“No, I’ve taken up too much of your time as it is. Thanks so much for inviting me tonight, Rory. I’ve had an amazing time, but I really should be going now.”
He grabbed her by the wrist, his hold insistent.
“Don’t,” he whispered, her breath against her ear making her shudder. “Stay.”
He leaned over, leaving a featherlight kiss on her cheek, his hand gently caressing the other side of her face, the lightness of his touch sending ripples of anticipation along the length of her body.
“Okay, so pancakes don’t do it for you. What about a big fry-up then? Eggs, bacon, sausages, hash browns, the works. Come on, Molls.”
She felt her resolve melting even further, especially on the receiving end of Rory’s seductive gaze. It was late, it would be freezing outside. And Rory could be very convincing when he wanted to be. The last thing she wanted to do was go out in the cold, but staying here with Rory would mean what exactly? The clearly defined lines between them were blurring. Consultant and client, one friend to another, international heartthrob, adoring fan. She knew which category she fell into at the moment.
“I haven’t got a change of clothes,” she said weakly, looking down at her go-anywhere dress, which probably wouldn’t run to covering Saturday morning lounging around.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. There’ll be some spare track suit bottoms and tops in the spare room you can borrow.” A silent pause hovered between them. “My sister’s,” he added with a wry smile.
“You haven’t got a sister, Rory!”
Did she want to be a number added to his long list of conquests? And where would it leave their business relationship? She would hardly be in the best position to find him a wife if she was sampling the goods for herself!
“Oh, go on, Molls. It’s been a lovely evening and I don’t want it to end. Don’t be a spoilsport. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me or anything.”
Of course he wasn’t, so why the sharp pang of disappointment on hearing those words? She ran her hand through her hair. She wasn’t thinking straight. Too much champagne, too much time spent in Rory’s company, too much time way out of her comfort zone. Still, she’d come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be her client for very much longer anyway, so where was the harm? It wouldn’t matter about breaking any professional code, the company policy or her own personal boundaries if Rory wouldn’t be on her books for much longer.
His fingers traced a line over her shoulders and along her collarbone, her insides melting, and she knew she didn’t have a hope in hell.
“I haven’t had a fry-up in years,” she sighed.
This should have been his comfort zone. A beautiful woman alone with him in his flat. The night stretching out tantalizing before him. It was a no-brainer. But for once he was actually thinking with his head instead of another part of his anatomy.
He fancied the pants off her, obviously, but it was more complicated than that. Beneath that tough exterior, she was as fragile as an exotic orchid. She was prickly, defensive and guarded, but he knew with a few well-chosen words and the lightest of touches, he could have her just where he wanted her, in his arms, overcome with desire, filled with the same longing that currently occupied his every pore. But giving in to his desire would prove what exactly? Satisfy an overwhelming hunger within him, definitely. Offer a night of mutual compassion and understanding. A soothing of their respective troubled souls.
But then what? What about Molly? He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her and that seemed as though it might be all too easy to do. Hearing her talk about her ex had filled his veins with a hot-blooded anger knowing that someone could treat her so cruelly, instilling within him an overwhelming desire to take away the hurt.
He couldn’t imagine why any man would ever want to walk away from Molly. It was all he could do to keep his distance. She deserved so much better than that idiot ex-boyfriend of hers. And probably much more than someone like Rory could offer. But there was only one way he knew how to take away that pain.
His hand that had been tracing a trail around her neckline pulled her into his embrace and he wrapped his arms around her, looking into her sparkling brown eyes.
“Can I kiss you, Molly?”
Her startled expression matched his amazement at actually asking the question. Since when had he felt the need to ask? Never before. Molly had him acting out of character, but recognizing the longing in her eyes, he realized he had no need to wait for her reply. He pulled her closer, pressing his mouth against hers, his eyes gauging her reaction as her lips parted beneath his with a sweet exhalation of breath, his body responding urgently to her desire.
He ran his hands greedily through her luscious red hair, her sweet, delicious scent inflaming his passion. She was tiny in his arms, her limbs hanging loosely, her pretty features now bereft of any makeup so that her natural beauty and vulnerability radiated from every pore. Her kisses were sweet and tender and heartfelt and urgent all at the same time.
It was what he’d been waiting for from the very first moment he’d set eyes on her. To hold her in his arms, to feel her body against his. That was another first. Not acting on his base instinct. In the past, with any other woman, he wouldn’t have wasted any time in making a move, but he’d known instinctively with Molly that there was something different about her, something special. Something worth waiting for.
She pulled away, her gaze searching his, her breath escaping in tiny rushed spurts. Her skin was flamed with desire, her eyes dancing with fire.
“Molly,” he breathed her name onto her lips, his finger swept along her flushed cheek. “What have you done to me? I’ve been burning up for you since that first day in your office. It’s been driving me crazy, tearing me apart. I came to you looking for wife, but you didn’t have a hope in hell of finding me one, not when all I could think about was you.”
“Oh, Rory,” she said, pushing her hair back from her face, making a visible attempt at slowing her breathing. “You’re just using that as an excuse. I knew right from the beginning that your heart wasn’t in this thing. I got the impression it was something you thought you should be doing rather than something you had an overwhelming urge to do. Now I’m here and we’ve had a great evening and…” She faltered, turning her body away. “Well, it would be all too easy to get caught up in the moment, but that’s not going to help anyone. It’s certainly not going to help me find you a wife.”
“You’re wrong. It isn’t an excuse. I told you I wanted to take a break from the dating and it’s true I am really busy over the next couple of weeks, but it’s more than that. One thing this experience has taught me is that I don’t want to be going out meeting strangers. And that’s no reflection on the women on your books. I know they’re all lovely and gorgeous and all those things you keep trying to convince me of. But now that I’ve met you, Molly, I honestly feel as though I’ve found whatever it was I was looking for.”
She looked at him with distrustful brown eyes.
“And don’t tell me you don’t feel something for me too, Molly. Even if you won’t admit it to yourself. I know you feel it. That kiss told me exactly how you felt.”
She shook her head ruefully.
“Oh, stop it. This isn’t about us. All this”—she waved her arms around wildly—“it’s just a distraction we could have done without. I’m not the woman for you. I’m just an ordinary girl trying to do an ordinary job. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am today. Running my own business and buying my flat—it’s all I’ve ever wanted. It’s a very ordinary life, but that’s just how I like it. I really like you and I suppose I’ve got caught up in all the excitement and glamour of your lifestyle, but I know for a fact that I wouldn’t want that for myself. You need someone who could share and enjoy that lifestyle with you.”
They both fell silent for a moment, eyeing each other warily. He so desperately wanted to kiss her again, but her gaze held him at a distance.
“I don’t want that
lifestyle anymore either. That’s why I came to you in the first place. I’ve spent the last few years trying to get my life back on the right track. I’ve cut right down on the drinking, stopped the serial dating and have made a huge effort at making the right choices in my career. This, coming here to you, was part of my recovery process. I could never imagine that I would fall in love with you.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath as she turned away from him.
“What made you decide to change your ways?” Her tone and the distrustful look in her eye made him think she wasn’t convinced by his declaration.
“The accident.”
“Your car accident? I read something about it in the papers. It wasn’t too serious, was it? What actually happened?”
“You really want to know?” He looked into her searching eyes, a grimace forming on his mouth. “It’s not pretty. I had a prang. I took a bend too quickly in a country lane and ended up writing off the car.”
“Were you hurt?”
“I broke my leg, crushed my rib cage, a few cuts and bruises,” he said matter-of-factly, “but I could quite easily have killed myself or worse still, someone else.” He shook his head, wincing at the memory. “It really made me think. How would I ever live with myself if I did something like that? Your whole life changed in that single moment of madness. Really, it doesn’t bear thinking about.” He clasped his hands together, stretching his arms in front of him, taking a deep breath. “I was twice over the limit. I lost my license, but in hindsight, that was probably a small price to pay for what I did.”
She paused long enough for him to know that she was shocked by the revelation, but her expression gave nothing away.
“That must have been scary.”
“It was. A real wake-up call. My agent managed to keep the worst of it out of the press, but that was the least of my concerns. To be honest my drinking had been out of control for months. I knew I was on a slippery slope, but the accident brought home to me how close I was to ruining my whole life. I knew I had to do something if I didn’t want to end up like my mum.”
“She was an alcoholic?”
“Yep.” He tipped his head back, his gaze searching heavenward, before he looked at her again, his eyes beseeching. “It was difficult, growing up in that environment, basically watching her drink herself to death. I can’t go there again.”
“No.” She examined her fingertips, pushing back her cuticles. “I can understand that.” She fell silent for a moment, contemplating what he’d told her. “Thanks. For telling me. It kind of makes sense now. It must have been awful.”
He shrugged.
“It’s in the past, but it’s a place I don’t want to revisit. Don’t judge me on the person I used to be, Molly. I’ve changed since then. I’ve had to work bloody hard to change. Acting is my passion, the only thing that kept me going through those dark months. The fame and the parties and the lifestyle, I hate all that too. That was one of the reasons I drank too much in the first place. Sometimes it was the only way I could get through those events, the endless interviews, the parties, by having a drink inside me. I’ve had to learn how to deal with these things in a different way now. I’m doing it, Molls, but I’d much rather be doing it with the woman I love at my side.”
He slipped his arm around her waist, but where her body was yielding and receptive only a short time earlier, now he felt the tension held rigid within her. He took a step backward, ignoring the surge of desire on fire through his body, looking at her with longing.
“You’re tired,” he said, removing a stray eyelash from her cheek. “Let me show you your bedroom.” And for that performance in restraint, sheer bloody-mindedness and supreme self-control in keeping his hands off Molly, he deserved an Oscar.
* * * *
Molly woke at three-ten a.m. according to the glowing red digits on the unfamiliar alarm clock by the side of the bed, although she had only slept fitfully, the events of the evening playing over and over in her head. She stretched out her body as her gaze flittered around the room, soaking in the strangeness of her surroundings. Her whole body was coiled tight with nervous anticipation.
What Rory had told her had shocked her to the core. Not the drinking or the accident or the fact that his life had been slowly unraveling, that was all perfectly understandable, but more the revelation that he held feelings for her. Could it really be true? From the way he’d held her, the passion of his embrace and the urgency of his kisses, it would have been all too easy to believe his declaration, but this was Rory Campbell she was talking about. He was renowned for his acting skills.
Despite him saying he had his drinking under control, they’d both had far too much champagne and maybe they’d both said things they might regret in the morning. She’d never intended to open up her heart about Paul. She hadn’t spoken to anybody about that time since she’d arrived in London, not even Pippa, but telling Rory about it had seemed perfectly natural and even liberating. He hadn’t judged her. She’d seen only kindness and understanding in his eyes.
Goosebumps spread along her body and she pulled the duvet around her tighter. She looked across at her silk dress, which had served her well on so many occasions but now just looked crumped and shabby, abandoned on the wicker chair. True to his word, Rory had left some clothes on the end of the bed, a dressing gown and a gray tracksuit, which looked as though it had been designed for a very tall and skinny supermodel.
In the bathroom, she splashed her face with cold water and took advantage of the packaged toothbrush left by the side of the sink. In the drawer underneath, she found soaps, cleaning products, a new mascara, eyeliner, a bronzer compact and a box of condoms. He was obviously used to entertaining visitors.
She was under no illusions that he’d gone to any trouble just for her. Gazing at her remarkably bright-eyed reflection in the mirror, she wondered just how many other women had done the same thing after sharing a wonderful evening with Rory. But then she suspected most of them wouldn’t have been here in the guest room, they’d have accepted the complimentary upgrade to the en-suite of the master bedroom.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted it. She’d wanted it more than anything she’d wanted in a long, long time, her body had been fired up with desire for him, but something had held her back from giving in to her feelings. Rory might have shown an enticing interest in her last night, after the wonderful evening they’d spent together, and ending up in bed together would have been the perfect end to the perfect evening. Only she quite clearly remembered him telling her that was how a lot of his previous dates had gone. And that’s what had stopped her. She didn’t want to be yet another number on his list. She wasn’t sure her fragile heart was up to that kind of exposure. Her feelings for him were far too strong and however wonderful that one night might have been, she knew if that was all it was, it would ultimately leave her feeling empty and alone.
Had she ever had any hope of finding Rory his dream woman? About as much as she did of finding herself a man. If she was being honest with herself, which she could be in the darkness of the night, she’d given up on that possibility years ago. And with Rory, from day one, she’d allowed herself to get too close. Too emotionally involved.
Back in bed, she looked at the clock again—four-forty-five a.m. The minutes ticked away with a slowness that filled her veins with impatience. She wanted this day to start. To see Rory again, to see if any of it made any more sense in the cold light of day. Men like Rory didn’t stay single for long. If she let him go now, she knew it was only a matter of time before he found his soul mate. With or without her help.
With her eyes half-closed, she watched the room gradually brighten with the light, trying to fill her mind with thoughts of anything other than Rory. Spending the night with him, even if in separate bedrooms, had been a mistake. It had given her a sharp reminder of her own single status, which hadn’t troubled her at all until Rory had barged his way into her life and into her heart, she had to admit. A suppres
sed longing stirred in the depths of her stomach only made worse by the reminder of being locked in his embrace, his overwhelming masculinity worryingly addictive.
Her mind was now entertaining all sorts of fanciful ideas. It was true she’d spent so much time and energy trying to find love for her clients that she’d completely neglected her own emotional needs. Her relationship with Paul had ended in disaster but for the first time since their split she could now believe that it might just happen for her again. That there could actually be a next time for a relationship. A positive relationship. But surely it was only fantasy to think that it might involve Rory.
Later, hearing the unmistakable sounds of movement coming from the kitchen, she climbed out of bed and wandered into the kitchen.
“Something smells good,” she said, bending down to greet Bella with a friendly hug, avoiding having to look into Rory’s eyes at such an early hour of the morning. He was brandishing a spatula as he stood over the frying pan, wearing only a pair of black boxer shorts and a fitted black T-shirt that showed off his sculpted, bronzed arms to maximum effect.
The aroma of frying bacon coupled with the sight of Rory in his underwear made her stomach loop-the-loop.
“Well, I’m a man of my word. I promised you a fry-up so I thought I’d better get to work on it. Did you sleep okay?” He was smiling at her, but she noticed the almost imperceptible sweep of his gaze down the length of her body.
“Yes, great,” she said, suddenly self-conscious in the unflattering gray tracksuit, which swamped her body. She’d piled her hair, which had been particularly unruly this morning, on top of her head and scrubbed her face clean but beside Rory, in all his early morning glory, she wondered if she didn’t appear as gray and dull as the clothes she was wearing.
“Come over,” he said, beckoning her to the island that dominated the kitchen area. “Help yourself to some juice or coffee.”
Molly Matthews Meddles in Marriage Page 11