Falling for Alexander (Corkscrew Bay #2)

by Claire Robyns

  She reached up, about to lift one off its hook. He moved at the same time, long fingers brushing hers with lingering, deliberate intent until she regained her senses and jerked her hand away.

  “Hmm, I would’ve thought you’d spend slightly more on your aunt,” he murmured, flipping the price tag with his thumb. He gave her a pertinent, accusatory look. “It is her fiftieth birthday.”

  Her skin prickled with indignation. Which, she supposed, was a step up from pricking with desire. She watched with rising anger as he stepped closer to a display cabinet that had been arranged with an artist’s touch. Beneath the glass, a miniature shipwreck listing on the bottom of the ocean had been recreated with pearls and semi-precious stones spilling out.

  “Isn’t it delightful?” exclaimed the silver-haired woman, bustling up to him. “Have you heard of Julianne Rosher?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “She’s a fabulous local jewellery designer and we were so excited when she agreed to exhibit with us.”

  Alexander traced a finger along the glass top, bending over. “Could I take a look at that one?”

  “Those are fresh water pearls.” She brought her smile around to Kate as she fiddled with a chain of keys looped through her belt. “The quality is superb, I assure you.”

  Reading the woman’s assumption correctly, Alexander inserted, “The necklace is an emergency gift for my housekeeper.”

  Kate spluttered.

  Alexander gave her a sardonic look. “The pearls are roped onto leather. I’m confident a lovely piece like this will persuade Mrs. Pinnings to abandon her self-imposed ban.”

  Her jaw locked in disbelief. She spun away from the infuriating man and grabbed the first thing her eyes landed on, muttering beneath her breath on the way to the cashier. Daring him to say one more word on her choice of gift.

  Unfortunately, he never did.

  Chapter Six

  And this, Kate thought snidely as she slid into her chair a short while later, is why your mother taught you not to lie. She dumped the statue on the slatted floor beside her and gave it a gruelling stare. The three-foot black porcelain cat stared back at her through glassy eyes, a creepy smile slashed behind white leathery whiskers.

  The bistro they’d chosen had a deck extending onto the sandy beach, their table shaded beneath a canvas awning. She took a deep breath of fresh, tangy air, then expelled it along with the bulk of her irritation.

  Recalling the signs of attraction Alexander had managed to control, but not hide completely, she felt even more inclined to let the resentment go. So, he’d played the game better than her. If that was because he’d had a lot more practice at living a lie, he could take the victory with her blessing.

  Once this trip was over, she promised herself, she’d never lie again. Not even a small white fib.

  As soon as their order was taken, Alexander settled deeper in his padded bamboo lounge chair. “I don’t know about the food yet, but the view is beautiful,” he drawled, a grin sliding over his jaw, his head turned to her instead of the ocean vista.

  Fool me once…So why was her pulse hiccupping beneath that hidden gaze? She bristled, although that bristle took more effort than it should have. Her eyes flew from him and landed on the useless cat.

  Maybe not so useless, she decided as a memory sparked.

  The change of topic was welcome.

  She brought a smile up to the table. “I haven’t told you about the ninth Earl of Ashley, have I? In 1902, he returned from India with a tiger. An actual tiger! My great, great, great uncle was summoned to the castle—”

  “As fascinating as your earful of anecdotes is,” Alexander cut in, “they’re not your story. They don’t tell me who you are.”

  She frowned at him. “Then you aren’t listening properly.”

  “Give me one thing, Kate.” He tipped his sunglasses onto this forehead, that grey gaze unsettling in its intensity.

  George Ashley and his gilt-caged tiger fled her brain. To be accurate, pretty much everything non-Alexander related fled her head.

  “Favourite colour?” Alexander prompted, and she swore he’d deliberately dialled up the sinful in that accent. “Eggs scrambled or boiled? Birds or bees? Sweet or sour? Not your precious town or the nefarious antics of your ancestors. One thing that’s you.”

  Kate sighed. He wasn’t asking a lot. Orange. A rusty sunburnt orange. Birds were sinister. Sweet and sour, she wasn’t fussy. And she didn’t eat eggs.

  Easy enough.

  So why was she looking at him, looking into that gaze that seemed to be absorbing her breath bit-by-bit, convinced it wasn’t enough? Because she was stuck in a lie? Because she didn’t want that to be all that defined her in those eyes that burnt through her?

  All that, she admitted reluctantly, and he’d almost kissed her. She wasn’t delusional. Any combustive reaction requires two or more elements. He’d teetered on the edge of that kiss right there alongside her.

  Because she should thank him, not blame him, for summoning the willpower she couldn’t. Because he had the grace to not add that kiss to the pulp of what he assumed would be left of her once he’d crushed her.

  “I was born a twin,” she told him, flickering her eyes past him, to the timeless swells of the ocean behind. “We were almost two months premature and my sister—Anne, my parents named her Anne—wasn’t as strong as me, her organs too underdeveloped. Her heart, her lungs… She lived for three days and then she was gone.”

  “Kate…” The hoarse voice pulled her gaze back to him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.” She hadn’t been after the sympathy vote, but she didn’t hold it against him. What else could he say?

  She’d never had to speak of Anne, not in a town where everyone knew your business without a single question asked. She never specifically thought about Anne. She’d never grieved for the sister she’d never known. It was just who she was.

  “I never knew Anne,” she said. “I don’t miss her. But there’s a place inside me that’s always been lost. A part of me I miss, even though it was never there.”

  Thank God she’d never had to explain this to anyone, because it made no sense. And she wasn’t explaining now. She was simply telling it like it was. Peeling away the layers for this stranger, this man who was biding his time to smite her down. Talk about not making sense.

  He looked at her, his eyes darkened to an overcast sky, saying nothing.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “My life is pretty darn perfect, fulfilled and content. You wanted to know one thing about me? Well, here’s the pendulum that makes me tick. I’m the girl with one half missing and yet completely whole. And if that’s possible, then anything and everything is. That,” she finished quietly, “is who I am.”

  “I understand,” he said, just as softly.

  And even though he dragged his shades down, hiding that turbulent gaze, she thought that maybe he did.

  Strip back his arrogance and disapproval.

  Strip back her frustration and anger.

  Strip back the lies.

  The same thread that had compelled her to strip back until she hit the spine of her soul spun deeper, wider, thickening the air with a web that pulsed awareness through her. More than desire. More than the shadows chased by deep, dark, elusive emotions all over the ridges and hollows sculptured into that striking face.

  He dominated every female hormone in her body and he had done so since she’d first set eyes on him. Scrap that…since she’d first heard his voice. He sent hot shivers down her spine and melted self-preservation.

  He didn’t take.

  Didn’t demand.

  The danger with a man like Alexander Gerardo was that he didn’t need to. He filled a woman with longing, with a desperate want to give, and it wasn’t all sexual. He’d asked for a morsel and she’d given her all, as if she could trust him, as if he’d safeguard the pieces of herself she’d just handed over.

  Wrapped in this moment, stripped back from reality, phantom bond
s of trust paraded as unspoken promises.

  She recognised the trap, but the lure was almost irresistible.

  One more minute.

  Then she’d start worrying about what he did to her. Why she’d allowed him to touch her in the very way he’d sworn she could never touch him.

  “Here we go, dears,” chirped a cheerful voice, un-spinning the web so fast, Kate felt light-headed.

  The woman who’d taken their order was back, a plate balanced precariously on each upturned palm and with a smile that was a tad too sunny for the mood at this table.

  The intimacy of the moment unravelled layer by layer, until all that remained was Kate. Naked and alone before the eyes of an unyielding stranger, without any phantom bonds to protect her.

  What had she been thinking? This wasn’t a lunch date. It was a delay tactic. This day had only one ending: a firework extravaganza of deceit, threats and betrayal.

  Chapter Seven

  They were on the road again, heading in the general direction of Penryn. Kate put her head back and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. After that lunch, she felt horribly exposed. Couldn’t imagine what had possessed her to open up to the man.

  As if she’d wanted him to see her, really see her, as if it mattered in the least.

  Add to that the constant awareness, a humming along her veins that was tuned in to the man beside her.

  Of all the men she’d ever encountered, why did Alexander Gerardo have to be the one that turned her inside out and upside down? He was so going to be crushing the pieces of her left behind. She’d already fallen down. Couldn’t seem to get up.

  Stuff that.

  He’d bedazzled her hormones, but she’d get over it. She just needed a little space, a little normal. Where she wasn’t breathing in his presence, enthralled in the magnetism of a kiss that had never happened.

  She just needed to wait this out. Because when Alexander finally turned this car around, it wouldn’t be on her word. She hadn’t come this far to fail.

  Occasionally peeking beneath dipped lashes at the countryside passing by, lulled by the soft music from the radio, Kate was halfway to genuinely nodding off when her heart lurched wide-awake.

  Penryn 8 miles.

  She bolted forward, glaring at the signpost as they flew past. Obviously she hadn’t fully appreciated Alexander’s commitment either. “We’re almost there!”

  “Your timing is impeccable,” he said. “I was just about to rouse you.”

  A kink formed in her shoulder blade, tightening with every mile as the beginnings of a suburban community encroached on the grazing fields either side the road. A cluster of cottages, a nursery compound with farm stalls, a housing estate walled with tall firs…and another signpost.

  Penryn 1 mile.

  What now? They’d gone beyond delay tactics and stalling. Beyond battles of stubborn willpower.

  Penryn.

  And Mrs. Pinnings? Maybe this wasn’t such a bad turn of events. She could get the facts from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.

  She chanced a quick look at Alexander. One arm resting on the open window, his head angled slightly away from her. Mr. Cool until the very end.

  Kate’s heart pounded, blood rushing to her head. Of course he hadn’t brought her to Mrs. Pinnings. In another moment or so, he was going to demand directions and she’d better have a good reason for not knowing her aunt’s address.

  Think, Kate, think.

  They veered left into a warren of narrow streets. Alexander pressed a button on the dashboard and a built-in GPS display flickered to life.

  “Street address,” he enunciated with crisp syllables.

  Kate wet her lips. Come on…think. But she’d reached the bottom of her bag of lies. There were one or two pitiful excuses wallowing in the dredges, but she didn’t have the heart to bring them out for him and she didn’t want to question the reason why too closely.

  “Eleven Darling Street,” he said with that same crisp enunciation.

  “Eleven Darling Street,” repeated a recorded female voice before stating the postal code and finishing with, “Navigate to this address?”

  “Yes.”

  A sigh staggered from Kate’s lungs. What the...?

  “You will arrive at your destination in…seven…minutes,” confirmed the GPS female.

  He hadn’t used the opportunity to trip her in the tangle of her lies. They were seven minutes away from Mrs. Pinnings’ doorstep.

  What did it mean?

  Alexander was innocent, through and through.

  Or one of his goons lived at number eleven, standing ready to welcome her with a banner. Got You!!

  The implication of either option hurt her head. Change of plans. Don’t think, Kate. Just go along with it.

  “You’re very quiet,” Alexander said as they pulled up outside a row of terrace houses. “Everything alright?”

  She reached behind to collect her backpack from the rear seat. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  He turned the engine off and unbuckled his belt. “Anything you want to tell me?”

  “Anything you want to tell me?”

  “Not right now.” He leaned over, turning in toward her, covering her body with a slow, deliberately sensual slide.

  A rush of hot, breath-stopping desire washed over her. She melted back against the seat, but the inch or so she gained did nothing to dilute the effect he had on her. He was a lightning rod and she was wired from head to toe with bolts of electricity.

  His head was slightly averted, his attention somewhere to her left. Her gaze, however, was fixated on the corner of his mouth. If she didn’t kiss him now, the opportunity would be forever gone. Her magical midnight hour arrived the moment she stepped out of the car to confront whoever waited for her behind the door of number eleven.

  Her lips tingled. Her blood itched. Her pulse fluttered. Every molecule within pined for a brief taste of this man who could never be hers. The situation was ridiculous. But his mouth was just there. All she had to do was tip forward an inch; press her lips to his. Or maybe she’d trail her lips over the roughened skin of his jaw, dip her tongue into the deep hollow…

  The passenger door beside her popped open with a soft click.

  “You go on ahead,” Alexander said, pulling back to his side of the car. “I’ll give you a minute to say your hellos before I intrude on the family reunion.”

  Kate exhaled the breath trapped in her lungs, closing her eyes as she took a moment to flutter back from that fantasy and down to reality. From the illusion that Alexander Gerardo had any right to intoxicate her senses when she knew the mettle of the man beneath. Arrogant, disinterested and detached.

  The devil himself probably had enough charisma to charm the souls out of men and women alike. That didn’t mean it would have been a good idea to kiss him.

  Something hard and cold pressed into her hands. Her eyes blinked open, flitting from the oversized porcelain cat to the sardonic grin of the man who’d retrieved it from the back seat.

  “You wouldn’t want to forget your aunt’s gift.” The underlying amusement in that drawl didn’t deter his husky voice from trembling over her skin like a sun-tipped caress.

  Shoving the statue under her arm, Kate practically stumbled from the car in her haste to boost her perspective with a healthy distance. She pinned her gaze on the brightly painted blue door of number eleven as she walked up the path, half expecting to hear the car roar to life as he sped away, leaving her to… Mrs Pinnings? His accomplice? Or worse, a complete stranger who lived at some random address he’d picked?

  The roar hadn’t come by the time she’d climbed the two steps to the door. He was probably hanging around to watch the fallout. Laughing his head off. No, that wasn’t his style. His laugh would be a thick rumble designed to thunder awareness of his potent masculinity straight through her last defence.

  A blast of fury assuaged her. She didn’t know what irked more. That he’d won this game of deception hands down or tha
t losing so badly hadn’t even slightly eroded her overwhelming attraction to the man. That she’d bared herself to him, and he’d offered scorn in return with all those intimate scenes he’d engineered for the express purpose of mocking her.

  She banged on the door with more fervour than strictly necessary.

  Alexander wouldn’t recognise an open, honest moment if it hit him over the head. When he wasn’t hiding behind his castle walls, he hid behind those sunglasses. He was a fraud.

  She banged harder, fuelled with righteous indignation. As soon as this door opened, she’d have her proof. They might both be guilty of a lie, but he’d staged an entire production out of his.

  “Coming…” The door flew inward on the high-pitched sing-song voice. “My goodness, what on earth is the— Kate?”

  A wall of shock hit Kate in the gut. She’d considered this a possible option, but hadn’t honestly thought, not really, that Alexander would do exactly as he’d promised to do. Deliver her to Mrs. Pinnings.

  Not Mrs. Pinnings with the stern bun, grey suit and practical patent leather pumps.

  Mrs. Pinnings in a flowery housedress, shocking pink slip-ons and the wispy ends of a high ponytail sweeping across her cheek as she tilted her head to peer at Kate. “Whatever are you doing here?”

  “Surprise,” Kate squeaked, partially recovering as she pushed the porcelain cat into the woman’s arms. “Happy birthday.”

  “Oh my, how—” Mrs. Pinnings’ eyes widened on the statue “—lovely. You really didn’t have…” Her small voice dwindled as she went up onto her tiptoes, looking over Kate’s shoulder. “Is that…Alexander’s car?”

  “Well, here’s a funny story,” Kate said, moving to block Mrs. Pinnings as she tried to press past. “You see, the thing is—”

  “Why, it is Alexander.” Mrs. Pinnings’ hand shot up in a small wave.

  Kate peeked around to find him striding up the path. What had happened to her minute before he intruded?