by Liz Fielding
‘There aren’t many places left like this. It’s part of twentieth-century history.’
Taking the handkerchief from her, he brushed the dust off a couple of plush tip-up seats from which the gilt had long been rubbed.
‘Would you care to step back in time and join me in the back row, ma’am?’
‘For a history lesson?’
His mouth was a mile ahead of his brain. Or maybe he was just kidding himself. ‘It may be the last chance you’ll get.’
She pulled a face. ‘Not if I can help it.’ Then, with a saucy grin. ‘Will you buy me a choc ice?’
‘The minute the girl with the tray walks by,’ he promised, and, taking off his hard hat, handed her into the seat. Then he sat down beside her, running his arm along the back of the seats, so that it just touched her shoulders. The security guard wasn’t alone in his fascination with the way her suit was cut to display her curves.
‘What we need now is the Wurlitzer organ to rise and fill the place with music.’ Her voice caught in her throat as he removed the hard hat she was wearing. ‘What’s showing?’
‘This is fantasy. It can be anything you want.’
‘Something really glamorous,’ she said quickly, looking anywhere but at him. ‘What about Fred Astaire in Top Hat? Wouldn’t that be perfect? Or one of those Bette Davis movies, cool and sophisticated but with simmering undercurrents of passion beneath the surface.’
Forget the screen. There were plenty of dangerous undercurrents right here in the auditorium, he thought, and when he didn’t answer, she finally looked up at him, her head tilted back, unconsciously seductive, her mouth as red and inviting as a ripe strawberry. Despite the grey contacts her eyes were burning hot and bright beneath a silky fringe of lashes.
‘What about you?’ she asked.
‘What about me?’
She swallowed, as if she realised that it was vital to keep talking but wasn’t entirely sure why. ‘What movie would you like to see?’
His mouth wasn’t the only part of him running ahead of common sense. His arm was fast catching up, slipping down the seat until his hand was resting against her neck, his fingers against her warm skin. This had been a bad idea. He should move. Only his fingers obeyed the thought, teasing along the sensitive edge of her backbone. Beneath his hand, her body seemed to melt.
‘No one who sat here ever came to see the movie,’ he murmured.
‘Is that right?’ Her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘This is all just…history to me.’
‘I’m pretty good at history. Shall I tell you how it goes?’
She raised a finger to his mouth, tugging at his lower lip. ‘Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much, Crosby? Just do it.’
The invitation was a sweet mixture of knowing boldness and uncertainty. Here was danger touched with the edgy excitement of the new: a step into the void. And not just for her. This had all the hallmarks of a life-changing moment, and, feeling a lot like a sixteen-year-old on his first hot date, Matt lowered his mouth to her lips, brushing against them, touching them softly.
He’d offered her fantasy. It was all he had to give and he was determined that it should be memorable. And not just for her. He had a fantasy of his own, a desire to leave an indelible imprint, a memory so strong that whenever she went to the movies for the rest of her life, whoever she was with, she would remember him.
Her arms encircled his neck and beneath him she mewed softly as she parted her lips for him, her tongue, her entire body reaching for him, soft and yielding, all woman. He was definitely kidding himself. He was building memories for himself. And he was the one who would never forget.
Kissing Matt Crosby was an experience that simply got better, Nyssa discovered, as if he’d taken note of every touch, her every sigh, and stored it up so that each time he could take her somewhere new, show her some different delight. He was so gentle, so tender, so very thorough…
Or maybe she was the one who was on a learning curve so steep that it was taking her breath away. She had never realised that a simple kiss could set her whole body on fire, make it yearn for something unimaginable. She whimpered as she ached for more, ached to be touched, held, loved, and then, quite unexpectedly, discovered the need not just to take, but to give Matt everything his heart desired.
But then this wasn’t a simple kiss. It was complex and deep and searching as his tongue stroked against hers. His fingers had tangled in her hair as he held her and she hated the wig she was wearing for getting in the way. She wanted to feel his fingers against her scalp, against her skin, his body against hers.
As if he could read her mind, he began to unfasten the buttons of her jacket, letting cooler air seep against her skin, goosing it, setting it on edge. And then his hand cradled her breast through thin silk, his thumb teasing a sharp and demanding response. This was better, this was real, and she knew, beyond all shadow of a doubt, that she wanted to be naked in his arms, to be possessed, to belong to him alone.
Even as the begging words formed in her head, as she began to slither down against him, intent on carrying through her dream, he stopped her, holding her head between his hands so that he could look straight into her eyes.
His own were all question, demanding to know if the fantasy was living up to its billing. As she clung to him for support she had only one coherent thought.
Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.
CHAPTER NINE
‘NYSSA?’ She bit her lip to stop the words she knew he didn’t want to hear. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Fine,’ she managed. ‘Great. You’re a terrific teacher. History is now absolutely my favourite subject.’
His hand cradled her cheek as he pulled her close. ‘Then why are you crying?’ he murmured.
‘Crying?’
He brushed her cheek with his thumb and pressed it to her mouth. It was wet, salty against her lips as she touched it with her tongue. Well, tears were about right. She wanted to weep. Wanted to thank him for that night at Delvering when she’d thrown herself at him and he’d had the strength of character to say no. And again at James’s party.
She’d been looking for a quick fix, someone to save her from herself, wipe out hopeless dreams, and anyone without his moral scruples would have gone ahead without a thought for how she’d feel afterwards. But Matt Crosby was different from most men. She’d known it instinctively, and even though she’d taxed him cruelly he’d made her wait until she was certain. Well, she was certain. She wanted him more than any man alive on earth. Bar none.
But he was right. The back row of the stalls was not the place. They weren’t history, they were brand-new, with a whole new life waiting for them. Tonight they would be staying at the Delvering Arms and that was the proper place to begin.
‘Crying?’ She pulled herself together, blinked a little, dashed the tears away with her shaking fingers. ‘I’m not crying,’ she said. ‘That’s just the dust getting to my contacts and making my eyes water.’
‘Then maybe we should finish the tour and check the doors so the guard doesn’t get suspicious.’ He kissed her again, but gently this time, before taking out a clean handkerchief to replace the one she’d used as a duster and carefully blotting her cheeks before handing it to her to finish the job.
‘Okay,’ she said, her voice still trembly despite her best efforts. ‘But you still owe me a choc ice.’
‘We’ll come back when the cinema’s restored to its former glory. I’ll reserve these two seats for the opening night.’
‘You really think we can do it?’
‘I believe you can do anything you set your mind to.’ For a moment his gaze continued to hold hers with a look that had her heart skipping with any number of here-and-now possibilities… Then he bent to retrieve their helmets from the floor. ‘Okay?’ he said, placing one firmly back on her head.
‘It’s a date,’ she confirmed, and stood up quickly while her legs remained hers to command, but as she moved to push past him
he caught her shoulder, stopping her, turning her to face him.
‘Rule Number One for the back row of the cinema, sweetheart. Check your clothing before leaving your seat.’ Then, with a look that made her regret the speed at which she’d moved, he cupped the soft mounds of her breasts in his hands and bent to place a light kiss between them, a pledge of more to come, before he refastened the buttons of her jacket. ‘We wouldn’t want the guard to think we were doing anything more exciting than checking out the security systems, would we?’
She opened her mouth to agree with him, but the word didn’t materialise. He looked up. She cleared her throat. ‘No.’
‘Have you seen everything?’
‘No. There’s another floor, but I’m not sure where the stairs are.’ She took the briefcase he was carrying, took out the plans and spread them out over the back of the seats.
‘It looks like living accommodation.’
‘It was the manager’s flat back in the days when he wore a dinner jacket in the evening. I wonder if it’s still got the original fittings?’
‘I doubt it. It probably had a 1950s makeover. The latest thing in red Formica.’
‘Maybe, but it’s worth a look. I may not get another chance.’ She took a digital camera from the briefcase, then glanced at her wristwatch. ‘We’re running out of time. Why don’t you go and rattle the doors to make it look good, while I take some photographs?’
‘There’s no hurry.’ He grinned. ‘As highly paid consultants we have to look at every aspect of security, and that takes time.’ He gathered up the plans. ‘We’ll do it together.’
Matt drove to the rear of the Delvering Arms while Nyssa divested herself of the wig and contact lenses. They collected the keys of the rooms he’d booked earlier by phone and retrieved Nyssa’s bag from the porter. ‘What now?’ he asked, as they made their way upstairs.
‘Rinse off the dust and change into something more comfortable,’ she offered.
‘Right.’ Changing into something more comfortable had a lot to commend it. For more than a year all he’d wanted to do was to get back into a suit and resume his life at the point where it had been so abruptly halted. It occurred to him, as he climbed the stairs, loosening his tie as he went, that somewhere between first setting eyes on Nyssa Blake and now not only his priorities but his entire world had changed.
‘And I’d better give Sky a call. We’ve got to set up a rota to keep watch in case Parker tries to dismantle the place and ship out the interiors. Can you download these photographs onto the computer while I change? I want to send them to English Heritage and the Department of the Environment, whip them into action. What I really could do with is a website. Pete is the man for that—’
He slowed. ‘Who’s Pete?’
‘Don’t look like that, Matt. I’ve known Pete for years…’
‘And you’ve only known me for days. I know. But I’m the one who’s supposed to be taking care of you.’
‘Well, you build the website, then.’
‘You think I can’t?’
‘No, but—’
‘Just tell me what you want and I’ll organise a website for you. But you’ve got to stay here while I do it.’
‘Sure? Well, okay, then. Except—’ He stopped and slowly turned to face her, and she raised both hands, palms out to him, as if fending off anticipated wrath. ‘No! Don’t look at me like that. It’s just the planning committee meeting. It’s only next door in the Town Hall. I’ll be quite safe…’ Her smile was as bright as a toothpaste ad, and about as convincing.
‘You know, sweetheart,’ he said, with a drawl that in no way disguised his very real anger at her reckless disregard for her own safety, ‘I’ve just had a really great idea.’
‘What? No, you can’t come with me. I need that webpage—’
‘I’ll kidnap you myself.’
She laughed. Then, as the smile faded from her lips and something in her expression shifted, the atmosphere in the dim upstairs hallway of the centuries-old inn changed subtly. ‘That’s not a good plan, Matt.’
‘Any plan that keeps you safe is a good plan.’
‘But what about you?’ Her voice was even, reasonable, but her eyes sparkled back at him with a flash of rebellion so vivid that he caught his breath.
This wasn’t the girl who’d trembled in his arms, who’d cried when he kissed her, but a jolting reminder that Nyssa Blake was capable of badly shaking a bully like Charles Parker, that she was a woman who could make politicians think again. Her private life might have been filled with pain, but in the public arena she knew exactly what she wanted and would stop at nothing to get it. Even if it meant putting herself in danger.
‘What about me?’ he asked.
‘How safe will you be?’ She didn’t wait for his answer. ‘Think about it,’ she said. ‘Would you tie me up, for instance?’
He’d simply been making a point, as well she knew. ‘Don’t be foolish, Nyssa.’
‘I think you’d have to,’ she said, with the utmost seriousness, ‘because I’d definitely try to escape.’ She lifted her hands, wrists together, and held them out in front of her for a moment, before apparently changing her mind. ‘No, that’s too easy. I could undo the knots with my teeth. Behind my back would be best. Of course you’d have to feed me, wash me, do everything for me… You wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off me for a moment…’ She paused, and this time her smile was teasing. ‘Are you thinking about it?’ she asked. ‘Could you handle it?’
He caught her wrists in one of his hands. Held them tight. ‘I’ll do whatever I have to,’ he said fiercely. ‘Don’t believe for a second that I won’t. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Can’t you understand that? I—’ He bit off the words.
‘You what, Crosby?’ Her voice was soft as eider-down.
‘I wish you wouldn’t call me that,’ he said abruptly, then dropped her hands and turned to check the numbers on the doors. He opened one and stood back. ‘I’ll see you in a few minutes,’ he said, and, turning on his heel, walked swiftly on to the next door.
Nyssa, fired up on a mixture of anger at Matt’s high-handedness and go-to-hell desire provoked by her own imagery, ignored the room he’d chosen for her. Instead she followed him, watched him fit the key in the lock. As he bent to pick up his bag and toss it into the room he noticed that she was standing at his side.
‘What?’ he asked. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing. I’d just prefer this room.’
He shrugged. ‘They’re exactly the same.’
‘No, Matt. You’re in this one.’ She let her bag drop from her shoulder and closed in on him, backing him into the room, kicking the door shut behind her. Then she grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him down until his face was inches from her own. ‘And you’re right. If you’re to keep me safe, you should be at my side. Day and night.’
He swallowed. ‘I’m glad you’ve finally got the message, but—’
‘There’s something else.’
‘What?’
‘I still owe you a shower.’ Then she kissed him hard, giving the words plenty of time to sink in, before she eased her grip and leaned back to meet his gaze head-on.
‘Now?’ His expression was totally dispassionate. ‘I thought you had a meeting to attend.’ He was so-o-o cool. But his eyes weren’t cool. He wasn’t fooling her for a minute.
‘I have. But I’m keeping tonight free. Make a note in your diary.’ Then she smiled. ‘And in case you’re wondering why I’m telling you in advance—’ she waited, but he didn’t have anything pressing to say ‘—it’s because once in while I like to know what you’re thinking. This way I’ll know exactly what’s on your mind between now and then. Right?’
‘You’ve got it,’ he said, with every appearance of struggling for his breath. Nyssa had some sympathy with him; it hadn’t been a piece of cake for her to let him go. But so far she’d been doing all the chasing, while her knight errant had been doing all th
e stepping back, saying no even when his eyes were saying yes, yes, yes… It was time for a little of that direct action that she was so famous for.
‘Well, good,’ she said. ‘I’m glad that’s settled.’ And for the first time in days she felt strong again, back in the driving seat. But just to make sure he’d got the message she unbuttoned her jacket and let it drop to the floor. Then she unzipped her skirt and let it slither over her hips before stepping out of it. He didn’t move, and as she unzipped her bag she looked up. ‘You don’t mind if I go first in the bathroom?’
He made the slightest gesture that suggested she should help herself. Then, with a disquieting little smile that lifted just one corner of his mouth and a look that scanned the length of her body, so that her mouth dried and her breath caught in her throat, he said, ‘Since it’s a date, I think I should buy you dinner…first.’ There was the merest pause between the words ‘dinner’ and ‘first’. A pause that rang like a bass bell. ‘What do you think? A little candlelight and champagne to set the mood?’
She swallowed. ‘Whatever you think.’
‘I think…’ His face remained impassive. ‘I think we’d better order room service.’
So much for taking control. Two seconds was all it had taken him to regain the initiative.
With a squeak that might have been ‘great’, she grabbed her clothes and dived for the safety of the bathroom, leaning back against the door to stare at her reflection in the heavy gilt mirror. This was the image she’d intended Matt Crosby to carry in his head for the rest of the day: the black silk teddy, the long suspenders holding up gossamer-thin black stockings and the high, high heels.
Then she groaned. As a passion-dampening counterpoint to the seductive lingerie, her cheeks were flushed so red that they clashed with her hair.
It had taken all her courage to put on that sexy lady show, and all the time her colouring had been giving her away. He was probably killing himself with laughter right now.
Matt listened to the water splashing in the sink and would have gambled on his life that it was cold. Not that Nyssa’s bold self-assertion had been in any way undermined by the hot flush of her cheeks. If anything, the blush that betrayed her innocence only served to fuel the hot desire that he’d fought so hard to keep under control for days but which was, at this moment, in imminent danger of consuming him.