by Sarah Morgan
Like the woman...
Nash touched the cluster of curls falling over one eye, hooking the silky weight behind her small ear, and she smiled sleepily, slowly opening her eyes. She lay there just looking at him and he was happy to let her look her fill. Her smile faded a little as she connected with his eyes, and she reached up and ran her index finger down the sweep of his jaw as if, like him, she was a little baffled by what had occurred.
‘Is it morning yet?’
‘Not yet.’ His voice was rougher than usual, stripped back and raw. He needed coffee to lubricate it, but right now he wasn’t thinking about breakfast.
Yeah, he could just about hammer nails with his erection but for a moment he wanted just to look at her.
Her hair lay about her head on the pillow like a bright halo. Her tip-tilted eyes were sleepy soft, her mouth swollen from his kisses. She appeared so delicate he would be a brute to initiate anything...
She sat up slowly, dislodging his heavy arm, which he obligingly lifted, a little surprised. But she was pushing back the covers, uncovering them both, still smiling, her eyes twinkling at him.
‘Good,’ she said.
Then slowly, silkily, she began to lead a trail of fiery little kisses down the centre of his chest, over his abdomen and lower, until he was gripping the sheet and forgetting everything but this.
* * *
Lorelei examined her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She’d done her best with the comb in her purse, warm water and a fresh toothbrush Nash had on hand in his cabinet. She hesitated as she held her lipstick up to her mouth, because the woman gazing back at her didn’t need any make-up.
She had a glow.
Soft pink colour in her cheeks, a gleam in her eyes. Almost wonderingly she touched her lips. Her mouth looked frankly sensual.
She looked like a woman who had had a very good time indeed.
Smiling softly to herself, she dropped the lipstick back into her handbag and closed it, taking a longer look at the rest of her appearance. There was nothing worse than wearing clothes from the day before, but that couldn’t be helped—and at least she wasn’t in an evening gown.
Lorelei met her own gaze again, this time a little less confidently. This was a first for her, just to go off with a man and spend the night with him outside of a relationship. She knew he probably thought, given the chaos going on around her yesterday, that the walk of shame was hardly a first for her, but it was. She was careful in her romantic life to an almost fanatical degree. Men had to jump endless fences before they landed in her bed. She’d seen too much bed-hopping and sad, needy women growing up as Raymond St James’s daughter to do anything else.
Ça va. She steadied her chin. She didn’t have to worry. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing she didn’t regret last night.
The tears, yes. She wished she hadn’t cried. But that couldn’t be helped.
She emerged to find Nash was talking into a cell phone on the balcony, the wind ruffling his hair. She was slightly taken aback by the sight of him in an Italian suit that lay close and faithful to the proportions of his fit body. He looked every inch the powerful and successful sportsman gone corporate, and here she was with damp hair, wearing yesterday’s casual clothes. Talk about heading into the morning after with a disadvantage.
Sighing, Lorelei joined him, her desire to slide her arms under that expensive crease-free jacket, to encircle his hard, lean torso and enjoy the closeness of the moment held in check by the memory that, although last night had been intimate, she was old enough and wise enough in the ways of the world to realise they hadn’t really done any talking of consequence. She didn’t have a clue where she stood with him.
She wasn’t entirely clear on where he stood with her, either. She’d gone into last night telling herself she had her eyes wide open, except this morning that pragmatism was curdled with a lot of fuzzy emotions she couldn’t quite sort out.
So she settled for lifting onto her toes and pressing her lips to his freshly shaven jaw. Nash smiled, but he didn’t make a move to end his conversation.
When he did it was to say, ‘Ready? I’ll run you home.’
Lorelei couldn’t account for the cold trickle of disappointment that ran through her veins. It was perfectly reasonable that he’d be keen to get a move on this morning. It was after eight o’clock. He probably had a busy working day ahead—hence the phone call. She had to be at the equestrian centre at ten herself. They were adults. There were lives to get on with...
Dinner? Oui, dinner tonight, and then more...of this. This was making her tremble behind the knees and other places where she was tender. But also conversation. They would talk and clear the air and...
But perhaps this was it.
‘Bien.’ She injected a breeziness she suddenly wasn’t feeling into her voice. It wasn’t that difficult—she did it all the time in social situations. ‘Can I drive?’
He pocketed his cell, gave her a wink. ‘No.’
It wasn’t until they were driving out that she fully appreciated she had made a mistake. On their trip last night she had been the centre of his attention. If a meteor had hit the road he would have merely hung a left and driven on, intent only on their mutual destination.
This morning he looked what he was: a busy man with a schedule and not a lot of downtime. Preoccupied, a little tense, blocking her out. She was very clearly being driven home. This was it.
She told herself she was a grown-up. Neither of them had made any promises, and she wasn’t really in any condition to be opening up her life to anyone at the moment...
They were on the corniche when he said, almost casually, ‘I’ve got meetings today and tomorrow. In fact I’ll be held up for the next few days.’ He glanced over at her. ‘How about I call you next week? We can spend some time together.’
Light exploded behind Lorelei’s eyes. It was one thing to tell herself this was the way of the world. It was another to hear him speaking so lightly about the intimacy they had shared... Spend some time together.
For a moment she didn’t know what to say. What was she supposed to say? I thought I could handle one night, but I was wrong. Last night overwhelmed me. I’m feeling emotions I know have no place between us and now you’re telling me you’ll call me... It’s not enough.
Her mouth suddenly felt dry, her throat tight.
‘I know it’s not ideal after last night, but—’
No, not ideal. Nothing about this was ideal.
He looked over at her. ‘I’ve got a lot going on, Lorelei. I didn’t expect this.’
No, neither had she.
He sounded annoyed, but also faintly bemused. Memories of him kissing her so slowly and thoroughly, as if the pleasure of it was all he’d wanted in that moment, assailed her unmercifully. Unconsciously she found herself running the tip of her tongue along the rim of her bottom lip.
Nash shifted restlessly beside her.
Why had she thought she could do this and not be hurt?
‘Or you could call me.’
His voice was almost gruff and she glanced over.
No, she couldn’t call him. How could he possibly think she would call him?
‘Will I?’
Nash looked at her sharply. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘Rien.’ Her voice sounded like a rusty gate. ‘What could possibly be the problem?’
He had the temerity to glance at that big silver rock of a watch clinging to his left forearm. ‘Okay,’ he said slowly, like a man navigating a floor suddenly covered in glass shards, ‘I will call you.’
‘You do that.’ She stared stonily out of the window, a thousand angry words jostling for some sort of order of merit on her tongue.
‘What am I missing here?’ he said, probably not unreasonably.
Bastard! What do you think? I’m just going to vanish out of your life?
She’d grown up hearing those sentiments. Every woman her father had disappointed had flung something similar at him—as if he’d cared.
Douleur bonne, she might never have had a one-night stand before, but she certainly wasn’t going to make a fool of herself by airing her messy female emotions now.
Non, she was a St James.
She lifted her chin. It had happened. Best to move on. She wasn’t going to create a scene. From the tense silence emanating from Nash he was clearly expecting one.
The turn-off to her villa couldn’t come quickly enough.
Nash barely had the Veyron at a standstill when she was fumbling for the door.
She swore, knowing that if she didn’t get out of there fast she was going to embarrass herself. The door gave and she shot out.
‘Lorelei.’
Nash’s voice was peremptory—the voice she imagined he used on the track, with his pit crew, not a tone you used with a woman you had held in your arms and made love to.
Made love? It had been sex. What else could it be? They didn’t know one another. She was a fool for expecting anything else...
She gave him his moment, not really expecting anything at this point, her hand still on the door.
‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ He actually sounded concerned—which was a joke.
She shook her head in disbelief. ‘What’s the point?’
Lorelei slammed the car door, and then wished she hadn’t as she strode as fast as she could around to the front of the house. She rarely used the front entrance, but anger had blurred her thoughts. It had also blinded her, so she’d almost reached for the lion’s paw front door handle before she saw the large padlock.
What on earth?
She gave it a tug. Was this some sort of joke? She seized hold of it with both hands and rattled. Then she banged even as she knew it was no use. She slammed her palms against the doors and then let them slide down and lowered her head, because it had finally happened.
Almost as an afterthought she noticed the large vellum envelope wedged under the door. She knelt down and picked it up, tore it open. She read slowly, the words like sticky toffee in her head. Was this even legal? The fact she didn’t know was all the more damning. She should have known. She should have researched these possibilities. She should have been aware.
What had she been doing for the past months? Rien. Running around, blocking out reality, not making herself available to the people who could have helped her. Her solicitor, her accountant...her friends. And where had she been yesterday when this was happening? Pursuing a man. Sleeping with a man who didn’t care a jot for her. She should have known!
Lorelei found she was trembling.
Non, she could deal with this on her own. She just needed to think logically.
Terese and Giorgio.
They would have some understanding as to what had happened here.
Fumbling in her bag, she dug out her phone.
The phone she’d been ignoring for days.
Sure enough there were several missed calls from the Verrucis and a message from Terese, she had rescued Fifi. Dialling, she got Terese’s voicemail.
Fine—she’d ring for a taxi. Except she didn’t do that. She dropped her cell into her bag and sank down onto the flags, her back pressed up against the door now bolted against her.
Strangely, she just felt like laughing. But she knew if she started it would end in tears, and crying wasn’t going to change anything.
The worst had finally happened, and it was her own decision to delay and prevaricate that had brought her to this point. This was rock-bottom.
Until she heard the crunch of gravel, the tread of footsteps and slowly looked up.
Nash.
Mon Dieu, it just got worse. Could she just once have a personal disaster and not have this man witness it?
Yet something instinctive leapt in her body the moment she saw him.
‘Lorelei?’
She clambered ungracefully to her feet, brushing herself down.
‘What’s going on here?’
‘Rien.’ She walked towards him, trying to divert him from the door.
Those blue eyes narrowed on her. ‘Clearly. I don’t respond well to games.’
‘Fine,’ she said, her voice high and airless. ‘No more games. We had our fun. I need you to go.’
He was frowning down at her, and for a moment something about his anger penetrated the fog that seemed to have dropped around her. He was pounding out big, frustrated male and apparently she was the cause.
Gesturing at the drive, she repeated, ‘Please go.’
‘Why are you trembling?’ He put his hand on her upper arm, his fingers closing firmly, as if he knew she would try to pull away.
‘I’m not. I—’ But it was too late. She was shivering so hard she thought she’d fall down. Wordlessly he pulled her into his arms and she was enveloped by all that strength and the lovely, familiar scent of him. This is why, she thought a little desperately, even as she struggled to be free. This is why I’m a little crazy for him...
‘What in the hell?’
She knew he’d spotted the padlock.
He went still against her.
His voice was very low and resonant when he spoke. ‘What’s going on, Lorelei?’
When she refused to answer he released her and strode over to the doors, gave them a rattle.
‘I’ve been locked out,’ she said redundantly. ‘The bank has foreclosed on my mortgage. I believe it happens if you don’t meet your payments.’
Nash was silent. His hands rested on his lean hips as he regarded her. Lorelei made herself meet his eyes. She wasn’t going to be ashamed. She wasn’t.
‘A mortgage? You said you inherited this house from your grandmother.’
‘I’ve had some debts,’ she said, lifting her chin defensively. ‘I had to raise the money somehow.’
She saw the moment he noticed the envelope beside her bag, and before she could move he had it open. Her stomach plummeted. He didn’t say a word, just started scanning it. Lorelei turned away, facing out to the sea view she had come to know so well over the years.
‘You haven’t met your payments in over six months,’ he said flatly.
‘Non.’
There was a long pause. ‘Do you have somewhere to go?’
Lorelei pulled herself together. ‘Ah, oui—of course.’
She turned around and her insides trembled.
Why did he make her feel like this? She hadn’t wanted to get involved with anyone. Once you let another person in you were vulnerable, and she couldn’t afford to let her defences down.
She looked into his eyes and saw his frustration and disbelief and she knew it was better to let him go.
Her chest began to hurt.
He picked up her handbag and strode towards her. He tossed it and she caught it reflexively.
‘Get in the car.’
‘Pourquoi? Why?’
He gave her an old-fashioned look and kept walking. Lorelei hesitated, but only for a moment, because she didn’t know what else to do. He held the door for her, his expression grim.
‘You don’t have to do this,’ she said stiffly.
‘Consider it me being a gentleman,’ he responded, looking faintly exasperated. ‘Get in.’
She slid into the passenger seat, her fingers like pincers around her handbag. At the moment it was all she possessed. Nash still had hold of the envelope. He was standing at the front of the car, making a call on his cell. He looked tense. She couldn’t blame him. This wasn’t his problem.
Minutes later he jumped in beside her.
‘If you
could drop me in town—’ she began.
‘Yeah, I suppose I could.’ He gave her a hard look, gunning the engine. ‘Tell me, Lorelei, does all the drama ever get old for you?’
It was not the moment to lose her composure, but the line between keeping it together and unravelling completely frayed a bit.
‘I don’t know, Nash,’ she flashed back, wanting to slap him. ‘How about you? Do one-night stands ever get old for you?’
She knew it was unfair. She’d gone into last night with her eyes open. Except she was hurting and her pride was currently being stomped all over.
He braked and shifted around. For a moment she wasn’t sure what he was going to do and she backed up a little.
‘Right...’ he said slowly.
Right, what? Lorelei wanted to ask him what he thought he was doing when he threw the Veyron into First and she was flung back in her seat as he tore down the drive, sending stones and dust flying.
At the highway he swung right.
‘This isn’t the way into town.’
‘No, this is the way to the airport.’
‘Why are we going to the airport?’
‘Sweetheart, those meetings I told you about aren’t going to happen without me. I’ve got a flight to make, and as of...’ he consulted his watch ‘...half an hour ago, the plane is fuelled and waiting.’
For a moment Lorelei actually thought he was saying he was going to dump her at the airport...until her brain caught up with her emotions.
‘You’re taking me with you?’
‘Got it in one.’
‘But I can’t just leave. I’ve got to do something about this.’ She shook the envelope, which had assumed gigantic proportions in her mind.
‘It’s pretty clear you haven’t been doing anything about it for a long time,’ he observed, giving a couple of the buttons on the console a flick. Music filled the cabin with a heavy bass line. ‘A few more days isn’t going to change a damn thing.’