Play Our Song Again (Lynsey Stevens Romance Book 13)

by Lynsey Stevens

  ‘I’ve already apologised. I’m not going to keep apologising.’

  He swore softly under his breath. ‘Do you do it on purpose, Alex?’

  ‘Do what?’ Her voice caught in her throat and she swallowed.

  ‘Bring men to their knees,’ he said and her eyes rose to meet his in surprise. ‘Every man in the room—’

  ‘You’re being ridiculous!’

  ‘Am I? Denman’s obviously smitten. Now young Jason can’t take his eyes off you.’

  ‘Don’t you think you’re overdoing the great white protector bit? But aside from that, it’s none of your business, Justin. I have my own life and I’d like you to leave me alone to live it!’

  His arms tightened, drawing her closer against him, his hard body an insinuation in itself, and her eyes flew to his face again. ‘You’re not the type to live alone.’ His eyes settled sensuously on her lips, the look a caress.

  They were barely moving, but Alex’s body burned where it touched his. Her heartbeats accelerated and when her lips trembled he smiled knowingly. ‘You see,’ he breathed, moving closer, his lips gently kissing her earlobe after moving feather-soft along the line of her jaw. ‘I know you better than you know yourself. Your body will never forget mine, so why fight the inevitable?’ His lips continued to nuzzle her earlobe, sending molten fire through her veins.

  His hand slid down her back to settle around the swell of her hip, holding her closer. She knew she had to put some distance between them and pushed against his shoulder but, of course, he was too strong.

  ‘Don’t fight it, Alex.’ His mouth found hers, his kiss a slow caress, and then he raised his head, his lips curving sensually.

  Beneath her hand flat against his chest Alex felt his heartbeats quicken and she knew he was not as immune to her as he would like her to think he was. Drawing her back against him, he slid his lips down the column of her throat and his hold on her tightened urgently.

  ‘Where are you staying?’ he murmured.

  ‘Blue Waters flats, around the corner from here,’ she heard herself reply. ‘It’s a block of units that Chris owns.’

  ‘What time do you finish?’ His lips had returned to tease her earlobe.

  ‘We’re usually finished by two o’clock.’

  ‘I’ll be there,’ he said thickly.

  ‘No! No, I don’t think you should,’ Alex choked out, livid with herself for allowing him to find out so easily where she was staying. ‘I don’t want you to.’

  He laughed huskily. ‘You know you do. So why pre­tend?’

  ‘I just… I share the flat,’ she got out. ‘It wouldn’t be convenient.’

  His eyes looked down into her face, narrowed, pierc­ing into her very soul. ‘Not convenient? For whom?’

  My, well, my flatmate,’ she replied nervously.

  ‘Well, make it convenient,’ Justin said arrogantly. ‘Surely it can be arranged,’ he added running his hand slowly up her spine, and she trembled responsively.

  ‘Can’t it, Alex?’ His voice was low and dangerously persuasive.

  ‘No. No, Justin!’ She pushed against him, taking him a little by surprise, so that his hands now rested on her waist and their bodies were about a foot apart. ‘Paul wouldn’t understand,’ she said clearly. ‘Now I have to get back to work.’

  His eyes raked her only once before he turned without a word and left her standing in among the other dancers.

  Chapter 6

  When the doorbell pealed next morning Alex almost ignored it, but curiosity got the better of her and she crossed to put her eye to the door’s peephole. Ben pulled a face and grinned at her and she opened the door and stood back for him to come in.

  ‘Hi!’ He stood in the living-room, his hands thrust into the back pockets of his dark jeans, his striped T-shirt moulding strong shoulders. ‘I didn’t know whether or not you’d be up, seeing as it’s your day off.’

  ‘I don’t often sleep in.’ Alex pushed a strand of fair hair back behind her ear. ‘The weather’s too nice to do that. I feel I shouldn’t waste it. I usually go down to the beach.’

  ‘But not today?’

  ‘No, not today,’ she said quietly. ‘Not yet anyway. I have a few odd jobs to do, a couple of letters to write.’

  ‘May I sit down?’

  ‘Of course. I’m sorry, Ben.’ Alex subsided into the chair opposite him. ‘Would you like some coffee?’

  ‘No, thanks.’ His eyes moved about the flat. ‘Not a bad place.’ He stood up and walked to the sliding glass doors, and leant up against the door frame. ‘Not a bad view.’

  ‘Yes. Sitting out on the balcony there is another great temptation to time-wasting,’ smiled Alex, wondering what Ben had to say that had him unsettled, and hoping it had nothing to do with Justin. Some hope, she mused tensely.

  Ben sat down again, resting his elbows on his knees. ‘Well, what do you think about being in the movie? Stick with me, kid,’ he held an imaginary cigar between his fingers and moved his dark eyebrows up and down, ‘I’m gonna make you a star.’

  Alex laughed and shook her head.

  ‘You aren’t giving me the right amount of reverence, sweetie. Something tells me you’re not exactly ecstatic about the idea.’ He looked at her levelly.

  ‘The boys are celebrating about it already. I, well,’ Alex shrugged, ‘I haven’t any illusions, Ben. I guess I know I haven’t got that certain something that makes a true star.’

  Ben’s eyes fell to his clasped hands. ‘I would have said you had that and more six years ago.’ He looked straight at her. ‘What happened, Alex?’

  ‘You know as well as I do what happened.’ Alex ran a finger absently along the crease in her jeans. ‘Raking it all up now won’t change things.’

  ‘I know. That’s the last thing I want to do, but I care about both of you. See it from my side. Here you are looking all pale and lifeless and there’s Justin in a permanent bad temper. You can’t tell me you’re both happier apart.’

  ‘You’ve got it wrong there. We aren’t happy together,’ Alex retorted bitterly.

  Ben sighed. ‘Justin was livid with you last night after you made that impromptu announcement over the microphone.’ He watched her stand up and prowl about the room before turning to look at him.

  ‘It was accidental. Surely you can’t imagine I said it on purpose?’ He was looking back at his hands, not meeting her gaze. ‘Ben?’

  ‘Well, I did wonder, Alex,’ he said uncomfortably. ‘We kind of turned it into something of a joke.’ He watched her carefully for her reactions. ‘Bindi Oliver was most sympathetic.’ He grinned as Alex turned back to him and he shrugged his shoulders. ‘Bindi’s that kind of girl.’

  Alex made no comment, but a familiar pain niggled away inside her as she imagined those dark-tipped fin­gers on Justin’s strong arm, those dark lips… She turned abruptly away and didn’t see the satisfied expression cross her brother-in-law’s face.

  ‘If you still care about him, Alex, why don’t you tell him so?’ Ben asked softly.

  ‘I don’t still care about him,’ Alex snapped. ‘It’s been over for six years and I’ve made another life for myself. I definitely didn’t want him turning up again.’

  ‘You must have expected that he would one day.’

  ‘Why should I have? A letter from his solicitor would have done just as well.’

  ‘You mean Justin’s asked you for a divorce?’ Ben asked incredulously.

  ‘No, not exactly in so many words.’

  ‘Oh. For a minute I thought that’s what had him all worked up after you danced together last night. Even Bindi couldn’t get through to him. I guess you had words about your, um, accidental announcement?’ Ben enquired.

  ‘Can’t we talk about something else, Ben?’ Alex sat down heavily in the chair she had been sitting in earlier.

 
; ‘Okay, Alex. It’s just that… Oh, hell! Pray that Cupid’s arrow gives me a miss!’ He raised his hands, then let them fall and changed the subject. ‘Mum and Dad are coming up to spend a couple of weeks with me, with us, at the unit. They’re flying up this evening. I suppose Justin told you about Dad’s heart attack. The change should do them both good and the weather’s ideal at present.’

  ‘They should enjoy it,’ said Alex, wishing that fate could have manipulated her to Darwin or Perth instead of this particular place at this particular time. ‘They’ll be happy having the four of you back together again, if only for a couple of weeks.’

  ‘I guess so. They’d be happier if it was the five of us,’ he added, and Alex gave him an exasperated look. ‘Perhaps we’d better talk about the film. I’ve arranged with Chris to talk to the four of you at Christie’s on Wednesday morning. The lighting crew will be going over the place and we should be able to do the filming the week after.’

  ‘It will only be singing, won’t it, Ben? I mean, I won’t have to learn lines or anything, will I?’ frowned Alex.

  ‘No, you just sing and be yourself, looking ravishingly beautiful.’ He grinned. ‘Nothing to it.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Can I coax you out to have lunch with me?’

  Alex hesitated.

  ‘Just the two of us,’ said Ben, knowing the reason for her dubiety. ‘Justin had left for parts unknown by the time I woke this morning.’

  ‘I didn’t really think you’d try to contrive to get us together,’ Alex began.

  ‘Oh, yes, I would, Alex,’ Ben hastened to put her right. ‘I’d do it quick smart if I thought it would work. However, at this particular moment I’d say the odds were stacked against it being very successful. You two are the most stubborn…’ He grimaced. ‘Anyway, enough of that. How about that lunch? I’ll even prepare it myself with these two capable hands. How does chic­ken salad sound? I’m famous for my tossed salads. My guests have tossed my salads left, right and centre,’ he teased.

  ‘Oh, Ben, you really are the limit!’ Alex laughed. ‘All right, give me a couple of minutes to change my clothes.’

  The unit where Ben was staying was on the other side of Surfers Paradise in a subdivision called Paradise Waters and the whole building spelled luxury, from the carpeted foyer, up the silent elevator, to the hallway which gave entrance to the two units on the top floor. Ben told Alex that the other unit was leased by a Gold Coast businessman who was apparently away overseas at the moment. This fitted in very well for Ben as he felt he could have small parties without worrying about dis­turbing his neighbours.

  Inside, it was all it promised to be. The living room was decorated in soft muted colours and Ben drew back the curtains so that Alex could admire the view over the Southport Broadwater, gleaming crystal blue in the sunshine, patterned by the hundreds of bobbing yachts and cruisers of all sizes, shapes and colours. The kitchen and dining areas were compact but comfortable, and three large bedrooms and a small study made up the rest of the unit.

  For a while Alex expected Justin to walk in on them, but she gradually relaxed as she helped Ben prepare their lunch. They chatted companionably about Ben’s movie and before they sat down at the smoked glass dining table Ben insisted on opening a bottle of wine to toast his latest film’s success. By the time they were halfway through their meal they were laughing together without re­straint the way they had always done when they first met.

  ***

  Hundreds of surfers were taking advantage of the bright sunny weather as they swam in the blue surf, rode their surfboards on the white-crested waves or simply lay on the warm sand soaking up the sun. Nothing much could have been added to the scene to improve it, the miles of white beach stretching along the coast fringing the Pacific Ocean, its myriad colour tones through blue to green.

  From his vantage point sitting on the low cement wall that separated the sandy beach from the footpath along the foreshore, Justin had an almost panoramic view of the entire beach. The white sand provided an ideal backdrop for the vibrant multi-colours of the beach umbrellas and beach towels. Tanned bodies glistened with suntan lotion, eyes shielded by dark glasses, noses starkly white smeared with protective zinc cream, and all the while the white-capped waves continued their undaunted assault upon the sand.

  He wore his brief swim-shorts and had his towel slung carelessly across one tanned shoulder. The few hours he had spent body-surfing had toned up his muscles, shaken away some of the cobwebs caused by his sleepless night, and beneath the warmth of the sun he could feel the minute crystals of salt clinging to his now dry skin.

  Behind his sunglasses his gaze subjected the beach and its occupants to another thorough appraisal. Once or twice his eyes hovered on a female figure, tall and fair-haired, but moved on when he had ascertained that it wasn’t Alex. He had seen the three young men from her group down in the surf, but as far as he could tell Alex was not with them.

  And even if she had been here what could they possibly have had to say to each other anyway? His bare toe absently scribed patterns in the patch of sand. For the two of them to sit down and have a rational conversation seemed an abject impossibility.

  They only had to look at each other and it was daggers drawn. Until they touched. The familiar fire leapt within him and he cursed himself derisively. God, if she only knew how close he had come to… His jaw tensed until it ached. He genuinely could have killed her last night.

  ‘I’m not interested in Justin de Wilde!’ The words spun taunting through his mind and his lip curled. How he’d love to make her eat those words! And it would be so easy. No matter how much she protested to the contrary and no matter how many young men she shared her flat with, she was not as averse to him as she professed to be.

  He bit off an angry retort and sprang agilely off the wall, startling two elderly ladies who had stopped to watch the surfers. Striding across the road, he unlocked the door of his hire car. He shrugged on a pair of board shorts and a loose cotton T-shirt before climbing behind the wheel. He drove around the block away from the main city shopping area and found the apartment block he was looking for without much trouble.

  The letterboxes were inside the foyer and he ran his eye over the tenants. Chris Georgi, Apartment twenty. He strode purposefully towards the elevator and was soon standing at the door. The bell pealed for some time before he acknowledged that no one was inside.

  The build-up of frustrated tension churned within him as he stood rigidly in the hallway and he had to deter­minedly fight down the almost overwhelming urge to thrust his fist through the door of the flat. Taking a deep calming breath, he turned away, part of him hor­rified at the ease with which he could be provoked into acting so out of character.

  He sat in his car, forcing himself to relax, trying to get everything back into perspective. His muscles were tensed like coiled springs and he took a couple more deep breaths.

  When he had first met Alex she had never reduced him to this state, turned him inside out the way she had done since he had watched her as she sat singing her songs at the restaurant in Brisbane. He felt like a dog chasing his tail, forever turning in a futile circle.

  On that particular afternoon in the sunny King George Square when she had cannoned into him and his life, he had had no premonition of what was to come. Physically he was attracted to her and he remembered the surge of success when he had convinced her to share a conversation over a cup of coffee. He knew she had been hesitant about accepting.

  The cup of coffee had stretched into three cups apiece, and all the while they had talked. Despite her youth Alex had spoken with shy but intelligent common sense, and Justin found himself totally interested in her. Never before could he remember having such a feeling of unity with a woman, well, she was barely a woman.

  And her youth had worried him a little in the begin­ning. He knew she was not a typically modern girl and although she mentioned a few young men in
conversation he doubted very much if any of her relationships had been other than friendship. That thought had put a tight rein on him, but after their lips had met in their first kiss, everything had ceased to exist for them except each other.

  Who would have thought it would have ended so disastrously? Her parents and his parents, his mother especially, had been against their marriage. His mother had made no bones about her opposition. There were too many years between them and their backgrounds were so very different.

  Maybe they had rushed headlong into it. He sighed. No maybe about it, but it had all seemed so right somehow. At least, he had been incapable of stopping it and he had had no desire to anyway.

  After their conversation in the coffee shop he had called to take Alex out every night he was free during the two weeks he was in Brisbane. They went to dinner, to live theatre, to the movies and to the Folk Centre where Alex often sang.

  He could recall vividly that last night with the clarity of his heightened senses. Until that night he had succeeded in keeping their relationship on a purely platonic level. Oh, he had been aware that each time they inadvertently touched they had both known that the river of a physical attraction flowed very close to the surface, but he kept telling him­self that he was twelve years her senior, that they were two people who had met in passing, who could enjoy each other’s company for a short time and then part.

  Sitting in the warm car, he rubbed his tense jaw with his hand and slowly exhaled. His lips twisted derisively again. So much for his good intentions! That last evening began as any other evening they had shared began. They went to a well-known seafood restaurant down in the Valley and they danced and talked. In those days they had never ceased to find a topic of mutual interest. And as they danced their eyes were drawn to each other and the awareness between them intensified.

  Eventually he had dropped Alex home at her parents’ house and, reluctant to bring the evening to an end, he had accepted her offer of a cup of coffee. The house was in darkness and he followed her along the path and unlocked the door for her.