why Ruby had left the place to both of them? For him to uncover the truth? Because Ruby had believed Ivy when Ethan hadn’t.

Only why did it matter now, after all these years, when it didn’t change that he and Ivy inhabited widely different worlds? Even with her reason for being Ivy, it didn’t alter the fact that her lifestyle and choices were the complete antithesis to his. Would always be. Even if they didn’t reflect the person he was getting to know, day in, day out. A confusing mix of Ivy and Annie. Ivy, who veered from icy to coy and Annie, who was funny and smart and kind.

Unwittingly, the memory from the folly struck hard. Her softness beneath his greedy hands, the breathy moans she’d made, the scent of spring enveloping him as he’d lost all sense and reason.

Momentarily light-headed and queasy, he shook his head. Lust was normal. It didn’t mean anything other than he had a healthy sex drive.

Still, he needed to think logically.

What if the photographer hadn’t captured those photos?