All Because of You Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  Title

  Copyright

  Dedication

  About the Author

  Praise for Melissa Hill

  Also by Melissa Hill

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Version 1.0

  Epub ISBN 9781407090221

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  Published by Arrow Books 2007

  7 9 10 8

  Copyright © Melissa Hill 2006

  Melissa Hill has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  First published in 2006 by Poolbeg Press Ltd

  Arrow Books

  Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road,

  London, SW1V 2SA

  Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm

  The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 9780099499695

  The Random House Group Limited supports The Forest Stewardship Council (FSC), the leading international forest certification organisation. All our titles that are printed on Greenpeace approved FSC certified paper carry the FSC logo. Our paper procurement policy can be found at www.rbooks.co.uk/environment

  Typeset by Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

  Grangemouth, Stirlingshire

  Printed in the UK by CPI Bookmarque, Croydon, CR0 4TD

  To Paula Campbell –

  thanks for everything

  Melissa Hill is originally from Cahir in Co. Tipperary, and now lives with her husband Kevin and their dog Homer in Co. Dublin. She is also the author of Not What You Think and Never Say Never.

  Praise for Melissa Hill

  ‘Laugh-out-loud humour and a thrill to read’ B

  ‘A very warm, good-hearted story’ OK!

  ‘Be warned – you won’t put down’ Sunday World

  ‘The literary equivalent of Thelma & Louise – feel-good and bittersweet . . . feels as good as a gossip with your mates!’ New Woman

  ‘Compelling, gripping, a real page-turner’ Irish Examiner

  ‘She writes wonderfully life-like characters, whose negotiations of the trials of life are easy to identify with. Her writing is natural and effortless – her stories cannot fail but to be satisfyingly consumed in a matter of hours’ Irish Independent

  ‘A gem!’ Evening Herald

  ‘A warm and engaging read – perfect for the beach!’

  Colette Caddle

  ‘One to read’ U Magazine

  Also by Melissa Hill

  Something You Should Know

  Not What You Think*

  Never Say Never*

  Wishful Thinking

  The Last to Know

  * Published by Arrow Books

  Acknowledgements

  Huge thanks yet again to the following people:

  As always, lots of love and thanks to Kevin. In more ways than one, I couldn’t do this without you.

  My family – Mam, Dad, Amanda and Sharon – and all my friends, who continue to be supportive and excited for me, despite trying to keep their eyes from glazing over whenever I mention the word ‘book’. And to Homer, who always manages to cheer me up if my writing happens to hit a tight spot.

  To Poolbeg – Kieran, Claire, Lynda, Conor and Niamh – who continue to do Trojan work on my behalf: thank you. To my editor Gaye, who somehow always manages to ‘get’ what I’m trying to do and (most of the time!) lets me. And huge thanks to Paula, who has championed my work from day one and to whom this book is dedicated.

  To the Arrow team – thanks to Kate and Georgina for being so enthusiastic about my writing, Faye, Rob and Trish for working so hard on my behalf (Rob, thanks again for bringing me along to Parky to see George M!). To Rina Gill for Herculean publicity efforts, and to everyone at Random House for making my visits to London so enjoyable. Also huge thanks to those at Random House Australia for such a lovely welcome in Sydney last December.

  To my brilliant agent Sheila Crowley (and her seemingly never-ending supply of bubbly!) and all at AP Watt who look after me so well.

  To all the booksellers in Ireland and the UK who give my books terrific support, and who are always so welcoming whenever I pop in for a visit. Thanks in particular to Hilary at Bridge St Books in Wicklow, also Eason in Clonmel and Pat in Chapter One in Cahir for supporting me so well back home in Tipp.

  Finally, a special thanks to all who buy and read my books, and allow me to continue living my dream. I’m so very grateful. Thanks too for your lovely messages of support through my website www.melissahill.info.

  I very much hope you enjoy All Because of You.

  Prologue

  So this was how real love felt, she thought happily, her body humming with joy as she lay back and closed her eyes. This was what she’d waited all this time for. He was what she’d waited all this time for.

  And it was just as wonderful as she’d imagined.

  She turned her head sideways and in the darkness watched him sleeping peacefully alongside her – watched the way his long eyelashes looked strangely feminine against such a masculine face. God, he was gorgeous, she thought, reaching out and gently stroking his cheek.

  And, after tonight, he was hers at last.

  She still couldn’t believe that it had finally happened, that after all this time he had finally admitted that he was in love with her too, that she was the one – had always been the one – for him. OK, so he hadn’t said those exact words out loud, but he’d said them in other ways, hadn’t he?

  She sighed as she recalled the feel of him, the taste of him, the softness of his ski
n . . . She shook her head, amazed at the immense effect he had on her. But what would happen to them now, she wondered, her initial euphoria about the wonderful evening they’d just spent together slowly being replaced by a creeping trepidation and a growing sense of guilt. She bit her lip.

  There would be problems to overcome, certainly, and yes, people might get hurt, but this was meant to be, wasn’t it? They were meant to be.

  She hadn’t really given it much thought earlier on. She’d been aware of the fact that they shouldn’t be doing it, of course, it was difficult not to be, but the few drinks she’d had beforehand had thrown any restraint she might have had out the window.

  And how could she not be with him, this amazing guy she’d adored almost on sight, who was the first person she thought of in the mornings and the last at night? Who made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world; who made her think she could achieve anything? Who had kissed her so passionately and when making love had instinctively known his way around her body? All of which convinced her more than ever that the two of them were soul mates.

  And that was all that mattered at the end of the day, wasn’t it?

  After all, if they were really in love, what else could they do? They couldn’t help how they felt about one another, could they? And it had all felt so right – so it seemed inconceivable that they wouldn’t be together properly after this. OK, so there were lots of things to sort out, but whatever happened, they’d face it together. And eventually, everything would work out fine.

  Just then, the sleeping figure beside her stirred and opened his eyes.

  “Hello there,” she smiled leaning forward, and kissing him on the lips. “You nodded off for a good while there.” Although she had dozed a little herself immediately afterwards, there had certainly been no question of her falling asleep – not after such an amazing night and certainly not here. There was way too much to think about. But of course men were different, she thought affectionately.

  But instead of returning her kiss, he quickly sat up and stared wildly around him, as if trying to remember exactly where he was.

  “What’s going on? What are you . . .?” Running a hand through his hair, he turned back to look at her properly and, taking in her still-dishevelled dress as well as his own, evidently began to recall what had happened. “Oh, God.”

  This was inevitable, she told herself calmly. It was only natural he’d be a bit bewildered by the whole thing. It was all right for her – she’d already spent the last while lying awake thinking about it all, while he’d slept things off. So, once he’d woken up properly, and they’d had a chance to talk about what had happened between them, and where things would go from here . . .

  Then, catching sight of his expression, her heart sank. This wasn’t just disorientation, she thought, gathering her clothing protectively around her – he was already having second thoughts. Oh no, please don’t, she said silently. Not after the wonderful time we’ve just spent together. Please don’t ruin it.

  “What is it?” she said, longing to touch him but sensing that she shouldn’t.

  “What is it?” he repeated, his voice shaking. “What do you think it is? We didn’t . . . I didn’t use anything. Jesus, how could we have been so stupid?”

  She gulped. She was well aware of that too, and doubly aware of how stupid she’d been for allowing it to happen. But she’d been drunk – not only on alcohol – but on her love for him and, at the time, everything else just seemed unimportant. But it would be OK; she knew her cycle well and she’d just had her period the week before so everything should be fine.

  “I can’t believe it,” he was saying. “Of all the stupid . . .”

  He seemed different now, jumpy, irritable. She didn’t like it.

  “Look, it’ll be OK,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as him. She didn’t know if it would be OK, but she didn’t want their special night together ruined by worrying about it.

  He turned to face her.

  “Look,” he began, his tone now considerably calmer and sounding much gentler, much more like the real him. “I’m sure you know as well as I do that all of this was a mistake – a huge mistake.”

  She didn’t know how she found the strength to nod, never mind speak. “A mistake?”

  “Look, you know I care for you a lot, but this should never have happened. We’d both had a few drinks and . . . well, I really should have known better.” Then he stood up and ran a hand through his dark hair. “God, you have to know that I don’t make a habit of this kind of thing, I’ve never . . . well, we both did something very stupid and if anything were to happen or if anyone were to find out –”

  “It’s OK,” she told him gently. “Nobody will find out. I won’t say a word.”

  A look of relief crossed his face, and then he reached over and kissed her chastely on the cheek.

  Instantly her heart plummeted in her chest. Why was he acting like this – so cold and distant and so utterly different from last night?

  “Thank you,” he said, as he turned away and began putting on his shoes. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that. And please don’t think badly of me – as I said, I’ve never done anything like this before, and the last thing I want is to hurt anyone.” He sighed.

  “It’s OK.” She tried not to let her disappointment and utter humiliation show. How could he change so suddenly from the wonderful gentle guy she knew to this . . . this aloof and almost detached one? What had gone wrong? Surely it couldn’t have been just the drink? In order for them to be in this situation in the first place, it had to have been more than that. Or was it that he just didn’t want to admit it? Was he afraid that, because of their circumstances, it would all be just too difficult?

  “Look, I’m sorry if I sounded a bit . . . weird there,” he said then, as if reading her thoughts. “Last night was great – it’s just . . . you know,” he shrugged, “obviously, it shouldn’t have happened – and especially not like this. But please don’t think badly of me. You’re great, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

  “You haven’t,” she said, trying now to harden her heart, trying to pretend this wasn’t really happening. “You’re right – it should never have happened and, to be honest, I’m as much to blame as you are.” She shook her head. “And I feel as guilty as you do too.” She did feel guilty, but right then the overpowering emotion she felt was regret. Regret that their wonderful night together was ending like this.

  “God, if you were to get pregnant or something –”

  “I won’t,” she assured him once more, hoping she sounded convincing. “I promise you, everything will be all right.”

  Chapter 1

  “Before you ask, no, I haven’t.”

  “You haven’t what?”

  “I haven’t lost any weight since the last time I was here.” Her stance was resistant, almost hostile, Tara Harrington thought, as she surveyed the woman sitting across from her. “I know I should have but –”

  “Mary, wasn’t achieving fitness your primary goal the last time you were here?”

  “Well, yes, but . . . I haven’t done it anyway,” she replied quickly. “I know I should join a gym or something but . . .”

  Lots of “buts” and “shoulds” in this conversation, Tara noted.

  “You spoke about joining a gym last time we met, didn’t you?” Tara said, trying to keep her tone nonjudgemental. “I take it you haven’t yet done that?”

  “Well, I really didn’t have the time,” Mary replied defensively.

  Tara immediately changed tack. The gym was clearly a non-runner here.

  “OK, well, besides the gym, what other everyday things could you do to increase your fitness levels? Simple things that don’t take up too much time?”

  Mary shrugged. “I suppose I could use the stairs at work instead of the lift.”

  “Good.” Tara nodded approvingly. “What else?”

  “Em . . . I suppose I could walk to
the corner shop when I need milk or a newspaper instead of taking the car?”

  “Very good.” Then, as Mary obviously wasn’t about to come up with any more ideas, Tara continued, “Are there any other forms of exercise that you used to like doing, or would possibly do if you had more time?”

  After a beat Mary replied, “I suppose I like swimming on holiday. I was in the pool every day during our last holiday in Spain so I suppose I should do it at home. That’s a form of exercise, isn’t it?”

  Mary’s use of the expression “should” yet again put Tara on alert. The woman wouldn’t get results if she had to force herself to achieve them, and it was up to Tara to ensure she didn’t see it that way.

  “OK, well, what would you need to do to enjoy swimming at home here in Ireland?” she asked her, using a slight inflection on “enjoy”.

  Mary looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure really.”

  “Perhaps you could arrange to go swimming with a friend, or a work colleague, even?”

  Mary didn’t look too thrilled about the prospect. “Maybe.”

  Tara put down her pen and looked the other woman directly in the eye. “Mary, on a scale of one to ten, ten being fully committed to becoming fit, where are you?”

  The other woman sighed and looked away. “About a five or six.”

  Tara’s tone immediately became firmer. “Then, do right now what you need to take your commitment to preventing heart disease to a ten.”

  Mary looked up, a little taken aback at this. She thought for a moment before answering. “Well, now that you mention the reason I’m doing this in the first place, it’s a ten, definitely a ten.”

  “So, on a scale of one to ten, how committed are you to becoming healthy?”

  “Definitely ten.” She was now nodding vigorously.

  “So, if your commitment to becoming healthy is a ten, what is your commitment to walking up the stairs instead of taking the lift? Or walking instead of driving to the shop?”

  “Ten.” Mary was speaking with much more conviction now, exactly the response that Tara wanted.