Crazy, Undercover, Love

by Nikki Moore

  I look him head-on, doing my best to ignore the tingles zipping up my arms into other parts of my anatomy. ‘No. You’ll do the right thing if you find out it’s Tony who was lying.’ I take a deep breath, regret making my voice hoarse. ‘I was telling you the truth in Barcelona. I wasn’t on assignment looking for extra ammunition, I was just desperate for someone to listen. I also needed the money, and a current reference that doesn’t leave employers running for the hills.’ What a titanic fail that was. A bitter smile twists my mouth. ‘After I raised the claim, Tony spread rumours about me around the city, meaning I haven’t been able to get a decent job since the casino. And I still can’t. Which is why I’m leaving London.’

  ‘What?’ He drops my wrists, confusion racing over his face. ‘Why? You love the city.’

  It hurts he knows me so well. ‘I’ve got no choice. I’ve no job, and Jess and I can’t meet our mortgage payments on one income. My parents don’t have the money to help me. So I’m moving back home, going south for a while.’

  ‘But you can’t go.’ He looks upset, sagging onto the sofa.

  ‘Why not?’

  He runs a hand through his hair. ‘Because I need to know all the facts. So I can decide what to do.’

  ‘About what?’ Me? Us? Hope reignites and I hold my breath. He was horrid the day he found out about me, but it wasn’t unforgivable behaviour, not in context. It came from him being Mr Uber-cynical because of his past and the world he lives in, and from being livid. I wouldn’t fall into his arms if he asked me to. Not straight away. But I might give him, and us, a chance if he said he was sorry, and meant it.

  He goes still, expression distant. ‘About your case. About Tony. If you’re telling the truth I have to do something about him.’

  ‘And what if you end up thinking I’m the liar after all?’

  ‘Then I can walk away with a clear conscience, knowing everyone’s been treated fairly.’

  ‘I see.’ This visit is only about professional pride. He needs to know who’s being truthful. It’s about his principles, honour, doing what’s right. I fight the urge to rub my burning eyes. It’s not personal. It’s not about wanting to see me or missing me or to say he made a mistake in Barcelona when he forced me to leave.

  ‘I didn’t mean to upset you, Charley.’

  ‘You haven’t.’ My laugh is hollow. ‘I’m just tired. Which is why I’ll tell you everything now – so you can make up your mind and then get on with your life.’ The thought causes a slow agony to creep along my nerve endings.

  ‘Good. I– Any chance of a coffee while I listen?’

  ‘Fine.’

  Bringing two cups of hot strong liquid velvet in from the kitchen a few minutes later, I feel better. Making coffee has given me time to push away some of the turmoil. I need to be clear and concise and firm. Because I want him to believe me. God, do I want him to, so much.

  Settling across from him, my drink goes cold as I tell him everything. What happened, what I did, how I felt, what it cost me. It’s emotional and hard, and at times my voice shakes and I struggle to get the words out. My nose tingles with suppressed tears and I gulp back regret until it’s a sharp ache at the back of my throat. Alex sits and listens intently, eyes focused, occasionally sipping his coffee.

  ‘That last conversation with Tony you overheard in the suite,’ I say, almost finished, ‘was me trying to get him to back off. I was scared and I felt vulnerable. I also couldn’t let him walk away thinking he’d won. Again.’ Glancing up, I brush my fringe from my eyes. ‘But I promise completely and absolutely what I said wasn’t true. It wasn’t about the claim. The very last thing I expected was to sleep with you and when I did, it wasn’t to get anything from you. I was … caught up in it. Our chemistry took me totally by surprise.'

  ‘Yes,’ he admits quietly. ‘Me too.’

  His comment makes me brave. ‘Alex?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You didn’t have to come here.’ He raises his eyebrows quizzically and I go red. I haven’t blushed once since I last saw him, but here I go again. ‘I mean, you could have phoned. Was there a specific reason for seeing me?’ I try not to look hopeful, or like I’m asking for anything.

  He frowns, ‘I needed to see your face when you told me. To decide if you were sincere or not.’

  ‘Oh,’ I croak.

  Sharp disappointment pins me to my seat. I can’t move, something heavy settling behind my rib cage. It’s messy, it’s complicated and it’d probably never work out but I wanted to know if our heady time together in Barcelona was a one-off or something real. Not that it matters. I leave the city next weekend and I don’t think Alex is the type to have a long-distance relationship. And it’s coming through loud and clear that if he liked me in Barcelona, it’s not how he feels now. It’s too late. I blew it. And he did too, by not stopping to listen.

  Springing from the sofa, I swallow to get my voice working. ‘Well, now you’ve done that you can go.’ I need him gone. Before I embarrass myself. ‘Thanks for popping in.’ I fling open the lounge door and point down the hallway. ‘You must have loads of important things to do.’ Hint, hint get out.

  ‘I haven’t finished my coffee yet.’

  ‘I just remembered that I have somewhere to be,’ I blather wildly, checking my watch, ‘so if you don’t mind.’ I make a shooing motion.

  ‘I’m not a sheep, stop herding me,’ he mutters ruefully, but places his cup on the table and walks down the hall. ‘Still, I get the message. I’m going.’

  I open the door. ‘Sorry about the coffee.’

  He stops in the doorway and turns, searching for something in my expression. ‘I’ll go then.’

  ‘Yes,’ I nod, switching my attention to my scarlet toenails.

  ‘I’ll call you with my decision after I’ve spoken with Tony.'

  I want him to believe me without talking to bastard-face. I want him to look inside me and see I’m telling the truth. But why should he when from the very first moment we met, I deceived him? When his last serious relationship taught him people use him for his status and wealth? I’m expecting too much. ‘There’s no need,’ I say brightly, fixing my gazed over his left shoulder. ‘Just pop it in the post in writing. Jess can forward it if necessary.’ I don’t want to see you or hear your voice again, it would be too much. ‘And if you find in the end you believe me,’ I gulp, ‘promise to deal with bast– Tony appropriately.’

  ‘I will.’ It sounds like a vow.

  ‘Good. Bye then.’

  His palm against the door stops it swinging shut.

  ‘Charley, I’d much prefer it if—’

  ‘Alex.’ I bite, and he freezes. ‘I appreciate you tracking me down to hear me out, but please go. Now.’

  ‘Just one thing,’ he says, holding the door against my attempts to push it closed.

  ‘What?’ I growl, exasperated.

  ‘I just wanted to say that,’ he rubs the back of his neck, ‘I wish things were different.’

  Staring into his lovely blue eyes: ‘Me too,’ I mutter. ‘Goodbye, Alex.’ As soon as he drops his hand, I swing the door shut with a resounding thud.

  There’s a long silence before I hear his footsteps walk away.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  I slide slowly to the floor against the wall once he’s gone, staring at the carpet between the frayed cuffs of my jeans. Tears blur my vision and a ball of hurt unfurls in my chest. My head droops forward like a flower deprived of oxygen and light. The sorrow is raw and fresh, like a scab pulled off a healing wound.

  Alex is a good guy at heart, but damn him for coming here. For bringing everything back; what I did and what we might have been to each other if we’d met in another time and place. Big fat tears roll down my face and I wrap my arms round my upraised knees, holding myself together. I want to howl, but am afraid if I start I won’t be able to stop. So I sit there, and I realise it can’t be infatuation. Not if I’m this devastated. But I can’t let another guy wreck me lik
e Tony did, though in polar opposite ways, one with sweetness and the other with darkness.

  ‘No. You’re moving on, remember? Get up, Charley. This second.’

  Pushing up from the floor, I breathe through my mouth so I don’t inhale his scent as I stride into the lounge. Bugger. He’s forgotten his coat. Oh well, he’s likely got hundreds of the things, he can buy another one easily enough. If not, I can parcel it up and ask Jess to drop it into head office. Folding it, I shove it into the hallway cupboard, out of sight, out of mind. If only I could do that with its owner.

  Returning to the lounge, I scoop our mugs up and put them in the sink, trying not to rub my thumb along the rim where Alex’s lips touched it, because that would be juvenile. I rush down the hallway to my bedroom to start boxing up more stuff. Keep moving, keep doing and you’ll be okay.

  Twenty minutes later the doorbell rings again. Leave me alone, I groan under my breath. I wait, hoping if I keep quiet they’ll go away.

  Another ring and then a sharp knock and then, ‘Charley, open up,’ Alex’s impatient voice orders. ‘I know you’re still in there. I’ve been outside for almost half an hour and you never left.’

  God, will this torture never end?

  ‘So you’re stalking me now?’ I walk into the hallway and call through the door. ‘What do you want? Have you come back for your coat?’

  A mutter of disbelief is swiftly followed by an odd laugh. ‘No. I didn’t even realise I’d left it.’

  ‘What then?’ I demand, wrenching open the door.

  ‘I’ve been sat outside in the car thinking.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And I can’t leave it like this now I’ve seen you.’ He leans against the door frame like it’s propping him up.

  ‘Leave what like what? You told me what your plan is, we agreed you can write with the outcome. It’s fine. Whatever you decide Alex, I’ll accept. I told you, I’m getting on with my life.’

  ‘Us. Leave us like this,’ he states softly, stepping forward and rubbing his thumb along my forehead. ‘Smudge of ink.’ He breathes when I raise questioning eyebrows. His eyes go hot and dark.

  I stumble back against the opposite wall. ‘There is no us. That was obvious when you sent me home so swiftly. And you were pretty clear earlier that you came here for professional reasons, not to see me because you wanted to.’

  ‘Then it was me who lied this time. I was scared. Am scared,’ he says boldly. ‘It would be a big risk for me to get involved.’

  What’s he saying? That he wants to be involved with me, or can’t be? I gulp, stupid hope fluttering in my stomach like a flock of birds launching into flight. ‘That’s right,’ I say softly. ‘Because everything I said today could be a lie. I could be exactly like Louise.’

  ‘But I don’t think it is, and I don’t think you are,’ he stuns me by admitting. ‘We shared something that weekend and you were honest and open, warm and unguarded with your opinions. You were concerned about me, you wanted to help. I don’t think you can fake that, even if there were things you weren’t telling me. More than that,’ his mouth spreads into the crooked smile I love so much, ‘I think you liked me, just for me.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘I know.’ Stepping over my threshold and closing the door with a quiet click: ‘Did you? Do you?’

  I tug the bottom of my top down, twist nervous fingers in it. He’s asking me to make the first move, roll the dice and see where it lands, but I’m not sure I can. ‘Even with your cynicism and your mistrust of female staff and your need to keep any relationship private because of Louise playing games and that I might be a liar … you still want to know the answer to that question?’

  ‘Yes,’ he answers, looking very serious and intense and far too sexy.

  ‘Even though you haven’t spoken to Tony yet and heard his version of events?’

  ‘Yes!’ Sliding closer, he crowds me up against the wall and grabs hold of my face in both hands so I have to look at him. ‘Just try, Charley. Try. I’ve had weeks to think about that weekend, about you. Wondering if my instincts in Barcelona were off, debating whether I should follow logic or gut feeling.’ His touch changes, fingers pushing through my hair. ‘I’m ashamed to say I hoped you’d complain to the agency so I could write you off completely. But you didn’t and I couldn’t let it go, couldn’t forget you, so I went down to the casino and…’

  ‘What is it, Alex?’ I whisper, super aware of his touch, but more concerned with his words.

  Taking a deep breath, he tilts my face upwards. ‘I think we might be a risk worth taking. So answer my question will you, put a guy out of his misery. Do you like me just for me, or not?’

  ‘What were your instincts about me? And what about the clause and bad press because you’re going against it?’

  Groaning in mock frustration: ‘Instincts? That you make me feel better. About everything. You understand me and don’t see the CEO thing as either a bonus or a barrier. That I should trust you because you’re different from other women. Good different. Clause? You’re not an employee, and even if you were, I’ve decided I really don’t care.’

  ‘Oh,’ I squeak, relief and joy thundering through me. ‘In that case—’ I shove him backwards and our bodies crash into the other wall as I push in and kiss him, hot and deep, throwing all of my craving for his glorious body and sexy sweetness into the connection between our mouths.

  I want him so much. I’ve missed this, missed him. It feels so good, so right when he lifts me in his arms, big, warm, demanding hands on my hips, kissing me like he’ll never stop. My pulse goes crazy, my breathing shallow as I cling onto him.

  He sets me on my feet but keeps holding me tight and our clothes fall in heaps and puddles along the hallway as we strip each other, needing to get closer, needing naked skin. Alex runs sweltering kisses down my throat, bends his head to my breasts to nip and lick his way down to suck my nipples and I can hardly breathe. Hurried hands grasp and massage and grab.

  ‘Bedroom?’ he pants against my mouth.

  Throwing my arm out to the side in a half-hearted gesture, I take his lovely, kissable lips again, begging for more. Yet, as Alex walks me backward into the bedroom, I can feel a change. He slows down, lightens the touch of his hands round my waist, lifts his mouth a fraction, and when he stands back to look at me and brushes my fringe out of my eyes, it reminds me of our last time together in Barcelona before our argument. The tension, the silence, the sense it meant something more than simply glorious sex. The feeling we had an amazing connection.

  I look him up and down. We’re in our underwear, and though he looks a little leaner, he’s as ripped as ever, shoulders broad and well developed, thighs muscular and hairy, and his erection straining against his jockey shorts. I’m panting too, heaving, sweat gathering along my nape, knickers damp with need. I’m enough of a modern girl to know I don’t need a man to survive, but having a relationship for the sake of it and wanting a particular guy to be happy are two different things. And I want Alex. He’s my guy, I realise. It’s not just like. I don’t just want to keep having spectacular sex with him.

  I fell for him in Barcelona.

  I’m in love with him.

  As crazy as it is, it’s the truth. Kind of love at first sight, but strung out over one life-changing weekend.

  So I do the hardest thing. I put my hand against the twin wings of his graceful collarbones and push him lightly away, my fingertips skimming along his smooth tanned skin.

  ‘I can’t.’ I shake my head, gulping. ‘I’m sorry, but I just can’t.’

  ‘You can’t? You’re not playing games with me, are you Charley?’ His eyes gleam as he waits for me to explain myself.

  ‘No! No way. But, I’m sorry. I can’t do this,’ I flick a hand between our bodies, ‘again, until everything is resolved. If it goes wrong … well.’ I can hardly tell him it’ll hurt too much because I love him, not when he’s only talked about like and being involved. I mean, what does he even want? F
riends with benefits? Dating? A more serious relationship? Is he even free to have a relationship, with his ex’s scrutiny of him? Would he do the commuting thing, given I’m soon back home?

  He’s said some nice stuff about a risk worth taking, but how does he actually feel about me? I don’t know, and I’m not ready to ask. What I do know is I’ve already given too many pieces of myself to him and can’t give any more. ‘There can’t be any more lies or misunderstandings or uncertainty,’ I offer at last, crossing my arms over my boobs. ‘So I guess you’ll be going now.’ That sex is off the table, I finish silently.

  But, instead, the gleam in his gaze increases to approval and he gives me another world-shaking, crooked smile.

  ‘It kills me to say it,’ he looks down at his bulging shorts and shakes his head wryly, ‘but I understand. And I agree. I need to resolve what happened between you and Tony. And I’m on the cusp of finally signing the divorce papers. We should wait, if only for a few days. Then we can talk properly about everything. And I’m going, but only because I can’t promise to keep my hands off you if I don’t.’ He pauses. ‘Come here.’ Bringing me in for a quick, hard hug, he drops a kiss on my mouth, squeezes my bum, then leads me down the corridor so we can gather our clothes and get dressed, sharing smiles. It is so unbelievably sweet he’s willing to wait, and wants to, that I almost drag him back to my room and tell him I’ve changed my mind.

  ‘I’ll be in touch,’ he says five minutes later, as he backs out the front door, making me giggle when he pops back round it and steals a last hot, sloppy kiss. ‘I promise.’ He taps me on the nose, ‘Stay out of trouble.’

  After he’s left, I sink back against the door, taking in long, deep breaths. He is so adorable and I’m head over heels. I laugh at his last comment. Never mind what he said – I’m already in trouble.

  Chapter Twenty Six