Forbidden to Touch

by JC Harroway

  ‘Didn’t you leave your car at the Faulkner?’

  I shrug. ‘Us grumpy old men can afford more than one—we’ve been earning money for longer.’

  ‘Great!’ Her smile twitches but her eyes still carry the strain, which pulls me up short and reminds me there’s as much at stake now as there was the last time I erred close to the kind of feelings germinating.

  Question is, do I give them light and water, or rip them out by the roots?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Blair

  I’M HEADING BACK to the Faulkner’s rear staff entrance, having spoken to the team of carpet fitters working on the top floor of guest rooms today, when I spy Reid striding my way. I freeze, my pulse leaping double time and my face heating with remembered shame, which dilutes the excitement I feel at his appearance. Because I was a coward. I had the perfect opportunity to tell him I fully understood what Sadie had put him through—because Josh had not only done the same to me, but also gone one step further and actually succeeded in ruining my business—and I couldn’t do it. Because the way he made me feel highlighted how invested I was in him. Not the work, or Graham, but Reid himself. I couldn’t confess how naive I was. Not after the sofa session, not after he gave me the control I asked for, told me he trusted me.

  That moment, a perfect moment when I saw past the Reid Faulkner he projects to everyone else. As he lay beneath me, naked, vulnerable and turned on all because of me, something cracked open, spilling inside me and filling me up until I could barely breathe. I not only wanted his trust, I craved it, validation I could have what I want, be who I want to be and never have to compromise again.

  I was falling for him, addicted to him, the man I’d stupidly thought I’d known at eighteen, but now saw for who he really is with the clarity of a woman falling in love. And I didn’t want him to think less of me, to think of me as anything but the competent, capable professional I’ve strived to become. I couldn’t tell him what I haven’t even admitted to my family—the full extent of Josh’s betrayal for fear of we told you so recrimination.

  The minute I hinted that my own betrayal wasn’t that dissimilar to his, I sensed his barriers slamming back up. He said all the right things, but he withdrew, his reminder, albeit through humour, of our age gap and his experience and wisdom loud and clear. He said age wasn’t a barrier to our sexual relationship, but perhaps it would be a barrier to us ever becoming more.

  I search his face for evidence of his feelings, learning nothing. Perhaps he’s not even here for me; perhaps his emotional withdrawal on Sunday means he’s also withdrawn his trust. Perhaps he’s checking up on me after all. It’s his hotel—he has every right to keep an eye on the renovations and with any other client I wouldn’t question his motives. But now, with my feelings growing harder and harder to ignore, I crave his belief in me more than I want his recommendation or his repeat business. Perhaps even more than I want the addictive, life-affirming sex. Because I crave all of him, the whole package, the man he is today. Is that, too, naive?

  ‘Hi,’ I say. ‘Have you come to check on progress?’ My stomach gripes with persistent, hard-to-shake doubts. I’ve been to the Faulkner three times this week, and each time I’ve caught myself looking for his tall frame and his dark head of hair. Each day as I’ve been driving home I’ve considered dropping into his place and allowing all my ugliness to spill, an insane act of bravery, which would tell me, one way or another, exactly how he feels about me, and whether we could have any serious future relationship. Every time I speak to the painters, I find myself smiling at his lime-green aversion. And passing any sort of upholstered furniture sends me up in flames as I recall me riding him on the sofa, our sweaty, carnal twins reflected from the mirror.

  He presses a kiss to my cheek and then, as if thinking better of it, slides his mouth over mine while hoisting me up to his kiss with arms banded around my waist. ‘No—I’ve been a little busy this week. And I’ve come to see you.’

  ‘Oh? Why?’ Pleasure at his words shudders through me, dampened by the cowardly secret hanging over my head.

  ‘Well, one—’ he presses a brief kiss to my lips ‘—because I’ve missed fulfilling your fantasies. Two—’ he reaches inside his breast pocket and produces a business card ‘—because Mia wanted me to pass this along—she’s serious about some decorating advice and wants you to call.’

  He takes my hand in his and I try to contain the euphoria of how right it feels, how I want to keep it there all day. How I want to confess not only my darkest shame, but also my most enduring fantasy—him taking me, us, our relationship outside of the bedroom seriously. Him wanting me for keeps.

  ‘And three—I wanted to invite you to the Hoteliers Association Gala on Friday.’

  My heart beats a silly rhythm before I slap it back with some good, old-fashioned common sense. This doesn’t mean anything. Just because he’s missed the sex doesn’t mean he’s missed me. Just because he wants a date for Friday doesn’t mean he sees relationship potential in us. And, of course, he feels obliged to invite me after Graham’s suggestion at lunch.

  ‘So you need a plus one?’

  He grins as if he sees through my flimsy assurances. ‘Sure. So, will you come? It’s black tie. Dancing. Kit and Mia are going.’

  ‘I...’ My teeth catch my lip—this should be an easy yes. He’s enough of a temptation dressed in one of his impeccable suits, this one royal blue. I love dressing up fancy and dancing. But somehow things have changed, and I changed them. Now I crave more of those moments when he lets his guard down and lets me in almost as much as I crave his sexy smile, his penchant for tugging me under his arm and kissing the top of my head, and his uninhibited laughter at my teasing. Decisions I’d have made in a heartbeat a week ago now require more serious consideration. More thought. Because now my feelings are involved, and I have no idea what he’s feeling. But in order to find out, I’m going to have to be brave. To not only make myself vulnerable but also to confess I’m not quite the savvy businesswoman I’ve painted myself to be. Will I regret it? Will he be as disappointed in me as I am in myself?

  ‘Don’t overthink this, Blair.’ His hand cups my face. ‘You’d be doing me a favour, your presence turning a boring evening of talking shop with the industry’s movers and shakers into a night out that I’m would actually look forward to.’

  Still I hesitate. Because I want to be more than his date. More than someone spending an evening with him. I want all of him, and that will involve giving all of me and hoping he feels the same.

  I stall for time. ‘Is it being held at a Faulkner hotel? I don’t think my parents have mentioned it this year...’

  He shakes his head, sidling closer as if he knows he can persuade me with his physical touch alone.

  ‘Well, maybe next year,’ I say. ‘In the newly renovated Faulkner ballroom, perhaps.’

  ‘Maybe.’ He shrugs, uncaring, eyes piercing through every defence I possess. ‘Please come—if it’s because you have nothing to wear I can juggle my calendar and we could go shopping if you want.’

  I splutter then full-out laugh. ‘You like shopping?’ The image of Reid wandering into some women’s clothing boutique is too funny.

  He grins. ‘No, but I’ll go with you, if it will help your decision. Plus, you have to come because Mia is about to give birth and she really wants to talk to you. Kit tells me it’s not a good idea to upset a pregnant woman.’ His lips twitch and I can’t stop myself from kissing him. Because I’ve wanted to since the moment he walked into his hotel. Since the moment he drove away from me on Sunday evening. Since the moment he confessed that he trusted me, before the doubts crept in.

  ‘Okay—you’ve convinced me.’ My decision settles in the pit of my stomach but I ignore the pinch. It’s just a night out.

  ‘Excellent.’ He looks at his watch. ‘So four p.m. for our shopping trip?’

  I laugh again, letting
him off the hook. ‘You don’t need to worry—I have something I can wear.’

  He visibly sags with relief. ‘Thank God for that.’ Then he winks, kisses me again and saunters off, leaving me freewheeling towards something I’m not sure I’m ready for, desperately searching for the breaks I’m certain are out of reach.

  * * *

  The dance floor in the grand ballroom of one of London’s top hotels is packed with elegant couples dancing to swing classics played by a live band. Reid dances the way he does everything—with that sexy confidence, expertly leading me around to steps I’m impressed he knows.

  ‘Who taught you to dance?’ I smile up at him, my chest full to bursting with both the magical quality of the evening—a champagne reception followed by a four-course dinner and now dancing in the arms of the most handsome man in the room—and the sick-to-my-stomach knowledge I’m in serious trouble where my feelings for him are concerned.

  ‘My mother insisted all three of us had lessons—we hated them, but it turns out it’s a useful skill for impressing women.’ He flicks up his brows and grins, tugging me closer so I’m doused in his delicious scent and fighting the urge to snuggle into his crisp white shirt.

  I snort, avoiding temptation. ‘Like you’ve ever had trouble in that area.’ But now I’m curious. ‘You don’t talk about her much...your mother. I think I only met her one time.’

  ‘No. She lives in Spain. We don’t see much of her.’ His face stays neutral but I feel tension radiate through his hands in mine.

  ‘It must have been hard when your parents split.’

  He shrugs. ‘I was already pretty much a man—it was harder for Drake and Kit. I tried my best to keep them distracted with sports and sailing, and Graham tried his best to keep things...stable, but...’

  ‘So that’s when you became the caretaker?’

  Another noncommittal gesture that tells me more than his words. ‘We’re family—I guess it made us closer as brothers.’

  And now his role as caretaker is even bigger with Graham’s dementia diagnosis at a time when he’s head of the company and Kit and Drake have their own families to think about. ‘Well, they’re all lucky to have you. I’m almost certain my family will never see me as anything but the baby, inconsequential.’

  The current song comes to an end, and I ignore Reid’s frown and glance back at our table. A tired-looking Mia sits with Kit, who appears to be trapped in conversation with a man on his other side.

  ‘I might go and keep Mia company.’

  Reid nods and presses a kiss to my forehead. ‘I’m just going to say hello to a colleague or two. I’ll come and join you soon.’

  As I approach our table, Mia smiles and pats the seat beside her. ‘I’m so tired I could drop,’ she says. ‘But Kit’s trapped talking to some old uni mate. Are you having a nice time?’ Her eyes shine as she scans the room behind me, and I turn to see Reid in conversation with an older man, his eyes sliding my way every few seconds.

  ‘I am. I can’t remember the last time I got all dressed up.’

  She eyes my dress—a black silk halter-neck, the bodice ruched around the breasts and hips. ‘This is gorgeous. No wonder he can’t keep his eyes or his hands off you.’

  We laugh good-naturedly together and then Mia sobers. ‘You know, I haven’t known him that long, but I’ve never seen Reid laugh or smile as much as he does when he’s around you.’

  I cover my internal glow at her words, brushing it off because it’s too close to what I really want to hear, what I hope might be true. ‘He just needed a date.’

  She shakes her head, eyeing me with suspicion. ‘I’m serious. Reid works—that’s all I’ve known him to do. He’s different around you.’ Her eyes narrow and my colour rises. ‘You really like him too, don’t you?’ Mia smiles like the cat that stole the cream and leans close to whisper, ‘Are you falling for him?’ Only another woman could be so perceptive to see what I’ve only myself just recently acknowledged.

  I shrug. ‘I care about him a lot. I’m just... We’ve both had our fingers burnt in the past and, well, I’m a lot younger than him...’

  ‘I’ve heard you both joke about it—are you worried he cares? I don’t think he does.’ She touches my arm.

  Maybe not for something casual, as we started, but for more than that...

  She must sense my discomfort, because she grows serious. ‘You know, Reid sees himself as the family guardian, the caretaker, if you like. Kit says he stepped up after their parents split up.’

  I nod. ‘Yes, that’s who he is—a natural leader, someone to take charge of a situation.’

  ‘Yes, and for a while Kit was in a pretty bad place after his wife died and Drake came home from the army with PTSD. He was their rock, their constant—they both agree he helped them through some pretty tough times.’

  I choke up just thinking of Reid and the burdens he’s shouldered, past and present, and how he feels he has to do it all alone because of one bad relationship experience. ‘It’s great that they have each other, that they’re so close, especially in light of Graham’s diagnosis.’

  Mia nods, her hand stroking her belly as if soothing her unborn child. ‘Yes, but Reid insists on taking on the lion’s share of the burden.’

  ‘He feels he owes Graham the most, I guess.’ I feel defensive for Reid, although she’s in no way attacking him—another sign, if I needed one, of my growing investment in the man.

  Kit bids his companion goodbye and turns to Mia. ‘Are you ready to go home?’ He kisses her with such tenderness, I look away.

  At that moment Reid returns, his hand caressing my bare shoulder.

  ‘We’re off,’ says Kit. ‘Mia is tired.’

  The brothers hug and then Reid kisses Mia’s cheek and helps her into her wrap.

  Kit touches my shoulder and leans in to press his cheek against mine. ‘I wanted to apologise for what you overheard that day at lunch,’ he says, his voice low. ‘My surprise—mine and Drake’s—was for Reid; he’s been so closed off for so long I was shocked and delighted that someone had finally broken through his shield and that it was you of all people. I know we used to tease you when we were younger, but, seriously, we couldn’t be more thrilled for you. And Reid.’

  I stare, too dumbstruck for speech. Have I broken through to Reid? Could Reid possibly care for me as I do for him? Could we ever be more than we are now? Could we be a serious couple with a future together?

  ‘You’re good for him,’ says Kit, his stare sincere and as deep and dark as Reid’s. ‘Goodnight, Blair.’ He collects Mia from Reid and they head off, their arms around each other, their love clearly on display.

  I turn to Reid, who slings his arm casually around my shoulders in that way I love, but then tucks me into his side with a sigh and a protracted sniff of my hair. ‘Want to get out of here?’ I feel the weight of his question to the tips of my toes and see the fatigue and something else, something tantalising, behind his eyes.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good, because I have a surprise.’

  I lift an eyebrow in question, too touched by his smouldering delight and his thoughtfulness for more. I’ve already had a wonderful evening—with this level of attentiveness, he needs to be careful—the love Mia and Kit left wafting in the air could become contagious.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Blair

  INSTEAD OF LEAVING the hotel, Reid heads for the lifts, a knowing smile twitching his sexy mouth. ‘We’re not going home?’ I ask, my stomach swirling with anticipation and nerves, as if I’m still on the dance floor, spinning too fast.

  He shakes his head as he selects the top floor and the lift doors close. ‘I thought it might be nice to stay here.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Touched, I snuggle into his side, my arm gripping his waist inside his jacket. ‘I had a wonderful evening. Thanks for inviting me.’ Why is it so hard to tell hi
m?

  His deep voice rumbles against my cheek. ‘So did I—thanks for coming.’

  We arrive on the top floor and my head swims as Reid leads the way to the penthouse suite.

  The door clicks open and he steps aside for me to enter first. I gasp, one hand covering my mouth. The suite is in darkness, but for a million twinkling seed lights decorating every available surface. This would have taken a long time and considerable cost. That he’s thought ahead and made such a romantic gesture gives me enough hope, my pulse ricochets. Would he go this far if he didn’t care too? If it was just sex to him? That doesn’t mean he sees a future for us though, and now I need to know, as much as I need to touch him. I’m not leaving this room until I cross that terrifying threshold and find out one way or another.

  Reid shrugs his jacket off, an indulgent smile dancing on his lips as I fight the urge to cry at his thoughtfulness, or to blurt out my true feelings and completely scare him off. It’s a good thing that I’m speechless.

  Reid pours two glasses of champagne from a bottle chilling in ice and hands one to me with a sexy smile.

  ‘To five-star hotels and chance meetings.’ His eyes say what I desperately want to hear, but I calm my raging pulse with a swallow of delicious, ice-cold bubbles and force myself to simply live in the moment, to enjoy this. There’s no need to rush my confessions—we have all night.

  Coward.

  I allow myself to be distracted as Reid steps close and skates his fingers lightly down my arm from shoulder to wrist, setting off a cascade of delicious anticipation. ‘Tell me another fantasy.’ His lips brush mine, the taste of champagne and him merging to create a sublime new flavour.

  Tonight, it’s easy. ‘You’re my fantasy. Being whatever you need to be.’ Having all of you.

  ‘I want you too.’ He quirks one eyebrow, waiting, but I have nothing but honesty to offer.

  ‘Then I’m yours.’ Show me how you feel.