Becca rummaged around her bag and held out the device.
‘You must think I’m pitiful.’
Margo shook her head as she slid a pair of designer glasses on her nose and looked at her over the rim.
‘Not at all. These are designed by men, darling, which means they never keep it simple. Once you get your head around it, you’ll be fine.’
Margo had printed off a screenshot of the keyboard. She ran through it and made everything look simple enough. When the device lit up, there was an email from Lucas and Margo had already keyed in contact numbers. Becca pressed the envelope icon with an alert on it.
Up popped the message.
From: Lucas Del Garda
Subject: Blackberry & Blackmail
12:30GMT
To: Becca Wainwright
Hi Becca
Hope this finds you well. If you reply Margo will get a bonus this month.
How are you?
Lucas Del Garda
CEO Del Garda Enterprises
Becca grinned and hit reply.
To: Lucas Del Garda
Subject: The Blackberry from Hell
16:45GMT
From: Becca Wainwright
Hi Lucas
Thank you for the phone from Hell. I am fine. Margo deserves a bonus simply for working for you.
Becca
She pressed send and even though her heart was in her mouth she couldn’t help but respond to the other woman’s big grin.
‘You look as if it’s going to detonate in your hand,’ Margo observed. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’
Becca nodded and gave her a wide eyed look. ‘Where did you get those boots?’
Looking thrilled, Margo whispered the designer name in her ear.
When the phone pinged with a reply Becca nearly jumped out of her skin as it vibrated in her hand
Margo stood to leave and Becca stood too.
They hugged and Margo gave her a maternal pat on the back.
‘Enjoy. Any problems give me a ring. It’s been lovely to meet you.’
‘It’s been lovely meeting you too,’ Becca told her sincerely and watched her as she left.
Making herself comfortable with another latte, she opened another message from Lucas.
To: Becca Wainwright
Subject: I am a wonderful boss!
16:52GMT
From: Lucas Del Garda
Are you sure you are okay? Margo will certainly get a bonus. She adores me. Have you forgiven me?
Lucas Del Garda
Anxious CEO Del Garda Enterprises
Becca bit her lip, feeling for him as her conscience pricked. She hit reply.
To: Lucas Del Garda
Subject: Worry Wort and Big Ego
17:02GMT
From: Becca Wainwright
Lucas,
I’m fine, stop worrying. Sheesh. We were both at fault and got carried away. You need to do something about that humongously BIG EGO.
Becca
She’d just started to sip her coffee when another message pinged into her box.
To: Becca Wainwright
Subject: Big words
17:12 GMT
From: Lucas Del Garda wondering what he’s done now
Becca,
Are you SHOUTING at me already? Play nice. Thanks to you my ego is a pale and pathetic shadow of its former self. Humongously? Seriously?
Lucas Del Garda
On his knees CEO Del Garda Enterprises
She barked out a laugh. On his knees? That’ll be the day! She hit reply.
To: Lucas Del Garda
Subject: I am being nice.
17:23GMT
From: Becca Wainwright
Don’t you have work to do? Worlds to conquer? Flights to catch? And if you’re on your knees I’m a Domestic Goddess (which I most definitely am not.)
Go away and do Business Mogul stuff.
Becca
She had every intention of ignoring further messages from him. This was ridiculous. Give the man an inch and he took your arm. Her phone pinged and she stared at it for a whole ten seconds before she gave in.
To: Becca Wainwright
Subject: My Goddess
17.35GMT
From: Lucas Del Garda
You are a Goddess. I miss you, querida. Yes, I have work to do. I can multi-task. I do not want to rush you but when can I see you?
Lucas Del Garda
Pining CEO Del Garda Enterprise
See! She just knew it. She should have refused his bloody Blackberry. His plan was to soften her up and then strike. Pining? In a pig’s eye. She hit reply.
To: Lucas Del Garda, chancer
Subject: Go Away
17.55GMT
From: Getting Annoyed Now, Becca Wainwright
What is the matter with you? I’ve asked for space and time. Is this giving me space and time? No, it is not. Go Away. I’m turning this thing off. You are driving me crazy.
Becca
She turned the phone off and tucked it in her bag and tried to drink her now lukewarm coffee. Honestly, the man had the cheek of the devil. But she’d had fun with him. Who knew he’d have a highly developed sense of humour? She wondered what he was doing and then firmly told herself to get a grip, to go home and get ready for her night out.
As she left a tip for the waiter, Becca was honest enough to admit that she’d much rather be cuddling up to Lucas in that humongously large bed of his.
But her instincts told her that that wouldn’t be enough for him and it wouldn’t be fair to lead him down a path that could never be. And she wondered why those sensible and logical thoughts made her feel so terribly lonely and bereft.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When they stepped out of the taxi, Justin took her hand as flashbulbs burst around them and they entered The Blue Lagoon.
Becca kept her eyes on his back, trying not to think about her last visit to the club and her nights with Lucas or the fact that she’d almost given in and opened her Blackberry to respond to him at least ten times.
No matter what Lucas and Margo said the rumours in the press about Lucas and Willow continued to be drip-fed to the public. This was another reason she had no place in his life. The tabloids haunted him.
It was just as well she told herself yet again, there was no way she could cope with the intense media scrutiny that would accompany a relationship with him. She must have been crazy to even consider having him in her life and even crazier to have indulged in a couple of nights of passion. If the tabloids ever got hold of that juicy morsel, they’d chew her up and spit her out.
Lucas Del Garda was a successful and busy man and she had no place in his life.
Two hours later Becca finally relaxed, enjoying the good natured ribbing with the dancers and Justin.
And her headache had subsided into a dull throb.
Justin took her soft drink from her hand, placed it on the bar and dragged her protesting onto the dance floor.
The music changed to a deep bass booming in a sinuous rhythm.
Hot and sexy the beat filled the room with a dark carnal lust that brought back vivid memories of her nights with Lucas.
Pressing his hips into hers Justin rocked his pelvis back and forth and she grinned up into his face. Their party all clapped and whooped around them to make a wide circle.
She might be shy in the real world but in the world of dance Becca had absolutely no inhibitions. After years together they knew each other’s bodies intimately. The routine they segued into now was seductive and suggestive.
Justin swept his hands up her naked thighs, sliding the hem of her short dress further up, edging her hips.
And Becca let herself go.
Heart hammering in his throat, Lucas stood in the shadows of The Blue Lagoon with his hand fisted around a bottle of designer beer.
He was having trouble believing the scene unfolding in front of his eyes. Who’d have thought that shy Becca Wainwright would
have it in her to be the centre of attention? The crowd on the dance floor spread out in a huge circle to give Becca and her partner space to dance. Dance? More like shagging on the dance floor.
The good-looking bastard had his hands on her ass now and Lucas gripped the bottle even tighter. The guy looked as if he’d stepped out of an action movie and he was the hero. He was tall and built like a gladiator, all lean muscle with the natural grace of an athlete. And Lucas, never a violent man, usually, hated his guts. He hated his tan. He hated his too white smile. And he absolutely hated his girly blonde hair.
Sweat beaded on his top lip, all due to how Becca’s hips rolled in a slow, sensuous rhythm into the man’s groin and he ran a shaky hand over his mouth. Now her leg, her naked leg, lifted and hooked behind his waist as she threw herself back over his arm, her hair almost touching the floor.
And what the fuck was she wearing?
He couldn’t call it a dress because there was hardly anything of it. It looked as if it had been sprayed on and he could see her panties. Screaming red silky panties that matched the killer heels and the killer dress.
So much for I don’t want a relationship, I need my space. Yeah, right. It hadn’t taken her long to replace him had it? A Molotov cocktail of utter fury and jealousy threatened to throttle him. His hand itched to plant his fist into the pretty boy face that Becca was looking at as if he was the most important man in the fucking universe.
They took a bow when their audience cheered at the end of the impromptu exhibition.
Becca struggled to pull her dress up over her breasts and Lucas wondered why the hell she even bothered. It was too late. Every fucker in the room would be sporting a hard-on after that performance. What sort of dancing was it she did for Christ’s sake?
How could he have been so stupid to be taken in by her?
When the man planted a hard kiss on her soft mouth, Lucas decided he’d had enough. He tossed back his beer, his eyes tracking her like a lion stalking a gazelle in the Kalahari Desert.
Disgusted with her and especially himself, Lucas was about to leave when her body language changed in a way that had him stand absolutely still.
Becca took a low curtsey, tugging up her dress and grinned at Justin.
Justin caught her in a hug and smacked a hot kiss on her stunned mouth.
‘What was that for?’ she wanted to know, pulling him to the bar.
‘The kiss?’
‘Of course, the kiss!’
‘There’s a guy who’s not taken his eyes from you all night.’
The behaviour was a part of Justin’s routine and it was typical of him to protect her from unwanted attention.
She patted his cheek. ‘Thanks.’
Hazel eyes sparkled into hers. ‘Hmm. My pleasure.’
Then with one of his mercurial mood changes he frowned into his glass of red wine and caught her eye as she sipped her soft drink.
‘What?’ she demanded.
Her headache had returned with a vengeance and she’d give anything for a hot bath and bed.
‘Just thinking. You need to get a life. After that performance it’s time you took baby steps to get you back in the saddle of sex.’ Serious now, his sharp eyes held hers. ‘Rick would never have wanted you to close yourself off like this. You know it, sweetie.’ He took a sip and grimaced as he caught the frozen look on her face.
Nausea rolled through her system while the room tilted.
Justin swore long and loud as he put his glass on the bar.
He turned and his big hands gripped her lean shoulders as her pulse roared in her ears.
She took a sharp breath and the room snapped back into focus.
With a clutch in her belly and what felt like a dagger in her heart, Becca simply stared at the man who was as close to her as a brother.
‘How could you say such a thing to me?’
‘It hurts and I’m sorry for it but you’ve buried yourself alive, Becca. You need to re-connect with your emotions. Feel again. Rick would be ashamed of you.’ He gave her a little shake as his gaze swam before her. ‘I love you. But you need to start living.’
She spun away from him.
Hands clenched at her sides, her eyes met his.
She’d buried herself alive?
The ache in her throat made her voice hoarse. ‘I am alive. I haven’t missed a single day of work, have I?’
Frustration with her sparked in his brown eyes.
‘Exactly. You wear yourself out until exhaustion.’ He swallowed the rest of his wine, smacked the glass on the bar. ‘It’s been nearly two years since you buried him. How is that living?’
Fury spiked through her mind, blasted through never-ending grief.
‘How dare you? How could you hurt me like this?’
He shrugged. Before she threw something at him, she grabbed her evening bag from the bar, spun on her heel and fled.
Justin stared after her and muttered under his breath,
‘Hell, you’re feeling something now. At least it’s a start.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
Breath heaving, Becca took great gulps of fresh damp air as she stumbled onto the side walk and into the night.
Dazed, she spun on the spot with absolutely no idea of where she was going. All she knew was she had to get away from the club, from Justin and a couple of lingering press photographers watching her. Their noses sniffed the air like jackals scenting blood.
Faltering a little in five inch heels she moved down the wet pavement with agitated steps. Drizzle clung to her overheated skin as she blinked rapidly to clear her vision.
Justin’s words buzzed like relentless bees in her mind. Rick would be ashamed of her?
Trembling fingers pressed against her lips to prevent her screaming with the terrible agony she fought each and every day to keep at bay.
‘Becca?’
She closed her eyes as the deep voice with the hint of Spain spoke from a distance behind her.
God, no. No way could she cope with Lucas. Not now.
With a small cry in her throat, she picked up the pace desperately seeking a taxi.
Swift footsteps came closer and she went faster.
Panic gripped her lungs, thundered in her ears.
Those footsteps kept up and she started to run.
Damn her shoes.
She kicked them off, bent to retrieve them, gathered herself to race and strong fingers gripped her arm.
She whirled around, ready to use a shoe as a weapon, when a firm hand grabbed her wrist.
Desperate now with her head splitting, Becca strained against his iron grip.
‘Let me go,’ she panted desperately.
‘Madre de Dios. It is me, Lucas.’
She gazed up into the fabulous face that haunted her dreams.
He was too pale. She read concern, absolute fury and something else she couldn’t identify in those dark eyes. The world tipped sickly and her heart sounded too loud in her ears along with a roaring sound.
Everything went black.
A cloth, damp and cool was placed on Becca’s throbbing forehead.
She didn’t want to think or to feel. Where was the darkness? She wanted it back. She needed to embrace it again. A familiar masculine scent tickled her senses.
Her eyelids fluttered.
The cloth was turned to the cool side and placed on her forehead.
A voice sighed. ‘Becca?’
With a feeling of inevitability, Becca watched Lucas through her lashes. She told herself the heart-stopping face and those marvellous shoulders didn’t make her heart stumble.
‘Lucas.’ She attempted to sit but his hand pressing her shoulder held her down.
‘Stay there.’ The voice was cold now, the tone harsh and she was seriously annoyed that both brought a teary lump to her throat. ‘I’ve sent for a doctor.’
What?
Her eyes flew to his and she read a cool disdain and detachment in those dark eyes. Quite different to the relaxed
sexy man she’d first met and she shivered.
‘There’s no need.’
‘You are unwell. You have lost weight. You are not leaving here until a doctor has seen you.’ The tone brooked no refusal and she didn’t have the energy to fight. And he was right she felt bloody awful.
She lay on a spacious bed under a sheet of white heavy cotton.
Her gaze wandered around the unfamiliar bedroom. Dimmed down-lights lit a couple of ruthlessly modern oil paintings in shades of vivid purples and orange. Tall, narrow windows were dressed in heavy silk curtains the colour of dark chocolate.
‘Where am I?’
Those sculpted lips almost smiled. ‘Not an original question. My house in a guest bedroom. In answer to the next obvious question, John drove us here.’
The sharp clip of annoyance in his tone brought a hot flush to her cheeks.
‘If you call a taxi I’ll get out of your hair. I ...’
His finger jab stopped her as did his furious face.
‘You are not going anywhere until you and I have had a talk ...’
The knock on the door brought a swift end to the discussion. She tried to assimilate why on earth he was so angry? What had she done? Was it because she’d been annoyed with him in her email and turned off her phone?
A blonde woman in her late forties, slim and attractive, entered the room.
‘Hello, Lucas.’
Lucas smiled and Becca’s breath caught in her throat.
How could she have forgotten how potent that smile was?
‘Becca, this is Dr. Marchford.’
An hour later, Becca decided she was living in a weird parallel universe.
The world she now inhabited couldn’t possibly be real. But it was. And now she’d need to account to Lucas for her actions. Explain to him why she hadn’t taken the morning after pill and why she was pregnant with his child. They’d forgotten to use protection once but as the doctor explained as if she was talking to a simpleton, once was more than enough.
She’d gone to the trouble to go to the chemist and taken the box home, sat on her couch with a glass of water and not taken the pill. Why? Deep down Becca knew exactly why. She’d played Russian roulette with her future and had lost. And now she must face the consequences.
According to the doctor her blood-pressure was dangerously high, which explained the continual underlying headache. Rest was prescribed which meant no work and she’d need to avoid stress. Oh, God.
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