He had been going through the motions all this time. His dates, his easy flings... Plenty of them, but all a simple good time means to an end. The cost of that had been the detached quality about them that meant pleasure had failed to touch him below the physical surface. The combination of his visceral hot need for Emma, his delight at her eagerness to please him and his own desire to please her took him way beyond that level. There was nothing run of the mill about this.
The thought crept through his mind, tinged with fear at the deeper meaning of it, but he moved on regardless, powerless to stop.
He lifted her, his hands sliding across the cool satiny skin of her lower back, the sweet vanilla scent of her hair dizzying his senses, and crushed his mouth hard against hers. His desire for her was rising inside him like a cresting wave, driving him forward. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her the few paces from desk to four-poster and eased her down gently onto the softness of the quilted bedspread.
And now he moved with intimate slowness, the better to savour every second, to explore. She slid gentle hands over his back and sparks of arousal jumped and flickered in his abdomen as her fingers found his hard length and stroked with deliciously maddening softness. A guttural moan escaped his lips as he tangled a hand in the silk of her hair and crushed his mouth against hers, easing her lips apart with his tongue.
Before he could be consumed by the deliciousness of it he caught her hand and moved away briefly to find a condom. And then control was his again as he moved against her, and her gasp thrilled him as he eased slowly into her. As she raised her hips with a soft moan, urging him on, sliding her hands around him to push him deeper into her, greedy for more, his spirits soared. And only as she clutched at his back and cried her pleasure against his neck did he finally let himself follow her over that delicious edge.
* * *
Bewildering déjà vu kicked in as Emma woke to birdsong and sunshine for the second time in a weekend. And then all thoughts of her surroundings disappeared as she came fully awake in one crushing instant of consciousness. She turned her head slowly on the pillow.
Not a hallucination brought on by wedding stress and too much champagne.
Dan was in the bed next to her. And they’d spent the night exploring every inch of one another. Hell, her cheeks fired just at the thought of what they’d done and she pressed her face against the cool top sheet. Had that really been her? Super-cool, professional Emma? Brazen—that was what she was.
His dark hair was dishevelled even beyond its usual spikes by action and sleep, and there was a light shadow of stubble now defining his jaw. She lifted a hand to her dry mouth as her gaze ranged down the defined muscles of his torso to the sheet that lay haphazardly over his hips. He was the stuff of dreams.
But the cold light of day was streaming in right through that window. She’d joined the ranks of Dan’s little-black-book girls. How long did he usually leave it before he did his backing off? A day? Two?
She held her breath and without sitting up began wriggling inch by slow inch towards the edge of the bed, not really thinking much further at this point than getting some clothes on. They might have spent half the night screwing, but that didn’t mean he’d have the chance to ogle her cellulite in daylight.
She was right on the edge of the bed and just thinking about how to manoeuvre her feet onto the floor when he took a deep, relaxed breath and opened his eyes.
She froze like a rabbit in headlights.
‘You look surprised,’ he said, stretching easily.
He gave her that slow, laconic grin that never failed to make her stomach do flip-flops. Clearly she had the look of a rabbit in headlights, too.
‘Is it such a disappointment to wake up next to me?’
She clutched the top of the sheet a modest few inches above nipple height and tried to move her bum cheeks back fully onto the bed so he wouldn’t realise she’d been trying to make an exit.
‘I wasn’t sure I would,’ she said. ‘I half expected you to make a swift exit under cover of darkness. Didn’t you tell me that was your usual modus operandi? Not to make it through to breakfast?’
He pulled himself up onto one elbow and smiled down at her. The benefit of having hair that naturally spiked was that he actually looked better first thing in the morning. How typical. She could just imagine the fright wig on her own head after the active night they’d spent.
‘Emma, nothing about this is my usual modus operandi.’
His blue eyes held her own and her stomach gave a slow and toe-curling flip as the delectable things he’d done to her last night danced through her mind. He reached a hand out to stroke her cheek softly and a surge of happiness began to bubble through her. He was right. None of this fitted with him acting to type. Yet still it was hard to let herself trust him.
‘I know you too well,’ she said. ‘That’s the thing. None of your usual lines will work on me.’
‘I wasn’t aware I’d used any,’ he said.
He had a point. He’d bailed her brother out, he hadn’t washed his hands of her and disappeared to London after she’d called him selfish, he’d carried himself brilliantly through her brother’s crazy wedding and he was still here at breakfast time. She let her guard slip.
* * *
Self-doubt. Any other reaction from her would be a surprise, wouldn’t it?
Just looking at her lying next to him, all long limbs and messy hair and uncertainty, made heat begin to simmer again deep inside him. The night they’d spent replayed in his mind on a loop—the way she’d slowly put her trust in him, shedding her inhibitions, giving as much as taking. He wanted to smooth every kink of doubt out of her, convince her that this was far more than the throwaway night she clearly thought it might be.
He reached across and pulled her into his arms, fitting her long, slender body against his own, breathing in the faint sweet vanilla scent that still clung to her hair. His mouth found hers and he parted her lips hungrily with his tongue and kissed her deeply.
* * *
Desire rippled through her, peaking at her nipples and pooling between her legs as he gently turned her over, his mouth at her shoulder.
In her dreams of all those months ago he had been skilled. In reality he was melt-to-the-floor perfect. How did he know how to make her feel that sublime? Where to touch her? How hard to stroke? How softly to caress?
He lay behind her now, her pleasure his sole focus. One hand was circling her waist, his fingers easing slowly between her thighs, softly parting them to expose the core of her. She felt his moan of satisfaction against her neck as he discovered how wet she was. His thumb found her most sensitive spot and circled it with tantalising slowness. His fingers slid lower, teasing until she ached with emptiness and desire.
And then he was turning her expertly, one hand pressed flat beneath her stomach, the other cradling her breasts as he moved behind her. A moment of delicious anticipation as he paused to grab a condom, then she felt him press against her. And then he was thrusting smoothly deep inside her, filling her deliciously, his free hand teasing her nipples to rock-hard points, his mouth at her neck. As she cried out in uncontrolled pleasure he moaned his own ecstasy against the smooth contours of her back, not slowing or changing pace until he knew she was satisfied.
Afterwards, she lay in his arms, the warm length of his torso against her back, his soft breath against her hair. His hand circled her body, lightly cupping her breast, caressing it. They fitted together perfectly, as if they were meant to be together. For the first time she let herself tentatively believe that they might be. He’d made love to her again instead of making a sharp exit. He was still here with her. Yet still there were things that needed to be said.
‘I didn’t say thank you, did I?’ she said softly. When he didn’t answer she turned her head slightly, to catch his expression at
her shoulder. ‘For restoring Adam’s shadow for me.’
She felt him tense briefly, then he tugged gently at her shoulder until she turned over in his arms and lay facing him. His mouth was inches from her own and his gaze was holding hers steadily.
He looked at her resigned expression and mentally kicked himself.
‘I didn’t mean that,’ he said. ‘It was a crappy thing to say. I know how difficult your family can be.’ He paused as if groping for the right words. ‘It wasn’t a personal dig at you. It was more about reacting to your telling me where to get off.’
‘You always have to have the last word,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve noticed that about you. Why is that? Why is it so hard for you to accept anyone else’s agenda? People do have them, you know—it’s not just you living in a bubble.’
Was that how she really saw him? Was he really that blind to other people’s feelings?
‘It wasn’t intentional,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry if it seemed that way to you. It was...’ He groped for a way to explain that wouldn’t sound totally crap. ‘I like staying in control,’ he said at last. ‘Being the one that makes all the decisions. Perhaps it’s become a bit of a habit.’ He paused and added, ‘A defence mechanism.’
The same one he’d used so successfully since childhood.
‘If the only person you look out for is yourself, you can’t be hurt.’
‘I don’t understand.’
He looked at the ceiling, at the blank white expanse of it.
‘There was someone once,’ he said. ‘I’m not talking about one of the girls I see now. They’re just dates. Nothing more to it than that. There was someone else a long time ago.’
He didn’t look at her. It felt easier, not doing that.
‘Maggie and I were housemates at college,’ he said. ‘There were six of us. Couple of girls, four blokes, each of us renting a room and sharing a kitchen and bathroom. You know the kind of thing. Student accommodation. For the first time I was living away from home.’
He remembered how liberating it had felt that his life was finally his own. An escape route.
‘We were friends, Maggie and me, then one night after a party we ended up sleeping together. We kept it really casual, though. Both of us had big career plans. She was training to be a teacher. Primary school kids, you know?’
He glanced at Emma and she nodded acknowledgment, not interrupting. That was a good thing. If he stopped talking about this now he might never start again.
‘And she lived up north, had a big family there, and she was going to be moving back once she’d finished her course. It wasn’t serious. It was never going to be serious.’ He laughed. ‘Hell, I’d just got away from home life, finally tasted a bit of freedom. I wasn’t about to get myself tied down to someone before I’d even finished my first year.’
She looked puzzled.
‘But you did? You must have for her to have made such a big impact on you. What happened?’
He paused, gathering his thoughts. Who had he told about the baby? Anyone at all? He stormed ahead before he could think twice.
‘Maggie got pregnant,’ he said simply.
He felt the change in her posture as she shifted in his arms. She lifted herself on one elbow to look at him. He steeled himself to glance at her and read the response in her face, ready for the questions that he was sure would follow.
She said nothing. Her eyes were filled with gentleness but she didn’t speak, didn’t pry. She was letting him talk on his own terms.
‘And that changed everything,’ he said.
He took a sharp breath as he recalled the memory. It came back to him easily, in such perfect clarity that it made a mockery of his conviction that he’d done such a great job of putting it behind him.
‘At first I was horrified. I thought it was the last thing I could possibly want. Maggie had strong views. She was going to keep the baby whether I was involved or not.’ He sighed. ‘She made it sound like she was offering me my freedom, but looking back I think to her I was dispensable even at the outset.’
‘And were you? Involved, I mean?’
He could see the puzzlement in her eyes. She was wondering if he had a secret family stashed away somewhere.
‘Once I got used to the shock I was more and more delighted. The longer it went on the more I bought into it. With every day that passed I had a clearer idea of what the future would be like. I was going to be the best bloody husband and father the world had ever seen.’
‘You’ve been married?’
He gave a rueful smile and shook his head.
‘It was my one and only brush with it, but, no, it never happened. I wanted it to be as different to my experience of family as I could make it. Proper commitment, hands-on parents with a strong, healthy relationship.’ He paused. ‘I probably envisaged a white picket fence somewhere. And a dog. Sunday roasts. All the stereotypes. I was right in there with them.’ He took a breath. ‘And then it all disappeared overnight because we lost the baby.’
The wrenching, churning ache deep in his chest made a suffocating comeback. Dulled a little at the edges over time, like an old wound, but still there, still heavy.
She was sitting up now, reaching for his hands, her eyes filled with sadness.
‘Oh, bloody hell, Dan. I’m so sorry.’
He waved a dismissive hand at her, shaking his head, swallowing hard to rid his throat of the aching constriction.
‘It was a long time ago,’ he said.
In terms of years, at least.
‘I’m over it.’
‘I never imagined you being remotely interested in kids or family,’ she said. ‘I mean, it isn’t just the way you keep your relationships so short or the fact you never see your own parents. You’re the most un-child-friendly person I’ve ever known. You have a penthouse flat with a balcony and it’s full of glass furniture and white upholstery. Your car is a two-seater.’
‘Why would I need a family home or a Volvo?’ he said. ‘I have absolutely no intention of going down that road again. I gave it my best shot and it didn’t work out.’
A worried frown played about her face and he gave her a reassuring I’m-over-it smile.
‘That’s why I didn’t step straight up to the plate when Adam needed a helping hand. That’s why I made it into the car before I realised I couldn’t leave for London. I was trying to play things the way I always do. I don’t get involved with people. I like keeping things simple.’
‘At arm’s length.’
‘Exactly. Arm’s length. After Maggie I decided relationships weren’t for me. Family wasn’t for me. I threw myself into work instead. After all, it had always worked at digging me out in the past. And it worked again.’ He shrugged. ‘But maybe it’s become a bit of a habit. I never wanted to come across as selfish or unkind when I said you liked your comfort zone. It was a retaliation, nothing more.’
He pulled her back down from her elbow into a cuddle. Her head nestled beneath his chin. She shook her head slowly against his chest.
‘Maybe it was just a retaliation but actually you might have had a point,’ she said quietly.
He pulled away enough to give her a questioning look and she offered him a tiny smile.
‘A small point,’ she qualified. ‘Did you ever know I had a crush on you for months, like some stupid schoolgirl?’
That flash of clarity kicked in again, the same as he’d felt the night before, as if something he wasn’t seeing had been pointed out to him. A wood instead of a mass of trees, maybe.
‘You did?’
‘Why am I not surprised that you never noticed?’ She sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘I think maybe part of the reason I was so struck on you was because of what you’re like. I knew you’d never look twice at me. I didn’t fit your remit.’
She snuggled into his arm. ‘Blonde, bubbly, curvaceous. That’s your type.’
‘Dispensable, simplistic, inconsequential,’ he said. ‘Those were the real qualities I was aiming for. None of which apply to you.’
‘That’s exactly my point. I got to know you over months, I saw the kind of girls you went for and I knew none of your relationships lasted. I knew you’d never be interested in me and that made dreaming about the prospect from afar a very nice, safe thing to do.’
She held a hand up as if it was all suddenly clear to her.
‘Plus it was a great reason not to get involved with anyone else, and it gave me the perfect way to fob off criticism from my parents when they asked about my life. So there you are, you see. When you said I was happy living in Adam’s shadow, staying under my parents’ radar, you kind of had a point. My choices were all about keeping an easy life.’
‘You must have hidden it well,’ he said, scanning his mind back over the last twelve months. Little signs jumped out at him now that he had that hindsight—the way she’d always been available for any work engagement, no matter how short the notice, the effort she’d always made with her appearance. He’d assumed those were things she did for everyone. Because that was what he’d wanted to assume. The alternative hadn’t been allowed on his radar.
‘Then again, I’m not sure I would have noticed unless you’d smashed me over the head with it,’ he conceded. ‘I had you filed very comfortably under “Work Colleague”. That was what I needed you to be. I never intended things between us to be more than that.’
‘Our plus-one agreement.’
He didn’t respond, although the ensuing silence was heavy with the unspoken question. What would happen now with their ludicrous arrangement? He’d told her it would be over when they got this weekend out of the way and went back to their London lives. With every moment he spent with her, sticking to that decision and riding it out felt more and more difficult.
The Plus-One Agreement Page 13