‘No, I’m fine, but you can take the food away.’ He closed his eyes as if signing out for the night. ‘I’m not hungry.’
Kat hovered at the end of his bed. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
He opened one twinkling eye. ‘A goodnight kiss wouldn’t go astray.’
Her lips hadn’t stopped tingling from the last one. She wasn’t game to do a repeat. Her self-control was on a precarious knife-edge as it was. ‘You don’t give up easily, do you?’
His smile was one of those lazy, spine-melting ones. The ones that made her want to dive headfirst into his bed and crawl into his skin. ‘We want the same thing,’ he said. ‘Sex without complications.’
‘Sex is always complicated.’
‘Maybe you haven’t had the right partner.’
Kat put her hands on her hips. ‘So you think you are?’
His eyes kindled. ‘I’m damn sure of it.’
She tried to ignore the pulse of lust that throbbed in her core. Throbbed and ached. ‘How can you be so confident?’
His eyes moved over her flushed features, lingering the longest on her mouth. ‘One kiss told me all I needed to know. That’s why you won’t do it again, because you’re frightened you won’t be able to control yourself.’
‘Really? Is that what you think?’
‘Come here and prove me wrong.’
Kat knew she should resist his challenge but she wanted to prove it to herself as well as him. She would show him she could press her lips to his and feel nothing. No fireworks. No shooting stars. No fireballs of lust ripping through her body.
She stood next to him and lowered her mouth to his smiling one. It was the only point of contact, lips on lips. But he didn’t respond. He didn’t do anything to prolong the kiss. In fact, he didn’t do anything but lie there like a mummified body.
Wasn’t he feeling anything?
Anything at all?
She pressed her lips back down again, moving them against the firm warmth of his in a slow-moving caress. She couldn’t remember a time when she had kissed a man with such concentrated intensity. It was as though all the nerve endings in her body had gathered in her lips, heightening their sensitivity. She sent out the tip of her tongue to trace the seam of his mouth, the touch slow, sensual and soft. She did it again, once, twice, and then the third time he gave a swift intake of breath and took control of the kiss. His arms came around her, bringing her down on the bed beside him, his mouth clamped to hers in a searing kiss, their tongues teasing and tangling, their lips sliding and sucking, their teeth nipping and tugging. She felt the full force of his arousal against her thigh, the potent power of it triggering her own intimate moisture.
He rolled her so she was half under him, his mouth still pressed hotly to hers. She swallowed a gasp as he slid one of his hands across her breast in a light skating touch that left her aching for more. She stroked his hair, his face, his back and shoulders as he plundered her mouth, inciting her desire to a level she had not thought possible. Never had desire rushed through her at such a breakneck pace. It was as if a drug had invaded her system, powering her up to do things she normally would never dream of doing. She reached for his belt and unhooked it, then went for his zipper. She wanted to feel the throb of him in her hand, to feel the desire he felt for her skin-on-skin.
He made a guttural sound when she got his zipper down, responded by slipping a warm, dry hand up under her sweater to cup her breast. Even though she was still wearing a bra her senses went wild. Off-the-scale wild. Scarily out-of-control wild. The promise of more was there in his hand as he cradled her. It was there in the roll of his thumb over her lace-covered nipple, making it go pebble-hard.
He left her mouth to bring his down to her breast, sucking on her through the lace, then when she thought she could stand it no longer he deftly unhooked her bra and drew on her with his warm, moist, tantalising mouth.
Kat reached for him with desperate fingers, peeling back the fabric of his underwear to access the satin-covered steel of his flesh. He made another deep sound of approval as she explored his length, concentrating on the blunt tip where his pre-ejaculate fluid had gathered.
His mouth left her breast to concentrate on the other one, subjecting it to the same delicious torture until she was writhing with longing beneath him. Such swift arousal was unusual for her. She wasn’t used to her body aching with such urgent pressing need, as if she would die if he didn’t follow through and complete their union. She could feel her clitoris stirring, swelling and aching for contact, for friction. The frustration of being so close and yet not close enough was making her resolve melt like a sugar cube dropped in a pot of hot tea.
Who cared about the stupid celibacy pact?
She wanted him. She wanted him with every cell in her body. She wanted the release his kiss hinted at, the release his hard body promised.
Flynn’s mouth came back to hers in another passionate onslaught that made her senses sing like a choral symphony. A thousand-member choral symphony. But just when she thought he would take it to the next level he drew back, breathing heavily but still in control. ‘As much as I’d like to finish this, I’m going to call a halt.’
Kat called on every bit of acting expertise she possessed to look cool and composed when inside she was screaming, Don’t stop now! ‘Because you think I wasn’t going to?’
He brushed a strand of hair off her face, his eyes holding hers in a lock that made her insides wobble like a jelly near a jackhammer. ‘It’s something else, isn’t it? This thing we have going on.’
Kat edged out from under him and put some order to her clothes. ‘There’s no thing going on. We kissed and fooled around a bit, that’s all.’
‘I want you, Kat, but I’m prepared to wait until you’re willing to admit you want me too. We do this as equals or not at all. Your choice.’
‘What is it you want?’ Kat said. ‘A fling? A future? A one-off? Or is this just a ploy to butter me up so I agree to meet my father?’
‘This is about us.’ The deep, coming-from-beneath-the-floorboards pitch of his voice made her insides shiver. ‘It’s been about us from the first moment we met. That’s why you were about to rip my clothes off just then and have your wicked way with me.’
Kat kept her gaze away from his unzipped trousers but it took a mammoth effort. Two mammoths and a couple of weightlifters thrown in. ‘I have to go. I’ll see you in the morning when I take Cricket out.’
‘Do you want to meet for lunch tomorrow? I have a space between clients between one and two.’
‘I’m working.’
‘Then I’ll have lunch at the café with you. You get a lunch break, don’t you?’
‘I’m not working at the café tomorrow,’ Kat said. ‘I have...an audition.’
Interest sharpened his gaze. ‘What for?’
‘Just a pantomime thing.’
‘If you reached out to your father you’d be able to—’
‘I do not need his help to get a job,’ Kat said. ‘If I can’t get it on my own merit then I’ll quit altogether.’
‘Acting is in your blood,’ Flynn said. ‘You won’t be happy unless you achieve what you’ve set out to achieve.’
Kat raised one of her brows. ‘That sounds more like a description of you rather than me.’
‘It’s a description of both of us,’ he said. ‘Good luck tomorrow.’ He gave her a wink. ‘Break a leg. Or should I say, foot?’
* * *
Kat was on her way to the audition when she got a call from her friend Maddie. She was going to ignore it but she had already been a bit slack at responding to a couple of texts, which she knew would make her friend suspicious. ‘Hi, Maddie.’ She injected brightness into her tone. ‘I’ve been meaning to call. Just been crazily busy, you know how it—’
‘Wha
t’s this I hear about you living next door to Flynn Carlyon?’ Maddie said.
‘Where did you hear that?’
‘There’s a photo of you on Twitter. You two are trending.’
‘It’s not what you think—’
‘Have you broken the pact?’ Maddie ’s voice had a note of suspicion. A whole stave of suspicion.
‘No-o-o-o.’ Kat strung her answer out like she was stretching a piece of string. Or the truth.
‘Have you kissed him?’
‘I...erm...he kissed me.’
‘Did you respond?’
What a question. What choice had she had? It had been the best kiss she’d ever experienced. Everything in her had responded—every cell, every pore, every atom. Every kiss henceforth would be measured against Flynn’s searing sensuality and found lacking. ‘I didn’t let it go too far,’ Kat said.
He didn’t let it go too far—not you.
I would have stopped eventually.
Like when? After he’d given you the big O?
‘How far?’ Maddie said.
Far enough to want more. Far enough for Kat’s body to be aching with the need to feel his arms around her, his mouth pressed to hers, his hard body doing all the things to hers she craved. Like the big O. ‘Where was the photo taken?’ she asked.
‘Aha! Diversionary tactics. You are so going to lose this bet.’
‘Kissing is allowed,’ Kat said. ‘We agreed on that.’
‘There’s kissing and there’s kissing,’ Maddie said. ‘Which side does Flynn fall on?’
‘You don’t want to know.’
Maddie laughed. ‘I knew you’d be the first to break. You just can’t help yourself, can you? A handsome man takes a shine to you and you fall madly in love.’
‘I’m not in love with Flynn Carlyon,’ Kat said. ‘I just have a body-crush on him.’
‘He is rather gorgeous,’ Maddie said. ‘Even on crutches.’
‘You’ve seen him on crutches?’
‘That’s the photo on Twitter I was telling you about,’ Maddie said. ‘You were standing outside his house with him with the snow falling down around you with a weird little dog at your feet. It looked like a shot for a Hollywood romantic comedy.’
There was nothing comedic about their relationship. It was turning into high drama. How could she possibly avoid the temptation of him when she was forced to spend time with him? Time she looked forward to in spite of her misgivings about him and his connection with her father. ‘I ran over his foot.’
‘On purpose?’
‘By accident. You know what I’m like at reverse parking,’ Kat said. ‘He was standing behind the car and—never mind. It’s a long story. I’m helping him walk his dog and run errands for him while he’s out of action.’
‘Ah, but is he out of action in the bedroom?’ There was a teasing lilt in Maddie ’s voice. ‘I can’t see a pair of crutches getting in the way of what Flynn Carlyon wants.’
‘What about you?’ Kat was desperate to steer the conversation away from her nemesis. ‘Have you fallen off the wagon?’
‘No,’ Maddie said. ‘Not even tempted by anyone.’
‘Sure?’
There was a tiny silence.
‘Well, I do have to visit my great-grandfather this weekend for his birthday and you know who will be there.’
‘Why will Byron be there?’ Kat asked. ‘You guys broke up months ago.’
‘I know, but Gramps’s dementia has worsened since his stroke,’ Maddie said. ‘He thinks we’re still together and Mum thinks it will stress him out if we tell him any different. It’s just a weekend. I can handle that. Anyway, good luck with the audition. Call me as soon as you hear, okay? And remember—I knew you before you were famous.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
KAT WAS THE last person to audition, which meant by the time her name was called her stomach had grown teeth and they were gnawing all the way to her backbone. The director asked her to take position, but instead of feeling the buzz of being onstage she felt sick. What if she blew it? What if she made an idiot of herself? Who was she kidding? She was an amateur. She hadn’t been to a performing arts school. She had rehearsed in front of a mirror, not an acting coach. All she was good for was toilet-paper ads. She was rubbish at acting.
She was rubbish, period.
‘Ready when you are, Miss McTaggart.’
It took Kat a moment to realise the director was speaking to her. She had used her grandparents’ surname instead of her own. ‘Erm...right.’ She stepped into position. The contents of her stomach curdled and began to crawl towards her windpipe. Sweat broke out on her brow. Her throat felt like someone had put a choke collar around it. A studded one, around the wrong way. The stage lights were making her eyes water. Or maybe it was because she felt ridiculously out of her depth. The spotlight was focused on her but she felt like it was shining on all of her faults. The irregularities of her features, the figure she wished was fuller in some places and more toned in others. The hair she hadn’t had time or money to have professionally styled. The supermarket brand of make-up she’d used instead of a designer brand.
The stalls were in darkness but Kat noticed a woman sitting at the back of the theatre. The woman was dressed in nondescript clothes but she had an aura about her that suggested she wasn’t one of the theatre or ancillary staff. She looked vaguely familiar but because the lights were off in the stalls it was hard to make out any distinguishing features.
‘Is there a problem, Miss McTaggart?’ The director’s voice contained a thread of impatience. A steel-cable thread.
‘Sorry.’ Kat wriggled her shoulders to shake off the tension. ‘I’m just getting into character.’
‘Would you like a bone to chew on?’ the woman at the back of the theatre asked in a tone dripping with sarcasm. Not dripping—flooding.
Kat bristled like a cat, which wasn’t all that helpful, given she was supposed to be a dog. She took a deep breath and channelled her angst at the woman into her performance, using it to galvanise her into the performance of her life. She became Sylvia. She used every bit of Cricket’s quirkiness she had born witness to: his pleading looks, his energy, his over-the-top excitement and his frantic rear-end wagging and wriggling. She felt so authentic in the scene she wished she had a tail when it was over so she could wag it.
‘Thanks, Kathy,’ the director said. ‘I’ll let you know what we decide in a day or two.’
The woman at the back of the theatre rose from the chair she was sitting on. ‘I’ve already decided,’ she said in an accent that this time Kat recognised as none other than Elisabetta Albertini’s. ‘I want her. She was by far the best.’
Kat’s eyes widened as Elisabetta came out of the low light of the stalls towards the stage. Her dream felt like it was balanced on a high wire without a safety net. As soon as Elisabetta recognised her it would plummet to the cold, hard floor of reality. There was no way Elisabetta would want to star alongside her husband’s love child. No way in the world. It wouldn’t matter how brilliant a job she had done of the audition. It would be better to get in first to save everyone from embarrassment. ‘Erm...my name isn’t really Kathy McTaggart,’ she said. ‘My name is—’
‘Katherine Winwood,’ Elisabetta said. ‘Yes, I know.’
Kat fought hard not to be intimated by that cold, dark-brown, assessing stare. Was Elisabetta searching for her husband in Kat’s features? As much as Kat knew it must be galling for Elisabetta to face the living, breathing evidence of her husband’s betrayal, she still wished she could be accepted at face value, for herself, not for the trouble she had inadvertently caused. ‘I really want the part but if you’d rather not work with me then—’
‘Didn’t you just hear me say I wanted you?’ Elisabetta gave an imperious arch of her brow.
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‘Yes, but I thought since—’
‘I want you in that part,’ Elisabetta said. ‘Fix it, will you, Leon?’ she said to the director. She turned back to Kat. ‘Rehearsals start on Monday. Be on time.’
Kat had trouble keeping her jaw off the floor as Elisabetta walked out with regal poise. Had that just happened? Had Elisabetta Albertini just insisted she get the part?
But why?
Was it because of her talent or was this some sort of publicity stunt? She hadn’t shown a skerrick of talent until Elisabetta had insulted her. How could she know for sure what Elisabetta’s motivations were? What if Elisabetta wanted to sabotage her career? What better way to get back at her husband Richard than by publicly humiliating his love child onstage?
‘Looks like you got the part,’ Leon said. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thanks.’ Kat mentally chewed at her lip. What if this was not about her acting merit? What if this was all about revenge? Wasn’t it the director’s or casting agent’s decision as to who got the part? Or had Elisabetta insisted on choosing whom she would front up with onstage? She had a reputation as a diva. And she certainly had the star power to call the shots. No one would ever employ Kat again if this turned out to be a stitch-up.
Why had Elisabetta chosen her other than to use it as an opportunity to get back at her?
The self-doubts sat like anvils on her shoulders. Her dream of being onstage was turning into a nightmare. The whole world would watch Elisabetta cut her down. It was risky but the determined streak in Kat’s personality thrived on the chance to prove to Elisabetta and to everybody she was made of stronger mettle. She would not be rattled or thrown off her game by a vindictive attempt to ruin her one chance at stardom.
‘Ruby the costume designer will measure you in Dressing Room B,’ Leon said. ‘I’ll email the contract to your agent.’
* * *
Flynn was sitting on his sofa with his foot up after work, reading through a client’s brief, when he got a call from Jake Ravensdale. ‘Jaz tells me you’re done like a dinner over Kat Winwood,’ Jake said. ‘Want to double up at my stag night? Half the cost, twice the fun.’
The Most Scandalous Ravensdale (The Ravensdale Scandals) Page 10