by Jess Dee
Then she calmly set her anger aside in favor of analytical objectivity. What was it Maggie had suggested? Daniel could be more of a victim than she was in this whole breakup debacle. He might really love her.
Impossible.
Or maybe not?
Now that she knew the truth about Leona and suspected the truth about her and Daniel’s incredible first kiss, Maggie’s theory didn’t seem so ludicrous. What if it was true? What if he’d loved her from the start and hadn’t known what to do about it?
So he’d set her up.
Shit. If he’d set up their first kiss, he might have set up other incidents, too.
Amy ground her teeth. She’d kill him. The next time she saw him, she’d take him apart, piece by piece.
If she saw him again.
She slurped a mouthful of latte, swallowing it down with her pain and annoyance, and returned to her objective analysis.
The blowjob at the exhibition. Had he set that up, too?
Uh, not likely. Amy had been the one to drop to her knees that night. She’d pretty much lost her inhibitions the second the warmth of his jacket and the scent of his aftershave surrounded her.
And the next day in her flat?
Yeah, she’d been a willing participant in that event, too, lying with her legs spread, acting more like an all-you-can-eat buffet than a woman trying to put a friendship back on track.
What about the cricket-bat incident? There’d been a suspicious lack of marks, bruises, and evidence to suggest an accidental assault had taken place.
What exactly was that business about Lexi attacking her own brother? Was it possible it had never happened?
Uh-uh. Lexi had gone after him with a bat. It took a lot to piss Daniel off, and he’d been ticked that night. But what if the incident hadn’t been quite as bad as the siblings had made out? What if Daniel’s injuries hadn’t been quite so extensive?
Amy’s jaw almost hit the table for the second time that day.
The devious, no-good, scheming sod. He’d tricked her. Found a neat little way to get her close to his almost-naked body. Given her the perfect excuse to touch him—over and over again—and she’d fallen for it.
Oh God. That meant Lexi was in on it, too. Had Daniel mobilized every one his troops to help him seduce her?
She couldn’t swallow her irritation with her next gulp of coffee. And the cheerful, unexpected voice greeting her a minute later didn’t improve her mood at all.
“Amy? Hi.”
Daniel’s older sister stood by her table with her three-year-old son, Ben.
Her heart screeched into overdrive. Was Sarah in on Daniel’s scheming as well? And if she was here, would Daniel be here, too? Was she meeting him for a drink? Supper?
Ridiculous questions. Just because Sarah was here, it didn’t mean Daniel would be. Even if Amy really, really, really wanted him to be. But only so she could kill him. Dead. Or kiss him. Endlessly.
Whichever.
“Oh, hey. Hi yourself. I haven’t seen you since Daniel’s exhibition.” The mere utterance of his name was enough to bring fresh pain and anger slicing through her body.
“Yeah, I know. The weeks are flying by. It’s crazy. The kids take up all my time. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Sarah looked at Ben.
“Hello.” He smiled at Amy, the dimples in his cheeks so similar to Daniel’s it hurt to see them.
“Hey, Benny, what have you got there?”
“Thupper. Mummy’th giving uth a treat tonight. Fith and chipth.”
Sarah shrugged. “I can’t face cooking. With Daniel back today, the kids insisted we go see him as soon as he phoned. Time vanished.”
“Daniel got home today?” Amy wanted to weep. He hadn’t phoned her.
Sarah hesitated. “Yeah, a couple of hours ago.”
“How is he?” Pathetic how desperate she was to hear anything about him.
Sarah looked uncomfortable. “He’s okay. He said the shoot went well. All they have to do is polish a few things before the article is complete.”
A steel band closed around her lungs, squeezing the air out. She prayed her bland expression hid the turmoil churning inside her. “When will it be published?” If she could carry on with the small talk for another few minutes, she could then make an excuse about having to leave. She could go home and throw herself on her bed and scream and sob and shout and cry. Because Daniel was back and he hadn’t phoned.
“I’m not sure. Why don’t you ask him?”
“Uh, yeah…maybe I will.” Or not.
“How have you been?”
Amy thought she detected a note of concern in Sarah’s voice.
“I’m fine,” she lied.
“Ben, give me a minute, please.” Ben was tugging on Sarah’s sleeve. She looked at Amy again. “You’re looking…thinner.”
Amy guessed it was not the word Sarah had wanted to use. Haggard, pissed off, gaunt, confused, drawn, miserable…any one of those would have been more suitable. “I guess I’ve lost a bit of weight.”
Sarah turned to her son. “Will you please stop pulling my arm.”
“But, Mummy—”
“Honey, I’m talking to Amy. Give me a minute.”
“But, Mum? Mummy?”
Sarah cast a long-suffering glance at Amy and turned to her son with a fond smile. “Yes, Ben?”
Ben stared wide-eyed at Amy. “I don’t think Amy hath a pig head.”
Sarah’s cheeks turned crimson. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t think Amy hath a pig head,” he lisped with all the innocence of a three-year-old.
“How can you say such a thing?” She shot Amy a desperate look.
“Well, Uncle Danny thaid he’d athk Amy to marry him if she’d thtop being pigheaded. But I don’t think she hath a pig head.”
Somehow, Amy managed to finish her conversation with Sarah before stumbling home and collapsing into a chair in stunned disbelief.
Had she not been so astounded by Ben’s comment, she would have thought it hilarious. As it was, Sarah had almost crawled out of the shop in embarrassment. She’d cringed as she apologized for her son’s tactlessness and then beaten a hasty retreat before he could say anything more.
Amy was left to figure out for herself what had preceded Ben’s astounding disclosure. A whirlwind of unanswered questions spun through her head.
Maggie thought Daniel might have genuine feelings for her. Leona was involved in a same-sex relationship and was therefore not interested in him. Ben said Daniel wanted to marry her.
Immobile with incredulity, she took stock of the extraordinary lineup of events in her life over the last few months and finally saw them for what they really were.
The kisses, the sudden flare of desire, the irrepressible lust…none of it was coincidental. It must have all been part of his carefully masterminded plan to make his best friend fall in love with him…because he loved her.
It was a stupid, infuriating, irritating, ridiculous plan—and it had worked. Amy had fallen head over heels in love with Daniel. Crazy, madly in love.
Finally, she understood what Maggie had been trying to tell her all along. Her fears about Daniel had been misplaced. Because of Simon and because of her father, she was afraid Daniel would leave her. She was terrified he wouldn’t feel strongly enough about her to want to remain with her. When he’d told her he loved her, she’d dismissed his emotions as the lustful yearnings of an adult man. When he’d spoken about wanting to be with her for always, she’d told him he was talking rubbish.
She’d been wrong. Her logic was flawed and faulty. How else could she put it?
Ah, right. She’d fucked up.
If anything, she was the one who’d been disloyal to Daniel. Her lack of trust and faith were the ultimate betrayal. She should have known better. He was the single most honest person she knew. If he said he loved her, he loved her. Period. She should have accepted that as fact.
Forget the noes and the what-ifs and the fear.
Taking Daniel at his word would have been the best possible basis for building a long-term relationship.
Instead, she’d panicked. The idea of him being away for a month and possibly wishing for his freedom had posed such a threat that she’d run away from the best thing that had ever happened to her. From her best friend and lover and future.
Darkness approached; the last remaining patch of sunlight ebbed, shadowed, and vanished. A dim glow was cast over the walls and chairs from the few streetlights twinkling outside. The near-complete blackness surrounding her reflected the emotion churning inside.
For hours, Amy replayed the chain of events that had brought her to her current situation until only two thoughts echoed through her mind. All Daniel had ever given her was his love, and all she’d ever done in response was screw him over.
She’d failed him.
Chapter Fourteen
The thing about knowing someone loved you, Amy realized, was it was impossible to let go of the idea once it had taken root. Daniel loved her.
He hadn’t planned on leaving her. He’d planned on marrying her. She’d put two and two together and gotten it wrong—horribly wrong. Before another minute of this god-awful misunderstanding passed, she had to make it right. She had to stand up to her fears and vanquish them.
For so long, she’d been afraid of being deserted or rejected, so she’d done everything in her power to avoid another relationship—including hurting herself and the man she loved.
Well, no more. It was time to change. Amy had to set the record straight. She needed to go to Daniel and apologize for being a complete idiot. And then she needed to do anything and everything to earn his trust and his love again. Whatever it took, she’d do it. Because the only thing more terrifying than fearing Daniel might leave her was the prospect of never having him in her life again.
Regardless of the fact it was well into the wee hours of the morning, she doused herself in Daniel’s favorite perfume. The one that made him crazy. It made him stand close and bury his nose in her neck. She searched for the black cocktail dress she’d worn the night of the exhibition, when their relationship had taken such a steamy turn. Impatience took hold of her when she couldn’t find it, and she threw on jeans and a tight T-shirt, too hurried to bother with a bra.
She grabbed her keys and ran. Their relationship couldn’t remain messed up like this for one more second.
The ten minutes it took to drive to his unit and race to the front door seemed more like five hours. Amy pressed the buzzer, her heart pounding.
Blood roared in her ears as she buzzed again. Where the hell was he?
She pressed a third time. Her hand shook. Her whole body shook.
Didn’t he know they had to start the rest of their lives together? What was taking so long?
She tapped her finger nervously against the doorpost. He was here. He had to be. According to Sarah, he’d returned home. According to Ben, he wanted to marry her. Why wasn’t he opening the door?
Finally, finally, came the sound of footsteps. She heard the metal creak of a lock turning, and she wiped damp palms against her pants. Her breath came in short spurts, and her cheeks burned.
The moment of reckoning had arrived.
The door opened, and there he was. His face all warm and sleepy, his glorious curls longer now and tousled. He wore boxers she guessed he must have pulled on in a hurry. They were inside out. She’d woken him. She didn’t care. All she wanted was to throw herself in his arms and drown in his love. Or punch him in the stomach for his ridiculous antics.
Either one would do.
“Morgan? What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“No. Nothing’s okay. I need to talk to you.”
“At three in the morning?” He rubbed his eyes, as though forcing the sleep away.
“It can’t wait.”
He yawned and stretched, the movement pulling Amy’s gaze down to the beautiful symmetry of his chest.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s late. Or early. Whatever. I didn’t want to waste another minute.” Adrenaline coursed through her veins. “Danny, I was wrong.”
“You were?” He looked confused. Who could blame him at this ridiculous hour?
“I was a fool. A blind, pigheaded fool. I can’t believe it took me so—” Movement caught her eye.
A woman stood in his lounge. She wore a white nightgown and looked remarkably like Janine Stillman.
“Daniel?” Janine asked. “What’s going on?”
If Daniel responded, Amy wasn’t aware of it.
A bucket of cold, wet cement had been thrown at her, cutting off her air, blocking her senses, squelching her dreams. She couldn’t breathe. Everything went dark.
Daniel was with another woman.
Pain cut through her. Sensation drained from her body. She was rooted to the floor, paralyzed with shock.
Then instinct took over and she fled, running for the safety of her car, desperate to put distance between herself and them.
“You idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot!” How stupid was she? Why hadn’t she considered the fact Daniel might have company?
Her stomach felt queasy. She’d been right all along. Daniel had wanted his freedom.
How did she get her thoughts so mixed up? Daniel wasn’t in love with her.
Hadn’t she learned anything about men? They always moved on. Daniel especially. He was the king of moving on. Why should it be different with her? Because a three-year-old told her so?
The inky blackness of night obscured her vision, and she stumbled over something on the footpath. Damn it, why weren’t there any streetlights?
Tears sprang to her eyes.
Don’t cry. Not yet. Wait ’til you get home.
She tried to unlock her car, but she couldn’t seem to get her fingers to work properly.
A hand clamped around her wrist from nowhere, and she dropped her keys.
“Amy, damn it, wait!”
Daniel was behind her, trapping her between the car and himself.
Oh God. Her defenses were down. She was vulnerable. She couldn’t face him like this.
“Leave me alone.” She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp. Her efforts were futile.
“Calm down.”
She’d found him with another woman and he was ordering her to calm down? Rage replaced her shock.
“Let go!” She thrashed against him.
“Not until you tell me what you’re doing here.” His grip was a steel vise.
“I’m trying to go home,” she bellowed. “But. You. Won’t. Let me.” With her free arm, she elbowed him in the ribs, hard.
“Shit!” He winced but held tight. “That…hurt.”
“Good.” She lifted her arm to strike again, but before she could deliver another blow, he grabbed her other wrist and thrust himself forward, wedging her against the car.
She couldn’t move.
“Don’t scream again. You’ll wake the neighbors.”
She tried to wriggle her way out of his grasp, grinding her butt against him. He didn’t budge, but his response was unmistakable. His erection grew and lodged between her buttocks.
Hypocrite.
“Let. Me. Go.”
“Quit struggling.” He released her wrists and grabbed her hips, stilling her efforts.
Her body screamed in awareness. The last time they’d been this close, they’d made love.
“Quit holding me prisoner.”
“Just as soon as you tell me what the hell is going on. Why did you come?”
“It was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here.” Her body was stiff, poised to bolt at the slightest hint of him weakening.
“Yeah, but you are, and I want to know why. What were you trying to tell me?” His voice was low, and his breath tickled her neck.
Every nerve ending stood to attention. “It’s not important.”
“Five minutes ago, it was important enough for you to wake me up in the middle of the night.”
“Five minu
tes ago, I didn’t know you were with her.”
He spun her around. “Her?”
“Janine. Remember? The woman walking around half-naked in your apartment?”
He dropped his hands and took a step back, muttering a few choice expletives. “You must pride yourself on your low opinion of me.”
“You don’t leave me much choice.” She was hurting, and she wanted to hurt him back. Hell, she wanted to punch his lights out.
“I suppose it makes sense. You see a woman in my apartment and automatically assume I’m sleeping with her.”
“What else am I supposed to think?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “That you’re working on your article at three in the morning?”
“Something like that.”
“‘Something like that’? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means she’s staying at my place until we finish the article.” He was shouting now. Well, not quite shouting, but his voice was much harsher than usual. “Is that such a crime?”
“It is if you’re fucking her.”
“And why is that? Because you’re jealous?” This time when he spoke, his voice was soft and much, much colder.
She glared at him. She was jealous. She was sick with jealousy.
“You lost your right to that emotion five weeks ago.”
The fight drained out of her and her shoulders sagged. What could she say? She didn’t have the right to be jealous. “Look, I’m sorry I woke you. I shouldn’t have come. Go back to Janine. I’m going home.”
“Christ, you’re stubborn.”
She stared at him.
“I’m not sleeping with her.”
Somewhere, a flicker of hope began to burn. “You’re not?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why the hell do you think not?” He grabbed her shoulders and hauled her against him. “Because I love you,” he bit out before crushing his lips to hers.
The world tipped off its axis as relief filtered through Amy’s tumultuous emotions. He loved her. He held her so tightly she couldn’t breathe, but it didn’t matter. His mouth assaulted hers, bruising it, but she didn’t care. He loved her.
He wrenched his lips away. “Wait…you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”