by Helen Brooks
She’d had enough of crying. The thought sent something hot and deliberate coursing through her blood, and she took a deep breath, speaking it loud. ‘I am sick and tired of crying.’ The eyes applauded her stand. She wasn’t going to do it any more. Kingsley would contact her soon. Her throat tightened. And she wasn’t going to play any games or pretend she was feeling anything else than what she was feeling. She would ask him about the Canary calmly and composedly, but only when she saw him face to face. That way she would know if he was lying.
Her whole instinct was to run at the moment. Run from any commitment, run from confrontation, run from Kingsley, from love. But she was a grown woman now, not a scared, confused little child who had just lost the two people she cared about most in the world, or a broken young teenager whose love had been trampled into the ground in the cruellest way imaginable.
She had to face this head-on. Not hysterically, admittedly, but neither was she going to brush what she’d seen aside and pretend it wasn’t real. She’d done that with Miles, she realised suddenly. Ignored the tell-tale signs of his affairs because she hadn’t been able to bear to think he would do that to her. But he had. And because he was weak and flawed, not because she hadn’t been enough for him. As Kingsley had said, Miles had been an emotional cripple, inadequate and cruel. Kingsley. Oh, Kingsley, Kingsley. Please come through for me. Please give me an answer that I can believe because it’s true.
He phoned her the next day. ‘I’m coming home, Rosie.’ She liked the way he said home, and then warned herself not to get too starry-eyed so she couldn’t see clearly when she asked him about Tweety Pie. ‘I land at Heathrow at seven on Monday evening.’
‘I’ll meet you,’ she offered carefully.
‘I was hoping you’d say that.’
He was smiling, she knew he was smiling, and for a moment she felt anger that he was all hunky-dory and smiling, and she felt wretched. She took a deep breath. ‘How are the cleaning-up operations going out there?’
‘Not too bad. It’s tough when you see the poverty and some of the locals have lost everything, but it’s incredible how they pull together. Family is strong out here, that’s the thing.’
‘And Alex?’ she asked even more carefully.
‘The doctor his father brought out with him from the States says he can safely be moved at the end of next week, but he’s already seeing signs he feels are hopeful. How hopeful will depend on the tests they run in the hospital back home. Rosie—’
‘His father?’ She interrupted his voice, which had gone into silky soft mode when he’d said her name. She couldn’t handle how it made her feel right now and she needed to be strong. ‘It’s not just his wife who’s out there with you, then?’ she asked, thinking, As if I didn’t know.
‘No, they’re all here.’
Aren’t they just? ‘Right.’ Full marks for the cheerfulness, Rosalie.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked softly.
Or perhaps not full marks, then. ‘Wrong?’ Everything. ‘Nothing,’ she lied firmly.
‘I don’t believe you but I have to go. Take care, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.’
‘I love you.’ At least she could say that and mean it. But the people who were supposed to love you the best always ended up hurting you. She closed her eyes for some time after she’d replaced the receiver. Was Kingsley going to hurt her? She had already hurt him when she had sent him away.
It was a different variation on what she’d been thinking since she had decided she wanted to be with him, and her brow wrinkled. He had conquered his demons for her but she had unwittingly given him a few more when she had refused him before he’d left for Jamaica. And now she might hurt him again when she asked him about Alex’s sister. But he was a man, not a child. She had pussyfooted about with Miles, scared of hurting him or making him angry. If Kingsley was the one for her he would meet her halfway. He might not like what she asked but he could handle it. That was the sort of man he was. The ache inside her deepened.
She wanted to believe in a love that would last for ever. She couldn’t believe how much she wanted to. But that wasn’t wrong or weak, was it? She had only stopped wishing for it when the hurt of being disappointed had been too much to bear, but since Kingsley she had dared to hope again.
Would she have the courage to ask him about Alex’s sister when he was standing in front of her, and she could see what she might lose? She hoped so. She didn’t want to be disappointed in herself just when she was beginning to like what she saw in the mirror for the first time since she had been five years old.
She got to the airport early, not because she had planned to but because she couldn’t help herself.
She had agonised over what to wear since she’d left work at the unheard-of time of four o’clock in the afternoon, and the entire contents of her wardrobe were now strewn over her bed at the flat. Ridiculous. She wrinkled her nose at herself and then moved her head to catch her reflection in the shiny surface of a snack dispensing machine.
She had gone from sophisticated to smart casual to casual and then back to sophisticated again about ten times in the last three hours, but eventually she’d let the weather decide for her. Lightning was flashing in weird jagged streaks across the rooftops and thunder was rolling ominously, but as yet there was no rain, just a stifling heat that was oppressive. She had chosen a light, spaghetti-strap silk crêpe dress in white, which fell to just above her ankles and which was wonderfully cool, dressing it down with slip-on cork sandals. Simple, chic and with just the right touch of ‘I haven’t dressed like this especially for you, I always look this good’.
The plane was on time and her thudding heart belied the outward picture of cucumber-cool, composed femininity that had more than one pair of interested male eyes turning Rosalie’s way. But she didn’t notice any of them. All her senses were tied up with the watching for Kingsley.
And then she saw him. Tall, confident and incredibly handsome. She thought, I’ve bared my soul to this man, told him things I’d never planned to tell anyone. How had it all happened? And then he saw her, raising his hand as his face broke into the smile that never ceased to make her heart jump.
‘Hi.’ He reached her, dropping his case and taking her in his arms. He bent down, pressing his mouth against hers and his lips were warm and firm, the familiar delicious smell of him teasing her nostrils and the hard body sending tingles down her spine. The kiss only lasted moments but she was trembling when he let her go, brushing a wisp of hair from her forehead with the tip of one finger as he said, ‘You look beautiful, incredible.’
‘Incredible’s overdoing it a bit,’ she managed fairly lightly, ‘but I’ll take beautiful.’
“My pleasure.’ He grinned at her and her senses went into hyperdrive as his hands cupped her face as though he couldn’t bear not to touch her. ‘I’ve dreamt of you every night,’ he said softly, ‘but there’s nothing like the real thing.’
Kingsley, oh, Kingsley. I didn’t want to fall in love with you, that hadn’t been the plan, but how do you stop an unstoppable force?
She glanced at the sea of people, her voice small as she said, ‘Let’s go, shall we?’
He looked at her, a searching look, but said nothing, simply reaching for his case and then tucking her arm in his as though it should be there. And she wanted it to be. So much.
Once outside she became aware that the first fat raindrops were falling from a sky that looked like something from a science fiction film. ‘The storm’s breaking at last,’ she said quietly. How strange. It had hung on for days and it had to be the minute they’d met again that the elements unleashed their fury.
Kingsley had just hailed a taxi when the heavens let loose with a sheet of water that had her soaked before she could scramble in. Once in the taxi she realised that the dress that had been so chic and elegant moments before was now completely see-through, hugging her body in a way that would win first prize in any wet T-shirt competition.
&n
bsp; ‘Hell!’ Kingsley raked back his dripping hair, the thin black shirt and trousers he was wearing soaked through but still decent. ‘What is it about me that brings storm and tempest?’
It was said jokingly but something in her face caught his attention, and as the taxi driver began to move gingerly away, windscreen wipers at Olympic speed, he reached for her again, drawing her into him as he said, ‘Okay, what is it? And don’t say nothing,’ and now there was no amusement in the deep voice. ‘This was supposed to be the grand reunion, not a tragedy.’
She shivered, and not just because she was wet through. He had given her flat as their destination, and she had been hoping to wait until they were inside before saying anything. She felt the warmth of his body begin to warm her and she sucked in a breath. She might ruin everything here. She wanted to touch him and hold him, talk with him, love him. But she had to know. She didn’t know how to start. ‘Did you really dream of me?’ she asked a little breathlessly.
‘Sure.’ He moved his head, looking down at her with eyes as blue and clear as sapphires. ‘But if I’d seen you in this dress before it would definitely have featured.’
‘I didn’t realise it went see-through in the rain.’
‘I’m not complaining. It’s all the welcome homes I’ve ever had rolled into one.’ He tilted her chin, kissing her nose and then her eyelids before taking her mouth in a kiss that immediately made her want more. And then he said, ‘So? Spill.’
No accusations. You’re asking the question, that’s all. ‘I saw you on the news,’ she blurted out, not at all as she’d meant to start.
‘What?’ Whatever he’d been expecting, it was clear it wasn’t this.
‘On the news,’ she repeated. ‘They were interviewing someone about the cyclone and you were in the background, helping to rescue an old man?’ She was looking at him very carefully.
‘Well, I’ll be blowed.’ He grinned at her. ‘I’d have sent you a kiss if I’d known.’
She stiffened; she couldn’t help it. ‘Actually you were already busy in that realm.’ She raised her eyebrows questioningly but she had lost him, she could see it in his puzzled face.
‘What realm?’ he said easily.
‘The kissing realm,’ she said tightly. What else?
‘Rosie, forgive me, but I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.’
‘You don’t remember?’ Was that a good sign or a bad sign?
He frowned, his voice holding a thread of impatience. ‘We could go on all night like this, so why don’t you say what’s on your mind and be done with it?’
‘You and the canary.’ Damn, she hadn’t meant that to slip out. Blushing furiously, she qualified, ‘You and Alex’s sister.’
‘Alex’s…?’ His brow cleared. ‘You mean Trixie was in the shot? Is that what you’re getting at?’
Trixie? Oh, her name wasn’t really Trixie, was it? Her grandmother had had an incontinent poodle called Trixie. ‘Not just in the shot,’ she said evenly. ‘You were kissing.’
He stared at her, his eyes narrowing, and she stared back, not at all sure how he was going to react. She tried to read his expression but she couldn’t. She didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling. So much for being able to read his face when she challenged him about it, she thought miserably.
‘Where does the canary come in?’ he asked after a long moment or two, when the only sound was the violent swishing of water from the windscreen wipers and the drumming of rain on the taxi’s roof.
Rosalie shifted uncomfortably, and then became aware that the movement emphasised the taut peaks of her nipples through her damp clothes. Kingsley was aware of it too if the look on his face was anything to go by.
He eventually managed to tear his eyes away, saying again, ‘The canary? I’m sorry but I don’t follow. Why a canary?’
‘I… You…weren’t supposed to hear that. It slipped out.’ Her face felt as though it were going to catch fire.
Dark eyebrows rose. He was demanding an answer.
‘I saw her on the pictures of Alex’s wedding, when you were the best man and she was the chief bridesmaid. She…she was dressed in yellow.’
He continued to study her hot face for a second more and then he began to shake with laughter, much to Rosalie’s chagrin.
‘And she was draped all over you then,’ she continued, and sharply now. ‘And you looked as though you were enjoying it.’
‘Now hold on a minute.’ Still grinning, he shook his head. ‘Trixie is the baby sister I never had. I indulge her, spoil her, tease her, but the thought of anything along the lines you’re suggesting is ridiculous. Damn it, she’s a baby.’
‘A baby?’ Rosalie had promised herself she wouldn’t get mad but he was the limit. ‘A baby with a thirty-eight, twenty-four, thirty-six shape is no baby, Kingsley, and you might not have noticed but the “baby” has got the hots for you,’ she finished somewhat crudely.
‘Rosie, she’s twenty years old.’
‘So? How many men do you know that have girlfriends who are ten, twenty, thirty years younger than them? It isn’t exactly unheard of,’ she said scathingly.
‘You’re jealous.’ He was clearly delighted and she could have killed him. Is this what she’d suffered the torments of the damned for? She took back all the nice thoughts she’d had.
‘Not at all.’ She drew herself up and away from him, as regally as the transparent dress would allow. ‘I just think it’s pretty disgusting to carry on the way she does in public, that’s all.’
‘You are, aren’t you?’ It was faintly wondering and actually doused her anger more effectively than anything else could have done. ‘You’re jealous of a silly little girl who hasn’t a grain of sense in her head and is a damn sight more irritating than anything else. The child’s a pest, Rosie. She always has been. She drives me mad half the time, if you want to know, but, like I said, she’s the kid sister and so I don’t mind.’
She stared at him, barely hearing him past the ‘silly little girl’ bit. He meant it, she thought in amazement. He actually thought that gorgeous young thing was a pest. She still said, ‘You were kissing,’ in a faintly stubborn voice, unable to give in completely. ‘And she definitely doesn’t want you for a brother.’
‘She kissed me, if I remember, and, as she’d come with the news that the doctors were more hopeful about Alex for the first time since he was injured, I might have held her for a moment. And she’s at an age where she’s finding her wings—she flirts with any and every man. It doesn’t mean a thing.’
She stared at him, all eyes, and his voice changed, becoming softer as he murmured, ‘Come here, my love.’
Once she was nestled in his arms he said, ‘I can see it’s going to take me some time to convince you just how much I love you, but it’ll be fun for both of us, I promise. I think I can do it more effectively when I have more time, so how about a long, long honeymoon? I want to learn what you’re like in all your moods—sleepy, grumbly, playful, wicked…especially wicked.’
‘Kingsley—’
‘Say yes, Kingsley.’
‘But—’
‘Yes, Kingsley.’ He kissed her, his mouth demanding her submission, his tongue circling and stroking. He raised his head, aware as well as she was that she was melting against him, her breasts swollen and her nipples hard and puckered against the rasp of his shirt. ‘Yes, Kingsley,’ he repeated again, the blue eyes holding hers.
‘Yes, Kingsley,’ she breathed against his mouth. ‘Yes, yes, yes.’
‘A quick wedding.’ He kissed her again. ‘Very quick. Yes?’
‘Yes.’ She was achingly aroused.
‘Mmm.’ He shifted position slightly, his own arousal rock-hard. ‘I’ve found the perfect method to get my own way.’
The rain was thundering down now, a virtual torrent, causing the taxi to crawl along, but Rosalie didn’t care. The storm had broken but she was safe. She would always be safe with Kingsley. He loved her and he understood h
er, and that was precious. So very precious. He had been worth waiting for.
‘Never doubt my love for a moment.’ His voice was thick with desire. ‘Never. All the doubts, all the fears, we’ll deal with them one at a time, together. You’re not alone, my love. Whilst I’ve breath in my body I’m yours.’
She clung to him, wishing they were alone rather than in a taxi in busy London streets. But there was all the future to be alone together; it stretched, bright and wonderful in front of her eyes, dazzling her.
She could give this man all the love she had stored up in her heart because he wouldn’t hurt her, they were bound by forces that had brought them together and would keep them together. One beating heart in two bodies.
EPILOGUE
IT WAS a simple wedding, but none the less perfect because of it.
The bride looked radiant in a pale silver dress created from chiffon and lace, and she carried a bouquet of delicate orchids, their fragile petals just touched with pink and threaded through with silver ribbons. Kingsley couldn’t take his eyes off her, the love shining out of his face making all the women cry, especially one or two who had harboured vain hopes in their voluptuous bosoms.
The September day was one of brilliant sunshine, and after the reception for family and friends at a lush London hotel there was dancing until late in the night under the stars on the landscaped lawns, the champagne continuing to flow until the last guest retired.
Kingsley had planned a three-month honeymoon in various exotic places, but that night, he’d said, they were going somewhere special. They left the last of their guests still dancing and slipped away together to the limousine Kingsley had waiting, the uniformed driver resplendent and the car seeming to stretch forever as they climbed inside, Rosalie giggling with excitement and champagne.
‘Where are we going?’ Rosalie felt as though she were in a dream, a dream she never wanted to wake up from.