A Bed of Broken Promises

by Clare Connelly

  “Tell me all about him.”

  “He’s incredible. He’s a school teacher, so very good with Maxie, and kind, and interesting. He’s well spoken – American. So good looking it almost hurts to look at, like a solar eclipse.”

  “Sounds too good to be true,” Angela teased, thrilled to see her friend looking so contented.

  “I know! That’s what I thought, at first. I kept waiting for something to happen, to show that he’s not as perfect as I think he is. But so far, nothing.”

  “Kitty, it sounds serious?” Angela’s voice held a warning.

  “Oh, you know I’m not after something serious. Maxie’s my focus.”

  “Be careful, darlin’. Quick thrills don’t really seem like your style.”

  Katie bit down on her lip. “I admit it, I don’t know how I’m going to cope when he leaves town. But knowing that he has to leave at the end of next week means I’ve been prepared from the beginning. I know where this relationship is going. Nowhere.”

  “And you don’t want to see if it has more potential?”

  “I don’t see how,” Katie answered prosaically.

  “Well, you use that thing on your face called a mouth, and you speak to him about what you want.”

  “Angela Morris, are you actually suggesting I try to have a serious relationship with a guy I’ve known for a week?” She lowered her voice self-consciously when she saw the old barman prick his ears in their direction. A few of the regulars from town were in enjoying a Saturday afternoon drink, and she loathed the idea of anyone finding out her business.

  “Why not? What’s so crazy about that? Believe it or not, lots of people would think hot sex for a week was a great basis for an ongoing relationship.”

  She shook her head. “For one thing, it’s not what he wants.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He’s told me. A hundred times. And it’s not what I want, either. What if we got involved – seriously involved, and it didn’t work out? What if Maxie came to love him, and he wasn’t in it for the long haul.”

  Again, she thought of the contract sitting on her office desk, and knew she should sign it. That she probably would. But she assured herself that the decision was only to do with her own aspirations, not the hope that it might make things easier for her to have a future with David Trent. And yet… what if it did? The secret hope blossoming in her tummy was too tender to be shared. She held it close to her heart, but she did hope, desperately.

  “That’s a lot of what ifs, Kitty. Sometimes, you just have to trust your gut.”

  “I am,” she lied, firmly. “Believe me. David Trent is a bit of fun for now, and that’s all.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Your coat, ma’am?” Marcus stood at the door to the bed and breakfast, heart-stoppingly beautiful in black pants and a pale shirt.

  Katie crinkled her nose in amusement but shrugged out of her winter jacket regardless. “Here you are, sir.”

  He took the coat and also the bags of groceries she had hooked over one arm, the weight of which had already ring barked her flesh. She followed him into the Bed and Breakfast, and froze.

  “Oh, something smells amazing,” she said, and then, spinning around, she saw that the whole lounge area had been lit with hundreds of little candles. “My goodness, it must have taken you an hour just to light these bloody things!”

  His face was deadly serious. “With Maxie at a friend’s house, it seemed like too good an opportunity to resist. Seeing as you won’t eat out with me…” he injected some humor into his voice as he caught her hand in his and pulled her towards the kitchen, “I thought we could eat in.”

  She stepped into the kitchen and sucked in a breath of air. “This looks so beautiful,” she swallowed convulsively, feeling tears well up in her eyes. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

  “No one?”

  “No.” She shook her head, taking in the crisp white tablecloth, the arrangement of peonies in the centre, the two glasses of champagne fizzing away in the centre. “Thank you.” She thought of her conversation with Angela that afternoon and confusion swirled through her mind. “It seems like a lot of trouble to go to for a casual fling.”

  He didn’t rise to the bait. Hadn’t he gone out of his way to make her know he could only ever give a snippet of his time? “Some flings are worth the trouble.”

  It made her feel better, and worse, to hear his quick agreement with her characterization of their relationship. “Some flings are,” she whispered slowly, lifting her eyes to his. His face gave nothing away, his expression was wiped of all emotion.

  “Here.” He passed her a champagne flute and lifted his own to it. “To you, Katie Collins. A woman with integrity, class and beauty.”

  She closed her eyes. “This is getting into dangerous territory, David.”

  “Just for tonight. Just let’s not think about the future, or the past. Maxie’s with friends, we have the house to ourselves, and I want to have dinner with you.”

  “But why?” She shook her head, feeling an inexorable tug towards him.

  “Why not?” He pulled her against him gently, loving the way her lips curled up at the corners.

  “We agreed to keep it light…”

  “And we will.” His heart beat frantically in his chest as he willed himself to say the sentence he’d prepared. “In fact, that might be beyond our control, anyway.” He saw the way her face shuttered in immediate wariness. Feeling like the worst kind of pig, he pushed on with his prepared speech. “I have to get back to London. Something’s come up.”

  Katie’s ears were ringing as his statement chased itself around and around her brain. Something’s come up. He’s leaving. “When?” To her credit, she sounded less affected by this news than she actually was.

  “Tomorrow. It’s a long drive and I’ll need to be back by Monday.”

  “Oh.” She took a sip of champagne to buy some more time.

  The way her face had clouded with disappointment might as well have been another knife through his chest. The last thing he’d wanted to do was hurt her, and now he was. It made him appreciate that this was the best decision. For both of them. Passionate sex was not enough to base a relationship on. And the longer they pretended it was, the harder this would be. Regret was already staining his conviction that this was the right move; he wanted to call the words back into his mouth, to render them unspoken.

  “It seems sudden.”

  “It is.” He ignored the pang of remorse over setting this train in motion. “But we have tonight. Let’s finish as we started,” he suggested, noting the way she carefully controlled her reaction.

  Her smile, when she found it, felt heavy and unnatural, but she wasn’t going to let him know how devastated she was. Hadn’t she been telling Angela only an hour ago that their relationship was light-hearted and meaningless?

  God, she loved him, though, and the idea of having only one more night together filled her with an ache greater than words could describe.

  “This has been an incredible week,” he said quietly, and Katie almost wanted to laugh. He was throwing her a bone, and it was a pretty pathetic one. She couldn’t handle the thought that he knew how she felt! How mortifying to love someone so dead set against a relationship. She obviously meant so little to him, that he could leave half way through his trip. She had been dreading the end of his stay, and here he was, hastening it forward. One more night.

  What if he had sensed how much she cared for him, and had decided to end it to save her feelings getting hurt? It was too embarrassing to contemplate and so she didn’t.

  With a little shake of her head, she decided she was going to enjoy this night, with this man. She needed the memories for herself. And in no small part, she wanted to think he would remember her too. That he would miss her in some way, as she knew she would him.

  “What’s for dinner?” Her smile felt more natural now, as she determined to make the most of the little time th
ey had left. He might be leaving in the morning, but she’d always have these memories. David Trent was the most amazing man she’d ever known. Unlike her father, and Roberto, he was scrupulously honest. He’d told her from the beginning that their relationship would be a short-term affair, and now, he was telling her he was leaving just as soon as he’d found out.

  She was a fool for falling in love with him, but at least this time she knew she’d fallen in love with someone who deserved it. Strangely, despite the impending sense of loss she knew she’d have to face, in that moment, she could only be glad that she’d at last met a man who was truly worthy of her heart.

  “I’m afraid I only know how to cook one thing,” he said with a crooked smile.

  “Wow. And I just happened to have the ingredients for it? What is it?”

  He opened the oven door and pulled out a tray with dramatic flair. “Grilled cheese sandwiches, ma’am.”

  She burst out laughing. “Well, they do smell great.”

  “It’s the way I add butter to the cheese.”

  She pulled a face, not really a fan of rich food but not wanting to hurt his feelings.

  “Sit, while we let them cool down.”

  She did, at the seat that was hers, beside Maxie’s, and Marcus slid into the seat that he’d been occupying all week. That would be very empty, come tomorrow night.

  Marcus knew he was being self-indulgent, but he hadn’t been able to rip this Band-Aid off quickly, as he ought. He knew that once he had actually left Wadeford House and the damned Cornish coast, he’d be able to relegate Katie Collins to the back of his mind, where all his ex-lovers lay dormant, no longer of any use to him. But right now, he was having a hard time imagining waking up and knowing he wouldn’t have breakfast with her. Drink his first morning coffee across the table from her, laughing at the frothy news articles in the paper and discussing the more serious ones. He took her hands in his, and marveled as he always did at the way her pale skin was somehow the perfect opposite to his darkly tanned flesh.

  “Do you still think you’re going to sell the place?”

  She nodded slowly, but surely. “The more I think about it, the more I know it’s the right thing to do.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Talking with you, actually.” It was the answer he most feared. How would she ever believe that perfectly innocent conversations were just that – when he had a true ulterior motive?

  “I hardly said anything,” he rebuffed quietly.

  “You made me see that I can put myself first without putting Maxie last. He’ll be happy as long as I am, and I’ll probably get to see more of him if I’m not running this place.”

  “Sounds like the right thing to do, then. Though it will be strange not being able to picture you here.”

  Color stole into her cheeks. “Actually,” she stood up jerkily. “That reminds me of something.”

  She pushed out of the kitchen, steadfastly not allowing her brain to register that she was counting down to his departure in hours and minutes rather than days, now. She flicked the light on to her small home office and picked up the black and white photos she’d printed earlier. She looked at the top picture, of David, his smile beaming so brightly that it was amazing it hadn’t shattered the lens. His eyes, always expressive, were aglow with contentment. She’d taken it that day they’d fought. Before they’d fought. When she’d thought he was the most beautiful person she’d ever seen. After they had argued, she thought him even more beautiful, for his flaws and his emotions and his ‘realness’.

  She walked back into the kitchen and handed the photos she’d taken to him. There were ten, in total. “Here.” She said simply, watching nervously as he thumbed through them slowly, paying each one a proper amount of attention as he analyzed the emotion, the composition, the lighting. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “Katie, you really are extremely talented.”

  She bit down on her lip. “Do you think so?”

  “I know so.” And he did. He’d bought several pieces by a top photojournalist a couple of years ago. Veronica, despite a dislike for anything cerebral, had demanded them in the divorce, so he no longer had them in his possession. But he would have sworn Katie’s had something extra. An emotion, or style, that was totally her.

  “You should be doing this for a living. This should be your life.”

  She smiled, over-brightly, to hide the lump of raw emotion that was clogging her throat. “And maybe I will.”

  She pointed toward the bottom picture, a photo she’d snapped of the two of them one night, after Maxie had gone to bed and they’d set up to play a game of scrabble. It was disbanded once he began making words of a distinctly suggestive nature, and she’d decided wordplay was not as fun as foreplay. “You will be able to picture me, anyway.”

  He frowned, and shuffled the pictures, pushing them aside a little carelessly. But her words were piercing the shield of resolve that he’d pulled into place. And he couldn’t afford to change tack now. Katie Collins had a dangerous way about her. She could get under his skin like no other woman ever had, and he simply had to conquer this feeling. If leaving her behind was the only way to do it…well, it was a shame, but he was not going to become some love-sick fool for the next week.

  His eyes were cool once more, when they met hers, full of the reserve that Marcus Harris was renowned for. “It’s a lovely gift. Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” She wouldn’t let him see that his casual gratitude hurt her. Tonight was not about anything except racking up memories.

  “Have you suffered from claustrophobia for long?” She asked out of nowhere, raising her champagne and taking another sip to ease the parched sensation in her throat.

  “No.” He shook his head. “Not long.”

  “When did you first realize…”

  “About a month ago.”

  “Wow, that is sudden.” She tilted her head to one side, watching him from beneath her long lashes. “I think I read somewhere that it can be a result of trauma. A memory. Or an event. Do you know why…”

  “No.” He stood up quickly, his chair scraping the tiled floor as he pushed it back. “Ready for your gourmet dinner?” His voice might have sounded mirthful but Katie wasn’t fooled.

  She expelled an angry sigh. “You’re never going to see me again after tonight. Why not tell me the truth?”

  He froze midway to the sandwiches. Could she know? Had she discovered his identity?

  “The truth?” He asked noncommittally, busying himself with slicing the sandwiches into triangles and arranging them on a plate, so that he didn’t have to look at her questioning face.

  “David, don’t forget who you’re talking to. We might have only known each other a little while, but we made short work of it. I’ve told you things I’ve never shared with another soul. Would it kill you to be frank with me?”

  “But I’m not Frank,” he joked weakly, wiping his hands on a red gingham tea towel.

  “You’re infuriating,” she said with a roll of her ice blue eyes, watching his naturally long stride as he crossed back towards her.

  He put the sandwiches on the table and then came to stand over here, a leg on either side of her seat, his butt propped on the edge of the table. “Katie Collins, you are seeing mystery where there is none. Can’t you just take me at face value?” He knew he was the worst kind of bastard, but now that he’d already spread this fiction, he had to see it through.

  He pressed his lips on hers, knowing she was as incapable as he was to think of anything when their bodies were touching. Her low moan deep in her throat was all the proof he needed that she’d forgotten her quest for knowledge. And yet, he couldn’t break the kiss. He deepened it, pulling her to her feet and pressing her into the void between his legs, holding her tight and wishing there was some way things could be different for them.

  “I’m suddenly not hungry…” she said against his mouth and he felt his heart soar. He’d got himself into the biggest
bloody mess of his life, but he was going to ignore that for now.

  He scooped her up and then laid her down on the cold, kitchen floor, laughing as she crumpled her beautiful face despite the sexual hunger flowing between them. “You’ll warm up,” he promised throatily, lifting her jumper over her head and quickly discarding her jeans. “I promise.”

  They’d made love so many times over the last week, he’d lost count. He now knew her body almost as well as his own and he delighted in rediscovering all of the buttons he could push to make her reach fever pitch. Her big toe that he knew he could drive her wild by sucking. Her inner thigh, the most sensitive flesh on her body – when he kissed her there, she bucked in pleasure. As he worked his way up her body, he knew he wasn’t prepared to put a stop to his pilgrimage of pleasure.

  “Wait, wait,” she whispered, pulling up to a kneeling position. “I want to see you, too,” she said sexily. His pupils dilated as he watched her undress him, her hands unsteady but determined, working their way over his tanned skin. They stilled as she cupped his erection, holding the length of him in her palms and enjoying the way his face flushed with desire.

  “You’ve driven me wild this week, David,” she whispered, “and I want to do something I’ve never done before.” And though she was nervous, she was also incredibly excited. The last thing she saw before dipping her head was his face, etched with disbelief. It was a completely different feeling, to take the length of him in her mouth, but she reveled in the feel of his smooth shaft in her warm, moist mouth. He made a low sound of pleasure and she felt happiness crescendo inside of her. He’d kissed her intimately from that first night, right here in the kitchen. This felt like a fitting thing to do on their last night. And it was making her crazy with need.

  She could feel him tensing and suddenly, his firm hands were on her shoulders, pushing her back. “Katie,” he groaned, “you don’t know how close I am. I need to be with you.”

  A thrill of ancient pride ran through her and she pushed him gently, so that he rocked back from his haunches into a sitting position. She paused only to sheath him in a condom and then she took his length inside her, crying out as he thrust deep inside. How was she ever going to live without this pleasure?