He sighed, shaking off those thoughts and took in his surroundings, checking Simon’s whereabouts. At the bar. Good. He liked keeping an eye on him.
His smile disappeared when Zoe arrived at his table, with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a glass in the other.
“Refill?”
“No thanks.” Adam frowned. But she didn’t take the hint, sitting beside him, so he smiled. His fake one. Try to be nice. Now this was difficult.
He watched the woman, studying her. He didn’t trust her or like her. He knew what she was capable of.
“Having fun?” Zoe said.
“Yeah, lots.”
“Find it hard to believe with Miss Goodie –”
“Her name is Sophie.” Adam turned away, sucking in a deep breath. He didn’t want to waste time on this woman, who was filled with jealousy and spite. He was half-tempted to get up and join Cassie back on the dance floor. Rescue the poor new bloke she’d wrapped herself around.
Adam liked Cassie. Harmless fun. And not once had she tried anything with him. Okay, she flirted, but she flirted with everyone, even Sophie. He glared back at Zoe. This woman meant harm.
“Where is she, anyway? Can’t believe she’s not draped on your arm. She never used to let Simon breathe.”
“She’s gone to the ladies. We’re not joined at the hip.” Adam didn’t bother looking at her, watched the dance floor instead, laughing at Cassie’s antics.
“You sure?” Zoe said spitefully. “I can’t see Simon. I bet she isn't over him, like she says she is.”
Adam shot a glance at the bar, not listening to Zoe’s malicious words as she continued to ramble. She was right; Simon had gone. He looked around the large room, searching every table and the dance floor. He felt a hand brushing his cheek.
“While the cat’s away, babe, why don’t the mice play?” Zoe purred in his ear.
Adam shoved the hand away. With a look of disgust, he stood up, revolted to be in her presence.
“Well, I’m definitely not a rat. Go find some other toy to play with.”
He walked out of the ballroom wanting to find Sophie. Or Simon. It didn’t matter who first. As long as they weren’t together.
Chapter Fifteen
Preened, with lipstick and make-up touched up, Sophie left the restroom satisfied. She giggled to herself, realising she’d had too much to drink. Oh, why had Cassie insisted on a couple of glasses of champagne to calm their nerves before walking down the aisle? They weren’t the ones getting married.
She couldn’t stop herself smiling, thinking of Adam on the dance floor. How much would he pay her not to tell everyone at work? Although she wouldn't say anything really, but she could always use it for her own advantage, when he pulled out the old 'smile' card. Or if she needed a favour at work
Sophie! That’s probably the reason he doesn’t like people knowing who he is. Probably why he doesn’t get attached to women either, thinking they’re interested in his money, not him. Shame on you! You’re better than that.
Here, this weekend, it didn’t matter. Adam didn’t need his money, Sophie didn’t want it. She’d still fancy him, managing director of Thomas Robotics or not.
Oh, Sophie Trewyn, you’re in trouble.
As she walked round the corner, her smile dropped.
“Hello, Sophie.”
“Simon.” She tensed, clutching her bag tighter.
“Look, can we talk?” Simon slowly led her away from the wedding party.
Hesitantly she walked with him. “I’d rather we went back to the ballroom.”
“I just want to talk.”
“We can talk in the -”
“Alone. It’ll take five minutes.”
Her heart beat faster, erratic, and she found it hard to look him in the eye. Why did he still have this effect on her? Why couldn’t she act coolly around him? Why did her insecurity creep in? She hadn't forgotten how badly he'd hurt her. He might be a handsome man, but he no longer attracted her. She saw straight through him. She’d find out what he wanted, then get the hell away from him. Maybe he wants to apologise for his behaviour.
He walked her around to a secluded corner. They could barely hear the music coming from the ballroom. She searched for people but there were none. She nervously frowned at him.
“Simon, what's this about? What do you want?”
“I just want to talk to you.” He sounded drunk, slurring his words. “I want you back.”
“I'm sorry, but I don't want you back in my life.” Why am I apologising?
“Oh, come on, Sophie. You know you don't believe that.” He moved closer; she moved back until she was up against the wall. “I don’t believe it, either.”
She tried sidestepping but he followed. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and grimaced. She’d made a mistake.
“We can start from where we left off.”
“Simon, it’s over between us.”
“Sophie, please, let me back into your life.”
For a moment, Sophie thought he looked rather pathetic, and then, as if he’d seen her guard dropping, he moved forward and placed his hands on her waist.
Sophie pushed at his hands, but each time he placed them somewhere else. Fear had frozen her. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to make a scene, ruin Natalie and Gareth’s day. She could be overreacting.
Think.
“I’m sorry, okay. I did something stupid, I won’t do it again,” he whispered in her ear, kissing around her neck, a hand brushing her cheek. Hot breath and the stench of alcohol immobilised Sophie. “I promise.”
“Simon, get your hands off me!” she snapped, again trying and again failing to shove him away. “You said you wanted to talk.”
“I do.”
He was way too strong for her, his solid body pressed against hers. Her heart thumped hard inside her chest. She wanted to scream, realising she might be in real danger, but couldn’t. Simon wouldn’t harm her, would he?
“Look, Simon, please. Adam will be –”
“Forget Adam. Let me remind you of what we had.” Ignoring her pleas, he gently stroked her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, unable to look at him. Her eyelids stung trying to force back tears. “Remember what we had, huh?” he whispered, nibbling her neck. “We were so good together, babe.”
“You said I was –”
“Forget what I said. I wanted to hurt you back then.” His wet, drunken kisses plastered her bare skin. Her heart ached with fear, her blood pounded in her ears. She could hear only that and Simon, everything else was deafened. “Does he push the same buttons, babe? Like I use to.” Simon groaned, pressing himself harder against her.
He slid his rough, calloused hand gently down from her neck, along her bare skin and rested his hand on her breast, cupping it, gently squeezing, her satin dress giving her little protection. Years ago it would have felt sexy and good; they’d have been fighting to remove each other’s clothes. Tonight it made Sophie’s skin crawl.
Think.
She tried again, slapping at his hand to push it away, shoving him, trying to escape, but she was wedging herself into a corner. He stayed on her like a leech.
“Simon, please, let me go.” She closed her eyes, making a silent prayer. Adam. “I don't want this.”
“Adam’s no good for you.” His lips crept from her neck round to her own lips. She felt rigid, too scared to move any further, his strength overpowering hers. “He‘s no man for you.”
Sophie slapped him across his face. “Fuck you, Simon,” she snapped. “Adam’s so much more than you’ll ever be.” She knew exactly what Adam was compared to this bastard.
“I very much want to fuck you, Sophie.” Simon laughed, grabbing her backside. She gasped as his pelvis rubbed against hers, feeling his arousal. She swallowed down the bile rising in her mouth. She shoved him, fought with him. As he leaned in to kiss her, she screwed her eyes shut, wincing, heart pounding and her throat tightening with fear. Her eyes welled wit
h tears.
She wanted Adam to save her, but this was her battle. She’d wanted not to draw attention to them.
But obviously the softly-softly approach wasn’t working.
With all the hate, revenge and anger flowing through her bloodstream, making her body tremble, she did the only thing she could think of; she stamped her heel onto his foot. Hard.
Simon instantly let go of her, yelling out in pain. “Ooww! Fuck! You bitch.”
Bastard.
She was so pleased she hadn’t slipped her shoes off – three inch heels were a killer.
“Leave me alone!” She saw his fury but now she stood firm. “How dare you? How dare you?” Anger raged through her now. She was finally going to say what she’d wanted to after all these years.
“You,” she jabbed him, “you were the one who ended it.”
“It was a mistake.”
Sophie slapped him. He grabbed her wrist, so she went for the other foot with her heel but he stepped back, releasing her.
She narrowed her eyes scornfully. “You hounded me until I said yes – which I did thinking it would shut you up. And, yes, we hit it off. We spent those precious months never apart. You made all those promises, but you couldn’t keep them, not even for a few weeks.” Sophie was on a roll. God, it felt good to get it off her chest. Simon was even withdrawing from her. “You called me frigid and cold. You bastard! Don’t go on about wanting me back.” She was shouting now, not caring who heard, her body trembling with the confrontation. “I’m over you. So fuck off!”
***
Adam hurried along the corridor hearing raised voices, and stopped, witnessing Sophie giving Simon hell. He wanted to grab hold of Simon and smack him into next year. What had the low-life done to cause her to react like this? But Sophie was fighting back and he had to admire the fire in her.
He desperately wanted to intervene, but he held back, realising Sophie needed to do this, to let out the emotion she’d carried inside her all this time. He’d be ready to help if needed.
Unfortunately, Simon saw Adam before Sophie did, so he had to get involved.
“Ah, look, Adam’s here to save the day. Get your woman under control.”
“You bastard,” she said, shoving Simon away. “I should be pressing charges for bloody assault!”
“Did he touch you?” Anger surged through Adam, realising this may have been more serious. His fists tightened. Maybe he should break the bastard’s nose.
“You fucking enjoyed it,” Simon bawled.
“I was repulsed.”
“Fucking frigid bitch.”
Adam launched at Simon, thrusting him against the wall, his fist clenched around Simon’s shirt, pushing into his windpipe.
“Adam! I don’t want any trouble,” Sophie said, shakily. “It’s Natalie and Gareth’s wedding.” She glared at Simon. “He’s trying to get the last word, that’s all. It’s what he’s like. Please let him go. It’s not like he hasn’t called me that before.”
Adam released his grip slightly, so Simon could breathe. “All right, you’ve heard Sophie. No trouble.” Then, fuelled by a wave of anger, Adam pushed again and venom laced his words, “But if I see you anywhere near my girl again, I swear, I’ll ruin you. You’ll have nothing left by the time I’m finished.”
“Adam, please … let him go.”
Adam did as asked, with a final shove. He wanted to be in Sophie’s good books. He was more sophisticated than a drunken brawl – unlike Simon. He needed to walk away. Adam slipped his arm around Sophie’s waist.
“You okay?” he asked, and she gently nodded, holding in her tears. He could feel her trembling as he pulled her close.
“Fuck you,” Simon shouted.
She’s right, Simon has to have the last word.
“You don’t like it, do you?” Adam said angrily, glaring at Simon. “You let her go. And now she’s returned, more beautiful, made something of herself, standing on her own two feet. She hasn’t crumbled at the sight of you. She’s too good for you, Simon.” And too good for me. “Let it go.”
Sophie scowled at Simon. “He doesn’t like it, because I’ve found a better man,” she said, and they walked away, leaving Simon mumbling some last words, but they weren’t interested – though Adam could quite easily have punched the guy.
"My girl?" Sophie said, looking questioningly at Adam.
With her arm linked through his, he could still feel her trembling. They walked towards the party, the music getting louder as they got closer. He gave her a squeeze and enjoyed having her close again.
“Well, I want to look like the over-protective jealous boyfriend type. He might get the message that way. Do you think it worked?" He acted relaxed, hiding his anger, trying to push Simon to the back of his mind. It wouldn't be good for Sophie to see him wound up; he needed to be a calming influence right now. And he didn’t like being angry in front of her. This was their last night; he wanted her to enjoy the evening.
She nervously smiled. She held out a hand - it still trembled. “Yeah, I think so. God, that was terrible.”
“Sophie.” Adam stopped their stride and turned her to face him, gently brushing her cheek with his thumb. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? Back there … you said assault.” Adam tried to control his angry thoughts of knocking his fist into Simon’s face.
“Uh … ” she shook her head. He could still feel her trembling and she tried holding in her tears. One trickled down her cheek and he wiped it away.
“You were fabulous back there … ” he said, wanting to give her some confidence back. Adam’s tone became serious again, dwelling on what she’d said. “But did he hurt you? Because I’ll go back and –”
“Don’t!” She wiped her face and composed herself. After a moment, taking a deep breath, she said, “He was just drunk, and for a moment I didn’t know what to do. I was trying not to make a scene.”
Sophie fumbled in her handbag and found a small bottle of perfume, which she sprayed around her neck. Adam frowned at her.
“He was all over me,” she said, and Adam’s jaw clenched. “I don’t want to smell of ale and slobber.” She shuddered.
Adam sniffed, then kissed her neck, pulling her closer into a hug. Not necessary but he couldn’t resist it, and Sophie didn’t complain. “You smell fine.”
As they approached the party, Sophie hesitated outside the door, pulling her hand out of Adam’s.
“Adam, I don’t know if I want to go back in there.”
“Nonsense. He’s not ruining your night. Besides, we haven’t got long to go.” Adam leaned in towards her, whispering into her ear, “Let’s finish the champagne and then we can head up to our room if you still feel uncomfortable.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
Adam slipped his hand around her waist and they walked back into the party.
Approaching their table, Sophie faltered. Zoe was sitting there. Sophie didn’t need this shit.
“Oh, good, you’re still here. And there was me worrying you’d leave,” Adam said, glowering at the woman.
“Ah, the lovebirds return,” Zoe replied sarcastically, ignoring his own sarcasm. Sophie’s hand tightened around Adam’s.
“You know, Simon is looking for a cheap date,” Adam said, taking off his jacket, placing it over the back of a chair. “Why don’t you go find him?”
Zoe laughed, but her expression sobered when she saw how deadly serious he was.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s dance,” Adam said, tugging Sophie’s hand, leading her towards the dance floor. He noticed her smug smile towards Zoe.
Once on the dance floor, Sophie placed her arms around his neck. The slower songs had begun, meaning the evening was coming to an end. Their weekend, too.
Van Morrison's 'Brown Eyed Girl' started playing. Adam looked at Sophie, and she rolled her eyes.
“My dad always used to sing this to me,” she said, blushing, chewing her lip.
Her brown eyes stared back at him. He’d never
taken much notice before; how dark they were. And yet, this weekend, he’d been staring into them all the time. He glanced around the room; Cassie winked at him. Zoe sat alone at a table, arms crossed, her keen eye still on them, scowling.
Well, let’s give her something to watch. Let’s give them all something to watch. He leaned in, his eyes never leaving Sophie's. Gently cupping her chin with his hand, he placed his lips onto hers and kissed her. Letting the music flood over them, drowning out everything else, he naturally inserted his tongue, caressing hers, exploring her exquisite mouth. He closed his eyes. Just Morrison, Sophie, and their kiss.
He knew it was a mixture of adrenalin and alcohol fuelling this moment, but he couldn’t help relish it. Kissing Sophie would never be a chore.
She pulled closer, tighter, running her hand through his hair, her bare arms wrapping around his neck as they danced, circling slowly to the music, around and around as they kissed. Adam lowered his arm to the small of her back, and drew her as close as two people could get with their clothes on. It felt fantastic. He held her tight in his arms, hoping she'd forget Simon's assault.
It was a gorgeous kiss; a kiss that could lead to further things. He wanted to guide her to their room right now.
Reluctantly he withdrew, Van Morrison still singing about his brown-eyed girl. But he kept his mouth on hers. He could feel her lips move into a smile. He grinned too, breaking the kiss, opening his eyes, but keeping his hold, keeping her close. She looked up at him, her body resting against his, arms still around his neck. She nervously chewed her bottom lip.
“Are you supposed to be enjoying this?” she spoke softly, still swaying gently with the music.
“I always enjoy kissing a beautiful woman.”
“Oh, behave,” she retorted sarcastically.
He pulled her close again, and she rested her head against his chest as they continued to dance slowly in time with the music. She felt so natural in his arms.
Cassie came twirling around them, dragging another poor, unsuspecting victim with her. Some other love song was now playing in the background and even more couples crowded the dance floor.
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