‘No.’ Emily turns to him and props herself up on one elbow. ‘I mean what happened? I know she died, and I know it’s hard to talk about, but I just want to understand.’

‘Understand what?’ Rupert gives a shaky laugh. ‘There’s nothing to understand.’ He reaches for her, stroking from behind her ear and tracing a line down her neck and along her collarbone in the way he knows she loves.

Emily shivers, and leans down to kiss the back of his hand. ‘Who she was. Why she did the things she did.’

‘You already know that.’ Rupert sighs. ‘She was bi-polar, her moods were all over the place. The police knocked on the door and said they’d found her car close to the Severn Bridge, along with a note. It was pretty obvious what she’d done.’

‘It must have been devastating for you.’ Emily grasps his hand tightly, and presses it to her lips. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine it, how it must have felt.’

‘Yeah,’ Rupert nods slowly, ‘it was devastating. But you know, you can’t let things like this make time stand still, you have to keep going, move on. I took the time to heal and deal with things and then you walked into my life and look at us now.’

‘Did you have any idea, though? That she would go that far? I mean, lots of people are bi-polar, but they don’t do what she did.’

‘Emily…’ Rupert sighs, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments as the warm sea breeze rustles his hair. ‘No. I didn’t have any idea. It was a total shock, and now I’m just glad I have you, and our life together ahead of me.’

‘Yes, but…’ Emily starts to say something, but Rupert silences her with a kiss, a proper kiss that takes her breath away as he slides his tongue into her mouth, his hand stroking her nipple through her bikini top.

‘Come on,’ Rupert pulls Emily to her feet and leads her gently towards their hotel room, any other unasked questions sliding right out of Emily’s mind, forgotten as Rupert lays her down on the huge white bed and covers her body with his own.

Chapter Thirteen

Something’s not right. The thought crosses my mind the minute I step foot inside the house, goosebumps rising on my tanned forearms as Rupert bumps our heavy suitcase into the hallway behind me. I can’t put my finger on it, as I walk past the living room into the kitchen. Nothing is out of place, not that I can tell, and nothing seems to be missing, but there is a feeling in the air. As though someone has been in the house, and recently too. Walking back, I pause at the foot of the stairs, almost unwilling to go up them.