by Jane Linfoot
He flinched as her growl of pure displeasure rolled up off the stones, and zinged straight to his nether regions. Wham. Direct hit.
‘Okay Mitchum, you win. I may need to hang on to you, but you can stop that gloating right now!’ She flashed him a searing glare, which bounced right off, then moved on airily. ‘Hey, that’s one cool portcullis you have here.’
Nice change of subject to cover her climb-down.
He flung a nonchalant arm around her, caught her waist in the crook of his elbow, thrown off by the way the huge entrance hadn’t fazed her one bit. No trace of the expected nerves or jitters in the fingers that snuck under his jacket, clamped onto his hip. There was no way any of this was over-awing her. If anyone was suffering here, it was him, and as they progressed further into the lofty entrance hall, his inner alarm bells began to clang. And now, as they were approaching the high doorway of the party room, and could hear the elegant murmuring of the guests, his mental alarms were deafening. Okay, this was only some measly reception his mother had organised, but it was the first time he had walked into any social event with a plus-one. And worse, due to the unfortunate combination of heel height and flooring materials, they were going to be making their entrance in an unmistakably public clinch. So where along the line exactly, had his indisputable Single-guy Survival rules become toast?
‘I hope you’re ready for this?’ The scent of Millie’s hair blurred his vision as he hissed in her ear as they approached the megalithic, partly-open door.
‘You bet I am, bring it on.’ Her sparky laughter faded to concern as her eyes met his, and her free hand crossed his body and arrived, uninvited, on his wrist. ‘Hey, are you sure you’re ok with this?’
‘Never better.’ Lying through his teeth, he pulled his hand away to readjust the knot of his tie, and swallowed to relieve a mouth as dry as Arizona. And how come she was so at ease anyway? He’d expected her to be at least a little over-awed by the spectacular surroundings.
‘So am I wrong to be picking up tension vibes here?’ She twitched her mouth sideways, drilling him with her best screw-the man-down stare.
Why the hell did she have to complicate every little thing?
‘You may as well know, my older brother, Finn, is the golden boy in this family. I’ve never yet done anything yet to please my mother, and I’m unlikely to break that tradition this evening.’ He gave a dismissive snort. ‘I’m firmly cast in the role of the black sheep, and I’ve never yet failed to live up to expectations.’
And why the hell did he crack and spill his guts every time?
Her brow furrowed as her eyes snagged on his clenched fists below his suit cuffs. No doubt she’d clocked the white of his knuckles, because she put one palm, flat on his lapel.
‘Don’t worry.’ Her cheek nestled close to his chest as her low words brushed his ear. ‘We’ll have one glass of fizz, and if there’s any trouble we’ll run, okay?’
She was patting him soothingly now, chin tilted upwards, eyes all smokey with reassurance. So not how he’d planned it. So darn back-to-front, upside-down, messed up. So darned Millie Brown.
‘Whatever. It’s cool. I can handle it.’
‘I know you can.’ Extracting her arm from inside his jacket, she snaked it through his elbow and squeezed. ‘So if you’re breathing again, perhaps we should go in?’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘WOW! Spectacular chandeliers!’ Millie blinked as they slid into the room, momentarily dazzled by the glittering cascades suspended high above them, and eased her grip on Ed’s arm as she stepped off polished boards onto the safety of a carpet. ‘But best of all, a floor I can stand up on.’
‘First things first.’ One raised eyebrow and Ed was back in control, a waiter was there, and a glass of champagne was pressed into her hand. ‘Have a swig, and I’ll introduce you to the old lady. Then we can get away from all these yawnsville guests and have a wander onto the terrace – the view from there is amazing.’
Secluded was exactly what she didn’t want.
‘Aren’t we going to mingle? I love parties like this, you meet the most unexpected people.’
‘Mingle?’ He cocked his head at her, with a puzzled frown. ‘You sound like you go to receptions on a daily basis?’
‘Errrr. Not so much now.’ Damn. Too much information. Her parents’ parties, their moneyed guests, her privileged past, everything she had strived to get away from, and one game she couldn’t give away. She flailed for a diversion. ‘Hey, your Mother’s over there. Is now a good time to say ‘Hi’?’
‘Good idea. I must say, you’re very chilled with all this.’
Not exactly how she’d describe herself, as his steering hand arrived in the small of her back, and set her heart thrashing. She flashed him a smile as they sidled across the room, making their way past small groups of guests. ‘Mothers are cool, I love meeting them.’
He was practically edible in a suit. She so hadn’t bargained for melting like this when she brushed up against his lapel. Dammit. She’d decided she couldn’t handle getting physical with him, but now she was having all these thoughts right in front of his Mum.
As Ed whooshed her up to his Mother, and stepped back himself, Millie returned the welcoming smile of the woman from the kitchen, and prayed her cheeks weren’t as pink as they felt.
‘Mother, this is Millie.’ Ed’s lip curled, and his brows knitted.
‘Thanks Eddie, but we’ve already met haven’t we Millie?’ Mrs Mitchum rose above Ed’s stroppy toddler act. ‘Lovely to see you again.’
‘Hello Mrs Mitchum.’ Millie extended her hand.
‘Please – call me Frances.’
Millie narrowed her eyes at Ed, who, hands in pockets, was rolling his eyes behind his mother’s shoulder. Side by side he and his adopted mother were strikingly different, yet with similarities around their eyes.
‘You know, I thought I recognised you this morning Millie.’ Mrs Mitchum still holding Millie’s hand, took a small step back as she surveyed her. ‘You’re Amelia, aren’t you? Helen Brunswick-Brown’s daughter? I’ve seen you in London at the hospital fund raisers. Your Mother and I are on the same committees.’
‘Oh, right. Er, possibly. Oh, probably.’ Millie’s stomach crashed down, and puddled somewhere near her stilettos. So not what she wanted to hear.
‘Aren’t you the one who makes the boxes?’
‘Er, actually, yes, that’s me.’ Millie ignored Ed’s eyebrows, shooting somewhere beyond the ceiling, fought her own heart trying to escape through her throat.
‘Beautiful boxes, I have one in my study here.’ Frances, smiling widely at Millie, sniffed as she turned. ‘Eddie, will you go and get me a drink please, and make sure not to come straight back, Millie and I can’t possibly chat with you standing there, gawping.’
Millie swallowed hard as she reclaimed her hand, hoping the immediate danger of depositing her lunch on the carpet had passed, and watched Ed’s back, disappearing in the sea of other dark suits. At least he was out of the way, temporarily.
‘So, Millie, tell me how your family are getting on … ’
In a blur, Millie bumbled through the next ten minutes. The chat was easy, keeping a vigilant watch for Ed’s return was harder, and when it happened she missed it.
‘Hey, you two are getting on well.’ He was already at her shoulder, his breath hot on her neck, handing his Mother a drink, and his tone was caustic.
‘Don’t take any notice of him, Millie, he’s only teasing.’ Frances’s beatific beam transformed to a grimace, with accompanying eye roll. ‘Millie and I have lots to talk about, Eddie.’
‘I’m sure you do.’
‘Yes, we’ve been catching up, it’s been great.’ Millie kept her voice light. No way could she deal with the fall-out with Ed, in front of his Mother. Delaying tactics called for. ‘But if you’ll excuse me a moment, I need to go to the bathroom.’
One place Ed wouldn’t follow her. At least there she could re-group, decide what to do
.
***
‘You’ve made us wait a long time for today Eddie, but it’s been worth it. Millie’s lovely, a wonderful choice. Well done.’
Ed, eyes glued to Millie’s rear view, winding across the room, measured the depth of his mothers purr, and decided protest was pointless. She’d find out the truth soon enough.
‘You didn’t spot her tattoo then?’ No harm in telling it like it is, just to be bad.
‘Her tattoo?’ His mother took a sip of her champagne, eyeing him levelly across the top of her glass. ‘Of course I saw her tattoo. I could hardly miss it. And? ’
‘And it didn’t put you off?’
‘Oh, don’t be so old fashioned Eddie, everyone has tattoos these days, it would be more surprising if an artistic girl like her didn’t, and it was very tasteful. Even some of my friends from the health club have … ’
‘Okay, hold it, too much information.’ And damn to how he’d misread his mother.
So much for an upside down day.
‘She’s perfect for you. I always worried you wouldn’t find anyone from the same background who would interest you, and that’s so important. The family are Knightsbridge based, her father’s something big in the chemical industry, but then you’ll know that.’
‘No, er, yes, er, obviously.’ He took a large slug of his drink.
‘Whatever, I’m very pleased you’ve brought her to meet us.’ His mother gave him a quizzical stare, just for a moment, before bashing on. ‘And she’s obviously exceptionally fond of you.’
He gulped, choked, and narrowly missed spraying his mother full in the face with champagne.
‘What?’ He gritted his teeth, making every effort not to shout. This was unbelievable. His mother had gone way too far this time. ‘And why exactly would you say that?’
‘Because of the adoring way she looks at you darling, surely you aren’t going to pretend you haven’t noticed? When these things happen, you can’t fight them.’
He snorted, loudly, as he spun around. ‘And you wonder why I come home on my own. Catch you later Mother.’
‘Well don’t run off before we’ve organised for you two love-birds to come over for lunch tomorrow!’
No mystery where Cassie got her bossy and domineering streak from, or why he had his parental-avoidance tactics honed.
‘Sorry, no chance, we’re busy all day.’ He scanned the room, trying to locate Millie, so he could check out the ‘adoring looks’ theory for himself, as soon as. It had to be a figment of his mother’s over-active imagination, didn’t it? Millie, with her serious man-ban would never have fallen for him. Hot and sexy she may be, but she wasn’t stupid, and he couldn’t have made his position clearer. His Mother’s words echoed round his head. When these things happen, you can’t fight them. That surely couldn’t be why Millie was backing off from him, could it?
He loosened his tie, undid the top button of his shirt, and ran the back of his hand across his brow, fighting the constriction which was gripping his throat.
Sheesh, it could be, it might be, and it damn well probably was. Thinking about it, her falling for him was the only sensible explanation. How could he have been so blind? She hadn’t exactly played straight about her background, not that he was in any position to take her to task on that one, and that deception had suddenly lost all significance in the light of his mother’s new revelation. But it did show that she was capable of hiding the truth. If he racked his brains he’d remember Millie’s exact excuse for calling a halt with their sex. Something about it being too explosive, and although at the time he’d taken it as a back-handed compliment, he’d been too blown away with annoyance to analyse the reasoning behind it. Okay, his immediate instinct now was to haul her outside and have this out with her, but there was no point in panicking before it was strictly necessary.
A lurch in his stomach alerted him to Millie’s return. She’d slipped back into the room, and was immediately accosted by some fearsome old dowager wearing almost as much crystal as the chandeliers. Fascinating to see the way Millie sparkled as she chatted easily and animatedly. Within minutes she was surrounded by a group of fusties, all rapt, and seemingly hanging on her every word, Millie radiant and smiling at the centre, a million miles away from the muddy, blood-stained girl he pulled out of the field. An involuntary rush of pride that she was his gushed through him. What the heck? He stamped on that one, and hard. As if she sensed she was being watched, Millie raised her chin to gaze around. His chest twanged as their eyes locked, then a flicker of softness passed across her face that had his heart plummeting and bouncing off the deck.
Despite taking every precaution to make it clear that he was not in the market for caring, she was still looking at him like that. Worse still, he’d have expected the knowledge to douse his out of control libido like a bucket of freezing water, and as yet it definitely hadn’t. What was that maddening saying about Mother’s always being right? Unbelievable. Millie might have polished up, and she might be wearing a veneer of social confidence he hadn’t seen before, but he knew that inside that she was vulnerable, and the last thing in the world he wanted to do was hurt her. So when he did manage to tear Millie away from the canapés and the champagne and the countesses, they had some serious talking to do.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘HEY, that went well, don’t you think?’ Millie tossed a smile in Ed’s direction as they arrived back in the cottage kitchen, knowing how hollow those too-bright words sounded.
Insincere, or another shining example of her glossing over the truth?
She had stretched the evening as far as she could, talking to everyone in sight, for as long as humanly possible. Safety in numbers, surround yourself with a crowd, she’d played every card in the book to avoid being alone with Ed, and having to face the inevitable inquisition about her background, and why she hadn’t come clean about it. It served her right for being less than straight, and she knew she had to face the music at some point. As Ed tossed down his jacket and ripped off his tie, she knew now it was completely unavoidable, and she’d rather get it over sooner than later
‘How the evening went depends on who you are and where you were standing. At least you and my Mother appeared to be having a ball.’ Ed threw two tumblers onto the kitchen island, grappled the top of a whisky bottle, and fixed her with a penetrating stare as he sloshed out two ridiculously large measures and pulled up a stool. ‘Take this, sit down, we need to talk.’
Ominous, but expected, and her stomach plummeting like a stone as she took in the deep furrows on his forehead and eased onto the seat next to his. A smart girl would grab the advantage and get in first. Snatching a hurried breath she launched her defense.
‘Yep, about the Amelia thing, I’m a hundred percent sorry, I didn’t mean to be misleading but … ’ Scrutinising his face to gauge his reaction, she realised her nervous babbling was meeting puzzled incomprehension.
‘What?’ He rubbed a thumb across his eyebrows, distractedly, as if he’d barely heard.
‘I’m talking about my Brunswick Brown alter-ego thing? Me not quite being a hundred percent who I actually said I was?’
‘Oh that.’ He rolled his eyes and gave a dismissive grimace. ‘Neither of us has been entirely honest about where we come from, so I guess that makes us even. End of.’
End of? That took the wind right out of her sails.
‘Okay.’ The thing she’d been stressing over like crazy all evening, he’d dismissed with a shrug. So what the hell did he want to talk about? The stone in her stomach expanded to boulder size. Men never asked to talk, did they? Not if they could possibly avoid it. Not unless they were in the tightest of corners, the rock and a hard place scenario.
‘Millie, I’ve made it clear all along I’m not available haven’t I?’
‘Yes.’ She narrowed her eyes, calculating where the heck he was going with this.
‘But I’m worried, because I have reason to believe you’re maybe getting too, er … ’ he hesitat
ed, ‘ … attached.’
Reason to believe? He was talking like a courtroom lawyer here.
‘Holding on tight when we were crossing the cobbles on our way back doesn’t necessarily mean I’m getting clingy.’ True, a night’s worth of alcohol had rushed to her erogenous zones with the fresh air, and yes, she had been seriously reconsidering her no-sex decision at that point. Blame the champagne, blame how edible he was wearing a suit, any girl would have been the same. But attachment? That was something else entirely, somewhere she would never go.
‘Not clingy. More that perhaps you’re falling for me.’
‘Excuse me?’ She heard herself shriek with incredulity. ‘I’m totally not falling for anyone, believe me!’
‘Okay, put it another way.’ He drew in a long breath. ‘Getting too involved perhaps? I’m a pretty attractive package, after all.’
Arrogance like that, and the peppering of anger in her chest exploded.
‘And what the hell gave you that idea?’ She watched him open his mouth and close it. Obvious then, he wasn’t going to tell her what he really thought.
‘This and that.’ He gave a sheepish shrug. ‘Okay, I’ll come clean – when you opted out of more sex, I assumed you were pulling back because you were starting to care.’
She bowled him an accusing scowl, watching the bump of his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed, and wished it didn’t make her tummy turn the way it did.
‘Putting two and two together and making five?’ She let out what she hoped was a derisory laugh. ‘You of all people should know I’d never get involved. The whole point of this weekend is the temporary part.’
Calling a halt because it was too mind-blowing was a whole different story she wasn’t going to expand on here, because he’d only twist it around and use it against her. As for caring – she definitely didn’t care, did she? The tiniest niggle of doubt needled somewhere deep inside her, but she couldn’t, on any level, allow herself to admit that, not even to herself.