Redeemed by Her Innocence

by Bella Frances

  ‘I’ll bet he did,’ said Nikos, pouring water even though the waiter had just topped up their glasses. But he had to find something to do with his hands or he might rip something up, like the table.

  ‘Yes. You know him? Of course you do. You set this up. I can’t thank you enough.’

  She moved as if she was going to reach across the table and kiss him, but then she stopped herself. It was awkward, and he was now even more furious because it was as if Brody were sitting right there between them, on the table.

  ‘You can thank me later—once I’ve heard what this amazing offer is.’

  ‘He’s going to be a backer. He has pots of money himself and funds people like me. I’m getting a million sterling and for that he only wants ten per cent.’

  ‘Ten per cent of what? The business or the profits or both?’

  ‘Well, the business, I think.’

  ‘You haven’t signed anything yet?’ he said, suddenly aware that his anger was about to pour into curses just thinking about Brody. He should be happy for her, but he was in a rage that was hissing from his skin like steam. He had to keep a lid on himself, but he couldn’t seem to dial it back down.

  ‘Have you?’ he repeated, unable to stifle the derision in his voice, which made him angrier again at himself.

  ‘No. No, I haven’t. Why?’

  She sat back in the seat. Her shoulders slumped down. Her face sank and her eyes filled with concern. He felt like a piece of garbage.

  ‘Do you think this is a bad move? It sounded so good. He was so positive.’

  ‘Tell me exactly what happened.’

  She looked around as if the answer were somewhere in the room full of people eating ridiculously expensive seafood, as if one of them were her witness and might help her out of this problem that had suddenly appeared, the storm cloud in her sunny sky.

  ‘I met him at the expo. I told him why I was here...’

  ‘Which was what? What did you tell him? Did you tell him that you and I...?’

  She put her hand to her chest and looked hurt and horrified, and he caved, he honestly caved. He would do anything for this woman now, he realised. He would do anything and that idiotic creep Brody would be dust before he’d finished.

  ‘No! Of course not. I would never tell anyone what happened.’

  Her eyes had filled up. Silvery tears wobbling on the lids of her eyes, pools he could dive into and not care if he drowned in them.

  This time he reached for her hand, and held it in his own. He rubbed his fingers over hers, feeling the fine bones, the silken skin. He squeezed her hand. She didn’t pull it away but she didn’t meet his eyes and that hurt him.

  ‘I already told you I regretted it so why would I tell anyone about it?’

  She tugged her fingers away but he wouldn’t let her. He leaned forward, touched her chin.

  ‘I don’t. I don’t regret a single moment. I loved what we did. I only wish things were different between us, because I’d very much like to take you out. Properly.’

  She looked up.

  ‘I don’t quite see how that can happen.’

  ‘Things have a funny way of working out. I admit that I haven’t covered myself in glory, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do better. I’m always trying to do better—in everything I do.’

  ‘We all are,’ she said. ‘That’s the reason I came here.’

  He nodded. Part of him wanted to think that she’d come because of him but he’d blown it with his callous treatment of her. And he had a lot of making up to do.

  ‘So, your new backer. Let’s hear the rest of it.’

  She sat back, composed again, but much less excited.

  ‘I simply told him the story of Ariana. My grandmother, Dad, the Jones cut, how hard things are now. The competition from China. The made-to-measure clients that are so hard to come by, and how I’d called that wrong, expanding too quickly...’

  She shrugged and his eyes swooned watching her. She was utterly perfect.

  ‘And he offered you a million just like that?’

  She sipped the wine that had just been poured.

  ‘No. I told him I had been struggling to design. Since Tim.’

  ‘You told Brody about your ex?’

  Why is this hurting you? he chided himself.

  Why should it bother him that she had confided in Brody about her ex when she would barely even acknowledge the guy’s name when he’d raised it?

  ‘Yes. I told him. I told him that my heart had been broken and that I lost control of what I was supposed to be doing. I had fallen in love with the idea of getting married and when it didn’t work out I was stuck. I was stuck in a business where I was reminded every day that I’d failed. It was all I had wanted and I couldn’t lift myself out. The business got into difficulties and I had to take over design again.’

  ‘You told Brody all of that? And what did this look like? Was he taking advantage of you?’

  The black rage was within him now. The angry, jealous beast. The one that he had never allowed to so much as breathe inside him was now a dragon. The thought of sharp, brilliant, handsome Brody with his arm around Jacquelyn, patting her hair and soothing her with his ‘There, there’ and waiting for his moment, the fox in the chicken coop.

  Nikos had to get a grip of himself, he realised. He had to get back to couldn’t-give-a-damn. Because he couldn’t, or at least he shouldn’t. Giving a damn was what had got him married to Maria in the first place.

  Jacquelyn Jones was not his wife. She wasn’t even his girlfriend. If she wanted to tell her sob story to some sharp-suited ex-lawyer-cum-financier, then tell it she should.

  ‘He was a gentleman,’ she said, with quite a heavy dose of indignation in her voice.

  ‘Was he indeed? Good. Good that your new backer is a gentleman.’

  She sat back properly now. ‘You’re jealous. I’ve just figured it out. You didn’t want to get into business with me but you really don’t want anyone else to either. Why are you doing this? Why can’t you be happy for me? You were the one who set it up.’

  ‘Jacquelyn, there is nobody happier for you than me right now. I am delighted for you. I just want to be sure that what you see with Brody is what you get. I don’t want you walking into a disaster and him walking away with half your business.’

  She threw her napkin down now.

  ‘You really have such a low opinion of me. I didn’t realise it until now.’

  He shook his head. ‘No. I have a very high opinion of you. I just don’t think that your business is...going the right direction.’

  ‘Brody saw my problem straight away. He saw what I was trying to do and told me to focus on my designs.’

  ‘Sure. Well, we already discussed that it was a designer that you needed only you couldn’t afford one. You said yourself that your designs were your Achilles heel.’

  ‘Not any more. Brody saw my new sketches. He thinks they’re amazing.’

  Now he knew he was on sure ground. The designs she had shown him were sterile, desperate, just not on the money at all.

  ‘OK.’ He put his hands up. ‘If you’re hearing what you want to hear and you don’t want my advice...’

  ‘My new sketches. I’ve done another four designs,’ she said and her eyes were blazing again. Confidence dripped from the curl of her lashes, the ends of her fingers, the slant of her jaw as she sat back and tilted her head over the plate of crayfish that had just been served.

  ‘I’d love to see them.’

  She put her cutlery down and reached in her bag and pulled out her tablet without taking her eyes off him. The screen flashed to light and she quickly opened up a drawing app. Images popped onto the screen he immediately recognised as electronic sketches of wedding dresses. Vibrant, bold strokes, curving to create voluptuous, feminine figures. These wer
e not at all like the ones he’d seen before.

  ‘That’s quite a departure from what you showed me last time.’

  She nodded.

  He flicked through the pages of each design, his eyes lighting up.

  These were not the sterile aloof brides he’d expected. These brides were proud, and there was a confidence to the way they stood, hands on hips, facing fully forward.

  ‘Wow, Jacquelyn. I’m impressed. You’ve taken this to a whole new level. These aren’t talking “wedding day”. These are talking “wedding night...honeymoon suite”. Was that what you were after? Because that’s what they’re saying to me.’

  He looked up. He could tell she was pleased, but pink dusted her cheeks.

  ‘I didn’t think so at the time but I see what you’re saying.’

  He was saying it all right. And he wanted to say it again, in person, now. He wanted to say it with every masculine part of his body. He wanted to imprint on her that he was the man who had made her sigh and cry and scream her passion in his arms. He was the best lover she had ever had, and, dammit, he was not going to give that crown to any other man.

  It was no good. He threw down his napkin. He couldn’t hold back any more.

  ‘Have you had enough to eat?’

  He was hungry—for her. He had to have her. His loins were full and aching and he was only going to get release one way.

  She looked startled. He was going to have to manage this better, but somehow all his charm had walked out on him and all he had left was red-hot passion.

  He put out his hand and urged her to her feet.

  ‘Come on.’

  ‘Don’t you want to hear more about Brody and the deal?’

  ‘That’s the last thing I want to hear about. I want to talk about something else entirely.’

  He was aware he was touching her, her elbow, her back, her waist, her hand. Possessive and unremitting, all the way through the crowded restaurant where people turned to stare, some of whom he knew, none of whom he wanted to speak to.

  Out on the pavement and into the heat of the uptown evening, he stopped, arm around her waist now, checking up and down the street. The urgency with which he wanted to have her in private was tugging at him, it was the only thing he could think about, but he had to make sure there was no one around.

  People milled past them, cars cruised and stopped, everything sluggish and hot, the day’s heat still hanging over the city like a blanket.

  ‘Let’s walk. It’s only three blocks.’

  ‘To where?’ she said, falling into step beside him. His hand tugged her closer, slid to her hip, felt the movement of muscle and bone through satin, felt his own lust kick in response.

  She didn’t pull away, she leant in closer and he knew with that single move that she was right there with him. She hooked her arm round his waist too and somehow a path appeared through the busy pavements. As if the universe and everyone in it seemed to know that they were lovers on their way to a night of passion and they were going to be rewarded, because it was beautiful. It was lovely. It was making love.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE RAILINGS OF what could only be Central Park stretched out ahead, a forest of iron slicing through grass and trees on one side, and dull grey concrete on the other.

  Jacquelyn’s heels clicked on the pavement, rattling faster than her heartbeat, signalling each new step on this whirlwind journey.

  What on earth was going to happen next today? She’d woken up on a luxury jet, slipped into luxury clothes and cars, then meetings, dinner and now Nikos was steering her towards his apartment block, holding her to his side as if he was afraid the warm, gusty wind might blow her away.

  All her wishes seemed to have been granted. Her dreams were coming true, one by one. Brody’s offer was beyond anything she’d expected—it would solve everything. Salaries, rent, the lag time until next summer when the new orders would start paying. And he was legitimate, she was sure of it. She didn’t sense anything wrong, or creepy, just an honest-to-goodness interest in a traditional wedding dress design company and a belief in her ability, and her new sketches.

  They were her best ever. That was the thing. Her hand had flown about as if possessed, as if somehow disconnected from her head, as if her heart or some other part of her was in control.

  For the first time in her life her drawings felt alive.

  Wedding night. Well, yes, maybe it was that. She knew now what it would have been like. She knew what other women knew, how their bodies would sing and their sensuality would be awakened by the touch of their lover, their husband. They wouldn’t have awakened in the night alone and confused.

  Nikos tightened his grip, holding her even closer, and her treacherous body swooned in response. She had to be careful. She couldn’t let this get out of hand again. They could kiss, but she had to stop at that. She had to tell him.

  ‘In here,’ he said, guiding them into a tall apartment block, studded with elegant green awnings and guarded by a smart concierge, who doffed his cap as they strode right on through, past huge displays of white lilies and roses, a pretty East Asian receptionist, and into a plush, velvet-lined elevator.

  Inside, and the doors slid slowly closed. Nikos reached across and pressed his thumb to the keypad. Immediately an artificial voice welcomed him by name. He ignored it, and stood back, stared straight ahead, expressionlessly. His arm was still around her but other than that he made no move to touch her.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

  ‘Never better,’ he said. ‘Cameras.’

  He nodded to the corner. The lift glided to a slow stop. A bell tinkled and the doors slid open into a light-flooded, parquet-floored vestibule.

  ‘But there are none here,’ he said and he tugged her hand and led her through the space.

  She tried to see where she was, absorb her surroundings, this Park Avenue penthouse apartment, but Nikos spun her round in his arms. She felt his body, his strength, and her desire rose up like a flower hungry for sunshine and rain.

  ‘Nikos, hang on. We need to talk about this,’ she said, pushing herself out of his arms.

  She put her hand up and walked backwards, stopping at a circular table that sat directly underneath a round cupola that flooded the space with light. Doors opened off in all directions, leading on through hallways dark with cherry reds and golds. She put her bag down on the smooth mahogany table, fumbling for the words she should say.

  ‘Jacquelyn—you know I’m sorry about how I handled it. But I can’t get you out of my mind.’

  He walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t pull away.

  ‘You feel the same about me. I know you do,’ he said, his voice quiet.

  Slowly he let his arms slide around her, just holding her, cradled inside his embrace. He gently rocked her and she held his arms in place, loving the feeling, loving the way their bodies seemed to be so in tune.

  Isn’t this what you really want? To be in his arms again? Would it be so bad to have a kiss...?

  He was so close, she let herself fall further back into his arms. Her body tentatively trusting that he was completely there, and he was.

  ‘You know we have something special. This sort of thing doesn’t happen very often. And I know I upset you but this time we’ll play by your rules. Come on, Jacquelyn. Hmm?’

  He bent forward, he nuzzled her neck, and just like that her body sang. She was almost ready to jump again. She could kiss him, she had to kiss him. She had to kiss him and then she had to stop...

  ‘OK.’ She turned around in his arms. ‘But I’m not going to sleep with you,’ she said. ‘I want to make that clear.’

  He pulled back, looked at her, his dark eyes glittering, his mouth curled into a smile.

  ‘That’s clear,’ he said.

  And then she grabbed his face,
she cupped his jaw and pulled his mouth towards her. And for a moment they kissed, slowly, softly, but as soon as his tongue slid into her mouth she was lost. She knew that all she wanted was to go to that place where pleasure and love seemed to find each other.

  ‘I’ve been aching to do this,’ he said as they frantically grabbed at one another, his hands sliding over her dress, lifting her skirt, and she hooking her leg over his hip. He ground into her, crashing them back against a wall, as she held onto his shirt, laughing as she lost her footing, being scooped up and held fast.

  ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day,’ he said, and he slid his hands to her breasts, kneading them, weighing them, tugging at her nipples, already painfully hard, desperately proud and aching for his mouth. He tugged the neck of her dress down, ripping the fabric, exposing her nakedness underneath.

  ‘You wore this dress knowing I was going to take it off you, didn’t you?’

  She threw her head back, clutched his head to her chest and held him there as he laved her with his tongue and teeth.

  She had dressed with him in mind, of course she had. Everything she did was with him in mind. He lived in her mind, in her heart. He had got under her skin; every step she’d taken in this town she’d imagined sharing with him. It was hard to remember that she’d known a world empty of Nikos, when he filled it now so completely.

  ‘I’ve never wanted a woman so much. Touch me,’ he said. Her fingers flew to his belt, his zip, the hard, hot force of his erection. She longed to see and touch and taste and feel him inside her.

  His breath was coming in short panting bursts, between each clever touch.

  ‘We are going to have another night to remember, Jacquelyn.’

  He pulled her closer still.

  Another night like her first. The discovery of love, the heights of passion and the novelty of masculinity, but not just anyone’s masculinity—Nikos, her first ever lover. The man whom she’d always hold in her heart.

  ‘All night long.’

  ‘You won’t get up and leave me in the middle of the night this time?’