by Petrova, Em
“I’m sorry—” she started, but he held up a palm.
“I guess you want to know if I’m capable of looking after you.”
“Oh no, that’s not why I—”
Sawyer’s smile grew soft. “I can look after you, Maddie, don’t worry.”
Look after her? That wasn’t why she wanted a man. She was the nurturer. She wanted someone to look after, she suspected, not the other way around. She might not seem the bold, independent type but she’d been running her own business for nearly five years now and certainly didn’t expect a man to pay her way.
“I don’t need to be looked after,” she replied primly.
“Lots of people don’t need to be looked after.” He took a sip of wine, placed the glass down and eyed her intently. “I know you don’t need to be. You never have. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to though. And it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be occasionally.”
Her insides did something strange then. Maybe they turned to mush or flipped inside out. She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that, suddenly, the idea of Sawyer looking after her was far too appealing. But that would make her so very vulnerable to him again...
Who was she kidding? She was already vulnerable. He was too charming for his own good.
And for hers.
She cleared her throat and concentrated on finishing the meal. Somehow she managed to turn the conversation back to the house and the work that would need to be done. Determined to keep the period features of the house, she managed to talk him out of modernising it too much. Like a typical man, he wanted clean lines and modern fireplaces.
“We have to keep the cornicing and the fireplaces,” she told him.
“The fireplaces are awful.”
“Yes, but they’ll look great after renovation. And it’s what people like here. If house buyers wanted modern, they’d buy somewhere else. People come to Ballicliff because they want traditional.”
He studied her for a moment then began stacking up the plates. She went to help but he motioned to her to sit down.
“You’re not going to argue with me?”
Placing the plates on the side, he faced her. “You always were stubborn. I learned long ago to go with whatever you said.”
“You make me sound horrible.”
“Not horrible. Determined.” Sawyer tilted his head to eye her. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Whereas you have,” she replied, not questioning but merely stating.
“I have. But there’s a few things that haven’t changed. How I feel about you being one of them.”
Maddie held the air in her lungs until she felt she must have turned blue. How was she meant to respond to that? She never should have agreed to give him a chance. Except, deep down, somewhere underneath all those logical thoughts and the hurt still simmering through her, she had wanted to give him another chance.
The fact was, she still wanted Sawyer Steele.
Chapter Six
Sawyer tapped his foot impatiently and glanced at his watch. Was she ignoring him? She’d mentioned having some books for him to look over in regards to the house and had promised she’d have them ready for him by Friday. That had meant two days of not seeing her.
Two days too long.
The curtains were drawn. That was a good sign, right? It meant she was home. Perhaps she was fixing her hair or something like that. He shook his head to himself. That didn’t sound like Maddie.
Finally a key in the lock rattled and she drew open the door. A pale face set in fuzzy hair peered at him as though he was a ghost.
“Sawyer?”
The nasal quality to her voice told him why she looked like she’d been mummified in a thick pink dressing gown and had dark rings under her eyes. As much as he fancied the hell out of her, she looked terrible.
“Are you sick?”
“Yes. Didn’t you get my text?”
He slipped his phone out of his pocket and flicked the screen. “No. Nothing.”
“Shoot, I thought I texted you but I guess...” She waved a hand. “I’m not feeling very...” Maddie gripped the door and her already pasty skin paled further.
“You’re not well at all.” He pressed open the door, forcing her inside, and shut it behind him. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“The place is a mess. I’m a mess.” She sneezed and fished a tissue out of her pocket to blow her nose noisily.
Sawyer gave her a stern look and pointed up the stairs. She turned with a sigh. She really had to be sick if she wasn’t fighting him on this. Even though she took an inordinately long time to ascend the steep steps, he couldn’t help wonder what was under that dressing gown as her pink fluffy rear lined up with his gaze.
He’d never stepped inside the flat above the bookshop before but it reminded him of Maddie—and Ballicliff. It was—what did women call it?—shabby chic style. He recalled one of his ex-girlfriends being obsessed with all this furniture that looked old and worn out but cost a fortune.
A cream couch took up most of the space in the sitting room and a pine coffee table was scattered with tissues, books and packets of cold and flu tablets. The TV was showing some game show but she had the volume turned down. A faded cream bookcase was crammed with books. She had a whole bookshop downstairs, so why she needed her living space to be full of them, he had no idea, but the image of her curled up on the sofa with a book in hand on a Sunday afternoon had the strangest appeal.
With a hand to her elbow, he waved away what he knew would be an apology and directed her to the bedroom. He paused briefly at the threshold. He hadn’t expected this. Deep purple bedding with a damask print covered a bed with a large, dramatic headboard. There was something sensual and sexy about the room. And the huge print of a woman half-covered by nothing more than a sheet added to the feeling. It was beautifully painted and not at all pornographic, but he never imagined Maddie wanting to share her room with a naked woman.
He clenched his teeth. Now there was one fantasy he didn’t need to think about right now.
Except there wasn’t any other woman he’d want joining her. But if there were two Maddies...now that was an idea...He gave himself a mental slap. No, that wasn’t an idea. That was a big, fat fantasy and an inappropriate one at the moment.
Sawyer drew back the sheets and coaxed her into bed. She moved slowly and reluctantly even though he could tell she was dying to curl up and rest. He tucked the duvet around her and she drew it up under her chin. He couldn’t help grinning. She scowled.
“What?”
“You’ll kill me for saying it...but you look kind of cute all tucked up with your hair messy.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. Perhaps she didn’t believe him but at that moment in time, he didn’t think he’d seen anything more endearing. Not hot or sexy, but cute as hell. The kind of cute that made a guy stop thinking of sex and start thinking of marriage and everything that came along with it. He supposed that wasn’t a bad thing considering he’d already pretty much asked her to marry him.
“I’ll get you a drink,” he said and turned before she could argue.
The tiny galley kitchen proved to be perfectly organised. Even though she’d clearly been battling to look after herself and a few mugs sat in the sink, there was no doubting Maddie lived here. Tiny labels noted what should go where on each shelf and he had no problems finding the tea and sugar. He flicked on the kettle and pondered the living room area.
A smile quirked on his lips when he spotted an arrangement of knickknacks on a set of three white shelves. A few photo frames mingled with some seaside type decor—miniature lighthouses and boats and stuff—but it was the driftwood, shells and pebbles that drew his attention.
He remembered her obsession with collecting things from the beach and how he’d found the biggest shell on that shelf. It had been caught amongst the large rocks they used to jump off and he’d risked slicing himself to ribbons to collect it on a particularly windy day. The waves had nearly dragged him out to
sea and he still recalled her screaming his name in terror before he emerged with a huge grin and the big shell. He would have done anything for her.
Still would, he supposed.
The kettle clicked and he finished making a cup for them both. When he returned to the bedroom, she was still awake, staring at him with wide eyes.
He set down the cup on her bedside table and perched on the end of the mattress. “You don’t have much food in. When did you last eat?”
She lifted her gaze to the ceiling and dragged her lower lip between her teeth. “I can’t remember.”
“How long have you been sick?”
“Since Wednesday.” She grimaced and sneezed several times in a row. He handed her a tissue from the box next to the bed. “I think. Nikki—my part-time assistant—has been running the shop for me.”
“Have you even eaten today?”Her silence told him she hadn’t. “Why didn’t you ask Nikki to get you something? Or your mum?”
“Mum and Dad are away for a month and Nikki’s been working hard enough. I told her I’d pop out today to get food. It’s only a cold.”
“Sounds more like the flu to me.”
“Just a cold,” she protested.
A shiver wracked her, increasing his concerns for her health. Daft woman didn’t want to ask for help. He guessed he understood that but still, it wasn’t like she didn’t have a support network. He doubted her friend would have minded helping her. And why didn’t she think to ask him for help? Probably didn’t think he’d be able to look after her.
What if she’d asked someone else? It hadn’t even occurred to him there might be other men waiting in the wings. How stupid was he if he believed Maddie had been patiently sitting around, waiting for his return for twelve years?
Jealousy curled his gut tight. It made his voice harsh. “You’re not expecting anyone tonight, are you?”
She laughed and it turned into a cough. “In this state. I don’t think so.” She rested her head back against the dark headboard. “I appreciate the drink, Sawyer, but you don’t need to stay. I can look after myself and you don’t want to get sick.”
“I never get sick and I’m not leaving you like this.” He drew his phone out of his pocket. “What do you want to eat? Chinese? Indian? Spices would be good for you.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I only like korma.”
“Okay, not exactly spicy, but better than nothing.” He found the number in his phone and dialled in an order. As much as he liked cooking, cooking for one was a bore so he had all the local take-out restaurants in his phone.
Acutely aware of her watching him, it was hard to forget the last time she’d been watching him like that. He stumbled over his own order and blew out a slow breath when he hung up. He didn’t need to be sitting on her bed and imagining when she’d looked at him like she wanted to jump him right then and there. Especially not when she was sick. That wouldn’t exactly do much to prove himself, would it?
Funny thing was, this wasn’t about proving anything. At least not at first. He simply wanted to look after her. He supposed he’d spent so long trying to protect her, it came instinctually.
“They’ll be here in forty-five minutes. I hope you can wait that long.”
She nodded and cradled her cup of tea between both hands. “Thanks, Sawyer.”
Her soft smile made his insides turn to mush. Did she really have to be so damn adorable? He cleared his throat. “Have you had any painkillers recently?”
She glanced at the clock on her bedside table and shook her head. “No, it’s been more than four hours I think. I slept through most of the afternoon.”
Glad to be able to do something useful, he went and got a packet of pills from the coffee table and popped two out for her. She took them with her tea and sighed. When she shifted to get comfortable and her dressing gown gaped, revealing the curve of her breasts in a low-cut strappy pyjama top, all thoughts of adorable and cute vanished. Now words like sexy-as-hell and various other inappropriate phrases whirled around his mind. The last thing Maddie needed was him to be perving on her.
“You can’t stay there all day. Come here.” She patted the bed beside her and plumped up a cushion.
Did she know what he was thinking? Was she trying to torture him? From her guileless expression, no.
She had no idea he was imagining pushing back that fuzzy thing and slipping off those shoulder straps. No clue that right now he was licking her nipples in his mind. He was swirling his tongue around them and drawing them between his teeth. No. Damn. Clue.
He almost felt sorry for her.
Almost. He mostly felt sorry for himself as he settled next to her and felt the warmth of her body pressed against his arm, even through that thick robe. She reached over and flicked on the small TV that sat on a chest of drawers opposite the bed.
“Think there’s an action film on,” she murmured.
“Watch what you want.” He knew full well she didn’t enjoy action films. He didn’t care if she put on the most romantic chick-flick ever made. He wouldn’t be able to watch it. Not when he had Maddie Green in bed with him.
It only took the delivery guy thirty minutes to bring their dinner. It might as well have been a lifetime. First she had rested her head against his arm, then she’d leaned closer. By the time the doorbell rang, she was nearly wrapped around his waist.
He jumped up to answer the door, promising himself a few minutes of cold air once he’d collected the food. He took the bags from the driver, handed over some money and watched the guy drive off. With several lungfuls of clean, unMaddiefied air, he felt better able to deal with her and her vulnerable state.
Vulnerable. Sawyer had to remember that. And he had to prove to her he was a gentleman. For once in his life, he wanted to be the good guy. He’d hurt her bad, trying to save her from him. If he could go back, he’d do it different but he didn’t know how. He had been right at the time. He wasn’t good enough for her.
He dished out the food, threw away the rubbish and tried to clean up after himself. Look, I’m all domesticated. Perfect husband material. He snorted at himself.
“Do you want to—?”
She cut him off by shuffling into the room, robe pulled tightly around her waist. He motioned to the coffee table. “We eating in here then?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to make a mess in my room.”
Was she recalling the mess he’d made with the sauce? He really must have made an impression. And not a good one. Well, he had time to change her mind. The house would take some time to organise and his next writing deadline was way off. He might not relish the idea of staying in Ballicliff for any longer than necessary but he did like the idea of more time with Maddie. If he came out of this with her for his wife, he definitely wouldn’t be complaining.
She ate most of her dinner and he cleared away the plates. Then they settled down to watch TV. He supposed he could have left her to rest but, selfishly, he wanted to extend his time with her. She wasn’t in her usual talkative mood so he wrapped an arm around her and let her rest against him.
Sawyer pretended it was for her but it wasn’t. Apparently he was a sucker for torture as he wanted her all warm and snugly against him.
As the evening wore on and they laughed at the awful game show they were watching and some of the contestants’ antics, the tension in his body ebbed away. He still wanted her. He didn’t think he ever wouldn’t.
But at some point, he’d begun to enjoy the reality of having this woman curled up next to him. Hell, he was even enjoying watching TV with her. And he never watched TV. Evenings were usually his most productive time for writing and he spent the rest of the day working out, climbing or doing admin.
Maddie burrowed closer and mumbled. He glanced at the clock and realised it was past ten. “I’d better go,” he said softly.
“No,” she mumbled. “Won’t come back.”
He eased her away and saw she’d fallen asleep, or she was at least half-asleep. All the cold
and flu medicine must have taken its toll.
“I’ll come back,” he assured her as he scooped her into his hold.
She wasn’t heavy and he was strong enough but her arms flopped about, nearly sending him off balance. It took him several tries to get the positioning right before he managed to lift her and carry her to the bedroom. He didn’t remove her robe—he didn’t trust himself to—before slipping her under the covers. Maddie nuzzled her pillow and sighed.
“Missed you,” she said to her pillow.
His lips tilted. He hoped those words were meant for him. He stepped around the bed and went to draw the curtains shut. Sawyer paused and gazed out at the harbour. Lights glinted from the houses opposite and if he listened carefully he could hear the water sloshing against the stone walls of the harbour. Few people and cars could be seen. It was totally unlike London. Even in the early hours of the morning, people were everywhere.
He drew the curtains and glanced back at Maddie. He knew why she liked Ballicliff. The place was in her blood. But for him...? He couldn’t be sure he could make that adjustment. It was nice for a break but for long term...? Sawyer shook his head. He’d have to persuade her that London was a great place for her. Or perhaps another town. Just not Ballicliff. The people here had long memories and even if he managed to prove to Maddie he was different, the townsfolk wouldn’t be so easily swayed.
Sawyer couldn’t help wonder if it wouldn’t matter though. If Maddie believed in him, would he care what everyone else thought?
Chapter Seven
Why did he have to see her like this? Maddie peered into the mirror in the sitting room. He called you cute, remember? He was just being nice, Maddie concluded. There was no way rat’s nest hair and being the colour of a ghost was cute.
Why hadn’t she checked that text had sent? She had a terrible signal here and she bet if she looked at her phone she’d see the message would be sitting in her outbox. Either that or she dreamed she’d messaged him. She had been sleeping on and off for most of the day after a terrible night’s sleep so it was possible.