Tell Me You Do

by Fiona Harper

No. It couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it. Because she couldn’t go back to being that pathetic person. It would be too sad.

  So she faced herself down in the mirror again, applied camouflage in the form of foundation and concealer, obliterated the creature with a wave of a magic mascara wand and her favourite tube of Valentine Rose lipstick. And when she was finished, she slid her feet into the highest, most impractical shoes she owned and made the journey to work.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHLOE FOUND DANIEL waiting for her outside the tropical plant nurseries after work. A large wicker picnic basket was swinging from his hand. She stared at it, already guessing where they were going for their July date. Just as well she’d changed into something casual and summery.

  ‘I hope you like live music,’ he said.

  She nodded and smiled, determined not to show she was nervous at the prospect of another evening in his company.

  While all months at Kew had their own special appeal, July was bold and bright and showy. Everywhere flowers bloomed, filling the gardens with a stunning palette of colours and a cocktail of scents. They walked the half-mile to their destination: past the Palm House, through the Mediterranean garden with its temple, and on to the largest of Kew’s glasshouses, the Temperate House.

  Each year Kew hosted a week-long music festival, erecting a stage in front of the three-sectioned greenhouse. As dusk fell the Temperate House became the backdrop for the performance, and coloured lights inside would bathe the trees emerald and turquoise and magenta, and bands would play into the night as the audience picnicked on the lawn in front.

  The music selection was different each night. There was classical. There was jazz. There were top-name chart acts and old-timers touring on a second wind of fame. Tonight, Kat de Souza, one of the rising stars of the UK music industry, was playing.

  Chloe had asked Emma if she wanted to come, but she’d cried off, saying some hot young guy had turned up at her belly-dancing class a couple of weeks ago and she didn’t want to miss one in case he came back. So, secretly, Chloe was very pleased Daniel had chosen this for their July ‘date’.

  He led her to a reserved section of lawn near the stage, pulled a thick woollen blanket from the top of the basket and spread it on the ground. Chloe sat down as elegantly as she could in her knee-length summer dress, crossing one leg over the other. He wrestled with something in the picnic basket behind her and then there was the distinctive breathy pop of a champagne bottle being opened. Seconds later he passed a slim flute to her.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said and took a sip. ‘This is lovely, if a bit … well … public.’

  He sat down beside her and lounged back, stretching his long legs out and resting on one elbow. ‘You complained our last date wasn’t public enough.’

  ‘I did not complain. I merely commented,’ she said in her smoothest voice.

  Daniel chuckled. ‘Believe me, after living with my sister for the last year and a half, I am well aware that in the female species those terms are practically interchangeable.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ Chloe said, but her lips curled at the edges.

  He just raised his eyebrows and did a pretty passable impression of Kelly. ‘Daniel, there are muddy boots in the hallway … Daniel, there’s some weird compost—like rotting muesli—in the bathroom sink …’

  Chloe couldn’t help but laugh. She liked this side of Daniel. When she’d first come back to Kew she’d thought him more buttoned-down than before. But he seemed much more like his old self now. Maybe it had just been a result of all the stressful press attention in those early months.

  He unpacked the picnic—one of Kew’s gourmet affairs that he must have pre-ordered when he’d booked the tickets. Just as well, given Daniel’s culinary skills. There were appetisers and Greek salad, poached salmon and strawberries and cream. Chloe helped herself to a miniature tartlet. It was heavenly.

  The last month had gone seamlessly. The Mouse had been banished and she and Daniel were executing their plan perfectly. They’d reached a silent understanding after their last date. As a result, it wasn’t awkward when they bumped into each other at work any more. He often dropped by her nursery when he was passing, occasionally bringing her a cup of her favourite coffee from the nearby café. They were friends. And if people saw their easy banter and read more into it, then she let them.

  The first act came on as the sun fell low in the sky and music permeated the balmy evening air. Chloe leaned back on her hands and felt all the tension melt from her shoulders.

  They were good. A lively little swing band that had the audience’s toes tapping and heads nodding. She and Daniel worked their way through the picnic and a little more of the champagne. He was attentive, giving her the lion’s share of the strawberries, offering to top up her glass if it got too low, and they chatted easily as the band played and twilight fell.

  And he was being the perfect gentleman, which made things so much easier.

  Chloe sighed with contentment. So she didn’t want to get romantically entangled with Daniel. It wasn’t a crime to spend time with a man who enjoyed being with her. And he did enjoy being with her. She could tell that from every look, every scrap of body language.

  She should have paid attention to the wave of warmth that flooded her torso at that thought, but she didn’t. She was too busy stripping the ghosts of the past of all their power.

  Before, she’d just been a faceless girl to him. One of the many anonymous bodies in a packed lecture hall. He hadn’t known her when he’d pushed her away, told her to get a grip on herself. But now …

  Now Daniel did know her, and he liked what he saw. It changed everything.

  So when the breeze picked up and Chloe gave a little shiver, causing Daniel to shift closer so she could rest against his shoulder if she wanted to, she didn’t wriggle away. And when the swing band finished their set and everyone got up to dance for their final number, she let him pull her to her feet.

  The music was so loud that he had to lean in very close to talk into her ear. His breath was warm on her neck. ‘You’re good at this,’ he said, after she spun out and then back in again. ‘You’ve got the moves right down.’

  Chloe showed off by doing a tuck and spin. ‘I had a few lessons,’ she said, a little smugly.

  Daniel looked suitably impressed. He twirled her out again perfectly, but when she came back he was closer and she all but crashed into him. Her palm splayed across his chest was the only thing that stopped the entire length of their torsos touching.

  ‘You’re a woman of many talents,’ he said, sliding his hands round her waist. ‘Are you this good at everything you do?’

  ‘I make sure I am,’ she replied. She’d meant it quite innocently, but the husky tone to her voice added a whole extra layer of meaning.

  Daniel’s eyebrows rose in reply and his smile widened. Then he pulled her closer so her temple was pressed against his cheek. ‘I’ll bet you are,’ he whispered into her ear, and Chloe started to shake deep down inside.

  The song came to an end and people started clapping. Chloe and Daniel didn’t move. An invisible force field had glued them together, even when the applause faded and people started sitting back down to continue eating and drinking in the break before the next artist. The slap of the double bass was still pounding in Chloe’s ears, even though the band had left the stage minutes ago.

  There was no comfortable, easy conversation now. They’d gone beyond words, the delicious little undercurrent zapping between them was doing all the talking.

  Would it really be so bad?

  To give in to this tugging deep down inside, the one that was drawing her to Daniel? They were both single, both grown-ups. Wasn’t this what she’d wanted—longed for—for years? She couldn’t quite remember why she was so set on denying herself now.

  While she was still contemplating this, the stage darkened and the crowd hushed in anticipation. Reluctantly, they pulled apart and sat down as Kat de Souza walked onto the stag
e, her feet bare, in tight fitting jeans, a simple sleeveless black T-shirt and a multitude of necklaces and bangles. When she reached the centre she sat down on a stool. Everyone went quiet. Chloe could even imagine the trees in the arboretum leaning just a little bit closer to listen.

  Kat’s first song was one of her early hits. Chloe found herself mouthing the words and swaying slightly, knees bent, feet together, body hugged against her knees. She was completely lost in the moment until she heard a deep, rich voice beside her, humming. She turned to find Daniel singing.

  She leaned closer so he could hear her without her shouting. ‘You know every note.’

  He gave a rueful smile. ‘Kelly mainlined this album for about three months. I could probably recite the lyrics in my sleep, if I really wanted to. It’s not really my kind of stuff, but it grew on me.’

  ‘Let me guess,’ Chloe said. ‘You’re more of a rock guy?’

  He smiled at her in a way that made her insides avalanche. She turned to face the stage again and carried on singing silently, feeling a wee bit oxygen starved.

  The song was a bewitching one of love and passion and regret, and the magic it wove throughout the crowd deepened the spell working on Chloe. The sky grew dark, the rainbow lights in the Temperate House glowed and the champagne danced in her veins. Daniel shuffled in behind her and she sank back into him, while she kept her eyes on the young woman on the stage.

  Every part of her that touched him was fizzing with electricity, and she didn’t want it to stop. And that only meant one thing.

  Dared she really do this? Was she really that brave?

  Daniel moved so he could talk into her ear. ‘Your lips are moving, but you’re not making any sound.’

  She twisted towards him and found his face breathtakingly close. ‘How do you know? I was facing away from you and it’s too loud to hear me even if I was.’

  His arm snaked around her and he flattened his palm against her lower ribs. And then he just looked at her. Looked into her eyes. Looked at her lips. ‘I can’t feel any vibrations in your torso,’ he said quietly.

  He couldn’t? Chloe sure as hell could.

  But he was right—she hadn’t been singing.

  ‘Singing is the one thing I’ve never been any good at, no matter how hard I tried.’ And, boy, had she tried. Two years of private singing lessons hadn’t been able to get a good note out of her.

  Strangely, this made Daniel smile.

  ‘What?’ she said, knowing her cheeks were colouring further.

  ‘It’s nice to know you’ve got a few imperfections like the rest of us.’

  He’d meant it as a compliment, but Chloe couldn’t help the instinctive bristling at his words. A spike of something cold went through her. She was an attractive, confident, sexy woman now. It had been a long time since her parents’ suffocating ambition for her had weighed on her heavily. She knew she didn’t have to be brilliant at everything, but it was hard to let go of the little inner push that told her to try harder, be better. And she was feeling a little of that pressure tonight.

  New Chloe had been her most important self-improvement package to date. What was the point in excelling at Italian cooking or swing dancing or Spanish guitar if you failed at the most important thing—being a woman? Deep down inside, even if she hadn’t admitted it to herself, her decade-long quest had been to turn herself into the kind of woman Daniel Bradford wouldn’t turn down. And tonight, if she was brave enough, she could have her answer. One way or another.

  Oh, the thought scared her so. She went to turn her head away, catch her breath for a moment, but he caught it with his hand, hooking his fingers round the curve of her neck, letting his thumb trail her cheek. ‘Don’t.’

  She held her breath.

  This was it, wasn’t it? She could reach for what she wanted—what she’d always wanted—or she could shrink back like a coward.

  She took in every feature of his face, lingering over the line of his jaw, the not quite straight nose, the tiny scar she’d never noticed before almost completely hidden by his left eyebrow.

  And he held still and let her, meeting her gaze. Not flinching, as she might well have done.

  This wasn’t the same as that awful night in the pub car park ten years ago. How could it be? He’d been giving her the signals for months. He wasn’t going to push her away, this time. He wasn’t going to run.

  She swallowed and dropped her gaze to his lips, knew the exact moment he did the same.

  Stop, a voice inside her head said. You’ve been here before. You remember how it ends. But even this voice sounded half-hearted and unconvincing.

  Keeping her eyes fixed on the firm curve of his lower lip, she leant forward to taste it.

  Daniel stayed completely still at first, letting her discover the hint of strawberries still lingering on his mouth. She took her time, exploring fully—the little dents at the corners of his lips, the fullness of the bottom one, the sculptured curve of the top.

  And then something seemed to snap inside him and he hauled her onto his lap and took over. If Chloe had thought that sweet, slow exploration had been worth a decade of waiting, Daniel’s fully-loaded response was more than she ever could have imagined. It swept conscious thought and common sense completely from her brain.

  Daniel’s head was spinning. Kissing Chloe was every bit as good as he remembered. Possibly better. Because this time she wasn’t blindsided, taken by surprise. This time he’d let her come to him, let her take charge.

  Why, for heaven’s sake, had he never used this approach before? He’d still been hunting, but it hadn’t been a crashing-through-the-forest kind of hunting; it had been patient and stealthy, all about the wait rather than the pursuit, and the prolonged anticipation had only made the final moment so much sweeter. Instead of feeling as if he’d worn her down, broken something inside her to let him in, he felt alive because she was blooming right there in his arms.

  When they pulled away from each other, her eyes stayed closed, a delicious little smile on her lips. Daniel was very tempted just to lean in close and taste them again, but he wanted her to open her eyes and look at him.

  She was a contradiction, this Chloe Michaels. He’d expected her to be as slick and expert with her lips as she was in everything else. She was, but not in the way he’d anticipated. There’d been a rawness, a sweetness, an exuberance to her response that had caught him totally by surprise.

  Her lids parted and she held his gaze.

  It was there. What he’d been waiting to see, even though he couldn’t quite put a name to it.

  Once wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. But he had to keep reminding himself he was sitting on a lawn with a couple of thousand other people, and that it might not be the greatest idea to keep going right now. He knew where he wanted to spend the night, and it wasn’t in a police cell.

  As good as the music was, it was torture to wait for Kat to finish her set. He kept in contact with Chloe any way he could. He wrapped himself around her, linking his arms in front, pressing butterfly kisses into her neck and hearing the low noises of appreciation deep in her throat as she closed her eyes and tilted her head to give him better access.

  Eventually, the last chord was played, the applause welled and faded, and the stage lights dimmed. People around them began to move. Daniel reluctantly peeled himself away from Chloe and stood up.

  ‘I’ll be back in a second,’ he told her and disappeared off to a marquee to dispose of the now-empty picnic basket and supplies.

  When he returned, he saw her long before he cleared the rest of the crowd. She was the only thing in focus as he made his way towards her, the soft smile on her lips, the way her eyes took on extra sparkle when she looked at him … It was making his blood simmer.

  He had to kiss her again when he reached her, couldn’t help himself, couldn’t get close enough.

  ‘This time I’m taking you home,’ he said, stepping away and turning in the direction of the car park.

&nbs
p; She tugged him back and delayed him with another swift kiss. ‘Not that way,’ she murmured huskily. ‘We can walk through the gardens and leave through the gate near the river. I only live a few minutes from there.’

  Daniel thought of the modern apartment blocks on the other side of the river. Dark wood, white stucco and steel. They suited her perfectly. Stylish, modern, free from any clutter and complications.

  They walked through the gardens in silence. Every now and then they paused to kiss—one moment with her pressed up against the rough bark of a tree, the next in the middle of a lonely path, beautiful vistas spreading out unseen around them in every direction. Each meeting of their bodies and lips grew more heated, more frantic. Daniel realised he needed to slow this down a little or he’d explode before they even reached the boundary of the park. As wonderful as making love to Chloe on the soft dark grass would be, if Security caught them they’d both be out of a job in the morning.

  Finally they reached Brentford Gate and walked through the car park and along the tow path. The lights in the apartment blocks glinted temptingly across the water and he willed himself to last until they got there. However, it was only a few steps before Chloe stopped and turned.

  ‘Here we are,’ she said.

  Daniel frowned and looked around. There were no houses here, just trees. Not even a path or a gate to a back garden, as there were farther up the tow path.

  ‘No … this way,’ she said softly and tugged at his hand. He turned one-eighty, but all he could see past the row of houseboats was the river, glinting gold and silver from the moon and the streetlights on the far bank.

  Houseboats …

  He stopped looking at the water and turned his attention back to Chloe. ‘Here?’

  ‘Come aboard,’ she said, pulling his hand and heading down a narrow gangplank to a double-storey boat with a flat roof, decorated with enamel buckets full of summer flowers.

  He was a little confused at first. This really wasn’t the sort of place he’d pictured her living in. It was charming enough, but it wasn’t slick and luxurious like Chloe herself. However, he quickly decided he didn’t really care where she lived. That she was actively dragging him inside was the important thing, surely?