by Croft, Pippa
‘I do believe you – I know you’d never play games with me, Scott, which is why I love you to bits.’
‘You love me to bits?’
I stop under the shade of a maple, slightly regretting my choice of words. ‘You know how much I think of you, and as for Alexander, you did me a favour. I had to tell him sooner or later.’
He looks at me. ‘Still, I’m sorry I messed up.’
‘No worries,’ I say brightly. ‘The whole thing had a time limit on it from the start and maybe shouldn’t have even begun, and it’s over now. In fact, can we not talk about Alexander today? I wanted to make it a beginning, not an end.’
He grins. ‘Absolutely delighted not to.’ His attempt at Alexander’s aristo accent is pretty good but I roll my eyes anyway.
We walk on a little more until we reach the other side of the park. A siren wails.
‘You know, I ought to call a cab and get home. My mother will be dying to hear how I got on. I’m amazed she hasn’t called me by now.’
‘I guess I should go back too.’
‘Shall I call you a cab? Or we could share part of the way?’
He glances at the gates of the park and then back at me.
‘I can’t do this any more.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This. Pretending it’s all OK, that I’m happy just to be a shoulder for you to cry on and a little light relief from the angst of fucking Alexander.’
‘Scott, I don’t understand.’
‘You’re just about the smartest girl I know but you must be blind not to see what’s in front of you.’
I’m too shocked to speak.
‘And this is the craziest, most stupid thing I’ve ever done. It’s too soon, you’re still mad about Alexander and I know I’m going to crash and burn …’ He holds up his hands and groans. ‘But, hell, Lauren …’
‘Lemonade, honey?’
Two days later, my mother places a tray containing a jug and two glasses on the table on the deck. A drop of condensation slides off the base of the glass and on to my cut-offs but I don’t wipe it off. Since my interview, the thermometer has inched up another few degrees. Even in the shade of a parasol by our pool-cum-summer house, the heat burns through the fabric until it’s almost unbearable. At least, I tell myself, it makes me feel alive.
My mother sits down at the table and fans herself with her straw hat. ‘Can you believe this heat? I’d jump in that pool myself if I hadn’t got to go to Karen Amster’s Fourth of July ball committee meeting. How’s it going?’ She nods at the pack of information the Ross Foundation sent me, which includes my contract of employment.
‘Good … it’s all good.’
‘We’re so proud of you, sweetheart. We thought you might not want the job as it came via a friend but you got it all on your own merit. Donna must have been seriously impressed to have the contract couriered over.’
‘I guess so. Thanks, Mom.’ My stomach stirs a little at the memory of that day and the revelation that turned my world upside down once more.
‘Any luck in finding an apartment in town?’ she asks. ‘Because I can get one of the girls at the trust on to it. A couple of them are realtors and have some great connections – and you don’t have to worry about the rental costs; your father and I can cover it if you want somewhere that’s more than your salary.’
‘Thanks, Mom, but I haven’t had a proper look yet …’
My mother pats my hand. ‘I know you want to be independent. I would too, in your position, but you’ll always be welcome here with us.’
‘Thanks. It means a lot to me to have yours and Daddy’s support.’ I sip the lemonade carefully, focusing on the bittersweet tang against my palate.
‘Forgive me if I’m prying, but Leah called me this morning.’
I lick my lips. ‘Did she?’
‘Yes. She’s thrilled she was able to help you in some small way. She told me you had lunch with Scott the other day, after your interview. Of course, I already knew that, but for some reason, Leah acted like it was some kind of big secret so I pretended to be surprised.’
A bead of perspiration slides down my back. ‘Thanks.’
‘So how is he?’
‘Good. Buzzed about his new job.’
‘He should be. Your father thinks he’ll do very well in the Environment Department. He could be a policy advisor in no time and after that, the sky’s the limit; he could do anything. Look at Ronan Farrow.’
I force a smile, but I might have known that Mom is only lulling me into a false sense of security.
‘Tell me to mind my own business but I have to ask. Leah said Scott was acting a little weird when he called in to see her after he met you, and that’s not like him. You know how laidback he is, even the Boat Race thing didn’t seem to faze him, so she was a little concerned. I know she fusses over him, but he is her only son.’
I almost laugh at this – as if my mother doesn’t fuss over me. ‘So she asked you to try and find out what was going on?’ I say lightly.
‘You can’t blame her. How are things between you two?’
‘They’re fine. Why wouldn’t they be?’
‘No reason … I did wonder when she said that he seemed agitated, but she may simply be hyper-sensitive. I do hope everything’s fine because Scott’s a great guy. Your father and I both like him a lot, and I probably shouldn’t say this, but he’s ten times the man Todd was.’
‘I agree.’
My mother narrows her eyes; I know exactly the word she’s about to say and it only has three letters but a whole lot of meaning.
‘And?’
I smile again. ‘And you’re perfectly right. Scott is ten times the man that Todd is.’
Narrowing her eyes at me, she sighs and stands up. ‘I think I should have minded my own business. When you’re ready to share, I guess we’ll hear soon enough.’
‘I love you, Mom,’ I say, looking up at her gratefully.
She kisses the top of my head. ‘You too, honey.’
A while later, the parasol is no longer any match for the fierce heat of the sun. My biography of Modigliani lies abandoned on the pool tiles and I can’t seem to focus on anything. It could be the anti-climax after the past term and the fact I’ve been running like a hamster round a wheel for the last few months.
I turn over on to my stomach, watching Hockneyesque ripples on the pool, wondering whether to fetch my watercolours and try and capture the scene, or whether it will only leave me frustrated at my own inadequacies. Besides, the glittering blues and the sun sparkling on the water only remind me of the sapphire necklace. A pang stabs at me unexpectedly; I can’t forget Alexander’s face when I gave it back to him, or how much it hurt me to return it.
As for Scott, I can’t decide whether he’s made my life way more complicated – or much simpler.
I turn over on to my back, replaying his words, the look on his face.
‘I know I’ll regret this – I already do – but I want you to know how I feel about you. You’ve really got under my skin this last year.’
‘Scott. You mean the world to me …’ I said, knowing that deliberately misunderstanding him was the coward’s way out. Knowing that dancing around his meaning was cruel.
‘Ah, but I mean more than that and you know it. I’ve liked you – more than liked you – for a long time. Even back in the Todd days.’
I didn’t pull away when he took my hand. I tried to let him down gently, because I’m selfish and I wanted things to stay the same between us, to cling on to that fragile balance of friendship and something more.
‘And I really do love you to bits too, Scott.’
He smiled and let go of my hand. ‘You love me to bits.’ I know, you told me that already today. Oh, Lauren, how I wish those two little words didn’t exist. The first three would be plenty for me; the final two tell me all I need to know.’
He shook his head and I fought back the tears.
‘Scott, I’m sorry
. I can’t give you what you want. Not right now, not at this moment. I’m really a mess after Alexander.’
Why was I the one in anguish? Why was I the one crying and feeling like my world had fallen apart? Because Scott means so much to me; his pain is mine, and the fact I inflicted it sliced through me like a knife.
He kissed me, on the lips, lingering, just like he did in the street last winter, and it still felt the same: lovely, delicious, warm and comforting.
Scott will always be all of those things to me, even if he never wants to set eyes on me again. He walked with me to the gates of the park and called me a cab. I didn’t want him to, but I couldn’t bear to add another act of rejection to the one I’d already hurled at him. His final words are burned on my conscience for ever.
‘You’d better take a long hard look at what you really want from life, Lauren. It might not be what you thought. It might not fit neatly into your plans, it might even scare you, but if you don’t take the risk, you might always regret it.’
Then he kissed me goodbye. ‘I don’t regret telling you how I feel about you – remember that.’
And then … and then I came back home.
Now, I shove my fist in my mouth, biting back the tears. I know this: I can’t lie by this pool for ever, however much I want to. I have to do something and stop this awful limbo.
I can’t dodge my parents for ever either, and even now I’m anticipating the rattle of the electric gates opening and my mother’s Cayenne pulling up on the drive. My father has said he’ll try to make it home for a family supper this evening, so I guess I’d better take a shower soon and get ready for the fray.
You see, I made a big decision today – a huge one. I just hope they don’t think it’s all too hasty and impulsive, but now I’ve made my mind up, there’s no reason to wait. I hope they understand; Alexander too, though I don’t know why I’m worried about how he’ll feel. It has nothing to do with him any more. Nothing I do will ever have anything to do with him, ever again.
Maybe I should tell my parents before dinner and get it over with?
I get up and dive straight into the pool, hearing, feeling, smelling water, trying to blot out everything but water. My eyes sting when I open them. Everything is blurry and the shapes are distorted but the peace is profound. No one can get me; I’m free, safe. If I could only hold my breath long enough so I didn’t have to face the world again … My lungs are almost bursting as the blue of the tiles at the end of the pool come into sight. I stretch my arm out, fingers inches from the wall.
What the –?
My mouth opens in shock as a shadowy figure appears and water rushes down my throat. I break the surface, spluttering, my nose burning with pain, eyes blinded by chlorine.
A hand reaches down to me. ‘Are you OK? I’m sorry.’
‘You … idiot. My God!’
I tread water, flailing while my eyes try to focus on the man crouching at the edge of the pool.
‘Do you need a hand to get out?’
His shadow shields me from the sun.
‘No … I … do … not!’
As my eyes start to focus properly, I catch my breath for a different reason because no photograph on my phone and no memory, however seared into my brain, can ever match up to having Alexander Hunt here in the flesh, those intense blue eyes looking down at me from that arrogant breathtaking face.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I lean on the edge of the pool, glaring up at him. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I flew over to see you,’ he says simply.
‘What for?’
He looks down at me coolly. ‘Why do you think?’
‘Making an educated guess, I’d say it was to fuck up my life again.’
He gives a wry smile. ‘That’s about the size of it, and because you should know by now that no matter what I might have said to you, I never ever give up. Here, let me help.’
His muscular forearm is gilded by the sun and I don’t have to take it but I can’t help myself. I need to feel his flesh on mine again, if only to convince myself that he’s actually here in Washington, in my garden, invading my territory.
It’s an impulse of the moment, and I don’t know why I do it or why I’m so angry that he’s landed back in the middle of my life again but I really can’t help what happens next. Just as he rocks forward on his toes, I jerk my arm back and kick away from the poolside as if my life depends on it. My arm is almost wrenched out of its socket but it’s worth it as he overbalances face-first into the deep end.
‘What – ?’
His shout is swallowed by a huge splash that has me spluttering. I know I’m for it and even before he’s surfaced, I’m striking out for the shallow end like Michael Phelps is after me. The pool’s not big but I can already hear Alexander carving through the water behind me. Heart bursting, I’m almost at the first step in the shallow end when his hand clamps around my ankle.
‘Get off!’
I barely have time to clamp my lips shut before I’m dragged under the surface, kicking and struggling. He has me round the waist now and seems to be underneath me, holding me against him but I’m thrashing and struggling. I open my eyes and think I can see his white shirt billowing, his face a blur a foot from mine. My lungs ache, I’m starting to panic and then, suddenly, I’m thrust upwards into the sunlight.
I gulp in air, water burning my eyes again. Alexander breaks the surface next to me, shaking droplets from his head, and grabs me.
‘How could you do this to me!’ I try to break away from him, but he holds me against his chest.
‘Me? Look at my bloody clothes!’
And, oh my word, I do. His shirt is moulded to every contour of his broad chest and abs, his nipples are tight dark shadows under the cotton.
‘Serves you right. You scared me half to death. I thought you were an intruder! In fact, where’s my mother? Did she let you in?’ I say, knowing that the momentary thought that he was an intruder isn’t half so intimidating as him just being him.
He grimaces in apology – I think. ‘I’m afraid not.’
‘You mean you broke in here?’
‘Not exactly. I was a little more discreet than that. By the way, your father really should rethink his home security.’
‘Discreet … Do you mind telling me what you want, Alexander?’
The moment he releases his hold on me, I wade towards the steps and climb out of the pool.
‘I suppose I should have called first,’ he says, following me up the steps.
‘Suppose you should have called?’ Water pools on the terracotta tiles around his feet. His shorts cling to his thighs like shrinkwrap.
‘I was afraid you might not want to see me, so I took a chance on you being in.’
‘You’re right, I don’t want to see you but as you’re here, a little notice so I could have prepared myself might have been nice.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I think you look pretty good as you are.’
His gaze licks my body, reminding me I’m still wearing only my bikini, and an itsy-bitsy one at that, and instinctively I hug myself. This may be my territory but I feel utterly defenceless.
He reaches out for me and all of a sudden the fight goes out of me. I look at him, I look at those eyes that devour me, and I know I am helpless. I’m so mad at myself I could weep but I know it’s something I can’t defeat, and wordlessly I move closer to him. He pulls my wet arms around his back, and presses my soaking half-naked body against his shirt, and I can do nothing but abandon myself to the molten slide of his mouth against mine.
He pushes away the strands of hair sticking to my cheeks. ‘You are very, very hot, Lauren.’
I look up at him, almost drunk with my need for him. I’m wet, he’s wet and I’m already virtually naked and I can’t help myself. I bunch the sodden folds of his shirt in my hands and press the fabric into the muscles of his spine. ‘We’d better seek some shade, then.’
He follows me into the pool house;
I close the door. In the sultry shadows, our mouths meet again, devouring each other in a chlorine-scented kiss that’s one of the best I’ve ever tasted. Alexander pushes his hands down the back of my bikini bottoms, rests his hands on my bare butt and crushes my pelvis on to his erection. His shirt is dripping wet but I manage to drag it out of his waistband.
The door rattles on its hinges and my pulse skitters. ‘Oh God, Mom could come back at any moment.’
Alexander pulls the little catch across. ‘Then we’d better get on with it.’
Thrumming with desire, I watch him unbutton his shorts. He strips them off and I toss them over the rickety Lloyd Loom chair in the corner of the hut while he deals with his shirt. Water drips off us both, tiny rivulets running down the grooves between the wooden floorboards.
I’m trembling with lust when he slips the strap of my bikini top over my head and lets it fall to my waist. I flatten myself against him, my breasts sticking to his damp skin.
‘I’ve missed this so much. I’ve missed you so much,’ he whispers.
I take refuge in the solidity of his chest because I don’t trust myself to reply. I’m afraid of showing how much I’ve missed him … I don’t want to admit it to myself or to him. His fingers fumble with the damp ties of my bikini bottoms and, muttering an oath, he pulls them down over my hips.
The wet bottoms fall on to my feet and we’re both naked. Heat beats down on the tiled roof; the place is like an oven, ramping up the sizzling heat from our bodies.
‘Oh …’
The first touch of his fingers on me sends me heavenwards. I grasp his back while he strokes and flicks at me.
‘You bad, bad girl.’
I tighten around his finger, around both of his fingers.
‘Here.’ My voice is tight, raw, as I guide him to the discarded hammock mattress on the floor of the pool house. My mother still hasn’t got round to throwing it out. Oh my God, if she could see what we’re doing on it now!
I pull him on top of me, and feel his erection brush against the inside of my thighs before he enters me, quickly and smoothly. Stifling a whimper of ecstasy, I wrap my legs around his ass and dig my heels in hard. The friction of him inside me, against me, and the sheer physical presence of him drives me wild. With his hands planted either side of me, he looks right into my eyes, watching me gasp and writhe and try not to scream out loud. My fingers slip in the sheen of sweat and water on his back, as his thrusts speed up, harder and stronger. I can’t hold back any longer, I don’t want to – but I’m scared of letting go, of shouting, of my mother walking in on us.