by Exley Avis
The mask slipped momentarily and Aiden smiled. “Why? Is it that terrible?”
“How dare you! My producer says it’s the best thing I’ve ever done.” Erika smacked his arm playfully, trying to look cross. “I’m really proud of it.”
“So why do I need to be alone?”
Here Erika hesitated until she reminded herself there was really no point in flying across an ocean to deliver a message and then losing her nerve at the last minute.
“I want you to concentrate on the lyrics because the album tells a story,” she said at last, before adding hesitantly, “Our story.”
“Does it have a happy ending?”
“I don’t know yet. But if it were up to me, it would have.”
She left the idea hanging, thinking she couldn’t be more obvious. Frustratingly, Aiden didn’t take the bait. Instead, he threw an equally difficult question at her.
“Does this mean you’ve finally figured everything out and now have all the answers?”
Erika wished it were that simple and half laughed. “No. Only a lot more questions.”
“Did you understand any of it?” The tiger’s eyes flashed dangerously for a moment. “Because I don’t think I ever have.”
“All I know for certain is that you’re in every note and lyric. You’re all I thought about from the minute you left. I missed you, Aiden.”
Daring to glance back at him, she caught him off guard and saw the briefest of smiles but it was enough. Love rushed in on Erika, driving out any sense of caution.
Without thinking, without hesitating a moment longer, she lay her heart on the line by adding,
“I told you I loved you a year ago. I still do.”
Chapter Eleven
Within a heartbeat it became obvious that Aiden didn’t intend welcoming Erika back with open arms. The chink in his armour closed tightly and the defences came back up – as unassailable and as impregnable as the mill’s front door.
Leaving her standing on the balcony, Aiden walked back inside to put down the CD, keeping his back to Erika as he braced his arms against the piano and drew some deep breaths, his head hanging forward and his shoulders tense.
Erika didn’t know whether she should follow him inside. Or even whether it would be better to leave.
Here it comes, she thought. Every curse he’s wanted to visit on my head for the last year and every recrimination for breaking his heart. Not that I don’t deserve it.
She steeled herself.
But when Aiden spoke, his gentleness unsettled her far more than his anger ever would have done.
“I couldn’t get you out of my head either,” he admitted quietly, turning back to her. He rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar sign of uncertainty. “I thought about you all the time, especially when I was working here. You’re in every brick and timber of this place. Sometimes I feel your presence here so strongly I think a ghost has walked through the room.”
Erika shuddered at the thought. “Doesn’t that make you uncomfortable?” she asked but Aiden shook his head.
“Exactly the opposite. In the first few months without you, when I couldn’t think straight, this was the only place I found any comfort. I remembered us lying by the pool, planning what we’d do with each room, so working here was a way of continuing that conversation.”
He stared down at his bare feet, shrugging almost imperceptibly. “Now there’s too much of you here and I’ve decided to sell.”
Erika moved beside him in an instant. The thought of letting such a beautiful house go appalled her, particularly after the emotional investment Aiden had made in it. “You can’t sell,” she said. “It’s perfect.”
“What’s the point in holding on?” Anger flared as Aiden looked at her. “It’s literally a millstone around my neck, chaining me to the past.”
The doubt had fallen away to be replaced by the same imprint of loneliness and loss Erika had seen countless times in her own mirror and guilt sliced through her at the pain she’d caused him.
“Not everything about our past was terrible.” Her fingers stretched to touch him but she thought better of it. “We were wonderful together. Surely that’s worth remembering.”
“Why?” He glared. “So I can lie awake in this big empty house torturing myself about what I don’t have?”
Anger drew his mouth into a hard line and his eyes narrowed. Erika saw the tumble of words forming behind his compressed lips, bringing the realisation that, while she’d had Ben and Richard to help her through every desperate hour, Aiden had had no one to confide in. Twelve months’ worth of anger and heartache had probably never really been dealt with, but had festered and increased his pain unbearably.
Aiden’s stricken expression told her she was right and shame flooded through her. This and guilt drove her feet toward the door.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have turned up like this,” she said, hurrying away from him. “It wasn’t fair of me.”
She pushed past him, head down and charging for the hallway but, in a split second, Aiden had moved in front of her, blocking her exit and forcing her to look up at him.
“Don’t go,” he said for the second time that morning, his throat tense and his voice uneven. He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I…” He faltered but quickly regained control. “Just don’t go. Not yet.”
His smile was tentative, his eyes searching her face for some emotion to react to. Erika returned his smile with as much confidence as she could muster, praying he didn’t notice her cheek muscle fluttering nervously.
“If I’m staying I’d like to look around,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even and hoping something else to talk about, would give them time to grow used to being in the same room again. “Who knows, I might even buy the place.”
Aiden must have been holding his breath because he exhaled sharply. “Shall I make you the coffee you dropped such subtle hints about too?”
“Yes please. I’d like that very much.”
Erika followed him along the balcony, through French doors and into a vast kitchen that ran the depth of the house. It felt like walking into a fantasy, every detail of the room mirroring the kitchen they’d created in their minds. White painted cabinets, black granite surfaces, an old-fashioned range and a huge refectory table upon which the morning’s newspapers were spread.
“Oh, Aiden. It’s beautiful,” she gasped, mentally laying the table with colourful china and putting cushions on the chairs. “This would be fabulous for big Sunday lunches, or late night suppers with friends.”
“Steady on,” he said, setting a coffee down in front of her. “I only know the postman and the woman in the village shop. It’s not exactly rock and roll.”
He gave a sexy, throaty laugh that reminded Erika of long, lazy mornings in bed when she’d had her head on his chest and his laughter had rumbled in her ear.
Her bones tingled at the memory and she ached to feel his lips on hers again.
Aiden’s T-shirt gaped slightly when he sat down, begging Erika to slip her hand inside and caress the hairs on his chest. The sun pooled on the table, turning his forearms golden and she saw the dark hairs had started to bleach now summer was setting in. He had sexy arms, strong and powerful and yet still able to hold her with such tenderness. She looked up at him and he smiled, making her wonder if he were reliving the same memories.
Leaning over to look under the table, Aiden’s eyes ran slowly down Erika’s bare legs to her feet and he laughed again. “I promised to take care of you, even if you were barefoot and bankrupt, but I never really thought I’d need to.”
She stuck out one long leg and wriggled her toes. “One out of two’s not bad. Thanks to you, I can afford to buy this place ten times over now.”
Dragging her attention away from the sensual curve of Aiden’s lips and the way his fingers twitched as if wanting to run his hand, not his eyes, down her leg, Erika took stock of the room. If this were her house, she’d put a big sofa near the window overloo
king the garden and a vase of pale peonies on the end of the worktop. There’d be a cat, of course, muddy walking boots in the corner and a stack of well-thumbed recipe books on the dresser. It wouldn’t take much to make it feel like her home.
It suddenly occurred to her that she’d never seen Aiden in his own place and said so. “When we first got together, you spent all your time in Yorkshire.” On her only visit to London she’d found him in bed with Little Miss Naked but mentally walked around the thought. “The second time, I only saw you in hotels, or at Ben’s place.”
She took in the small signs that marked this place out as Aiden’s. His favourite coffee. His iPod docked on its charger. His car keys dropped down next to the kettle. Everything arranged to suit only him.
“Where’s home for you now?” he asked.
Hopefully, wherever you are, she wanted to say but held the thought back. “I’m renting in Clerkenwell while I sort out the charity but I don’t want to be in London long. Eventually I want something like this.”
“Then try this one on for size if you’re serious about buying it.” Aiden got up and took a set of keys from a drawer. “I’m going away for a couple of months. You could house-sit.”
“Thanks. I might just do that.” He obviously didn’t mind her being there.
“You could even add the feminine touches you’ve been fantasising about,” he said, grinning at her guilty expression. “I could see your mind working just now.”
Heartened by Aiden’s ability to still read her mind, Erika laughed. “I don’t see you as the chintz cushion type somehow.”
“You never know. Try me.”
There it was again. The slow look lingering across her shoulders and down to her hips – remembering, refreshing his memory and mentally undressing her.
She couldn’t pretend she didn’t like it.
Aiden stood up and surprisingly held out his hand to her. “Let me show you the rest of the place. You ought to see what you’re buying.”
Without hesitating, Erika put her hand in his and felt his fingers close unfalteringly around hers, holding fast. His hand felt warm and there was the rough skin of a healed blister in the centre of his palm. Once upon a time she’d have known how it got there and been ready to kiss it better. Instead, it had healed without her touch and the idea saddened her.
Perhaps his heart had healed without her too.
Aiden led her back into the old milling room and up a wide oak staircase to the first floor. Too late she wondered if another woman might be in evidence upstairs and prepared herself for the tell-tale signs that Aiden had indeed healed and moved on.
When they reached the landing Erika couldn’t resist leaning over the balcony rail to see the piano far below and Aiden moved behind her to look out over her shoulder, standing far closer than he needed to. She wondered how he’d react if she leaned back against him, or pulled his head down to kiss her shoulder and wished she had the courage to put it to the test.
“I put the piano where you wanted it,” Aiden said, moving a stray strand of hair off her shoulder. “But I imagine it’s very lonely in its corner with no one to play it. I thought about learning but didn’t want to insult such a fine instrument with beginners’ scales.”
Erika laughed at the idea of a grand piano with feelings. “Maybe I’ll whip up a concerto on it later to improve its self esteem,” she offered, all the while trying to ignore the brush of Aiden’s bare arm against hers.
Was it her imagination playing tricks or was Aiden taking every opportunity to touch her? Covert glances up and down her body. The press of his hips against hers. His hand on the small of her back, turning her around so he could point out over her shoulder, his cheek close to hers.
“I’ve left in the original machinery,” he explained, showing her the wheels and shafts that still pierced the mill’s stairwell all the way up to the rafters. “I’ve used reclaimed materials wherever I could.”
Erika, however, was busy reclaiming a hundred different erotic memories of how it felt to be that close to Aiden. It became impossible to concentrate on anything other than the warmth of his body only inches from hers and the waft of his breath across her bare shoulder that told her he’d stolen a peek down the front of her dress.
She imagined his hands running up each thigh and lifting her dress. He’d slip the straps off her shoulders to free her breasts before he pulled down her underwear just enough.
Or perhaps he’d be too impatient and only push her panties to one side before he entered her from behind; holding her hips steady while he thrust long and hard into her soft pussy.
Her heart quickened. The warm, sleepy scent she’d smelled when she’d first kissed him enfolded her again and she inhaled deeply, letting her imagination run riot. In one movement she could have turned and put her arms around him, and the temptation to do so was unbearable, but she wanted to let Aiden dictate the pace.
After all, her turning up unannounced was surprise enough for one day. She didn’t want to drive things too fast in case she’d misread the mixed signals Aiden was sending out.
As if reading her thoughts, Aiden’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her against him gently to direct her attention elsewhere and Erika yielded without hesitation. He spoke rapidly, excitedly explaining how the renovation had worked, and betraying his passionate emotional and physical involvement with the building. When he explained something about the roof timbers, Erika tilted her head right back so it rested against his shoulder, her neck exposed. In another life he would have kissed it – casually, almost as a reflex – but he merely looked now, his breath barely grazing her skin.
Without warning, he let her go, the movement so sudden Erika slightly lost her balance. Turning to look for him, she saw he’d already walked away into the first-floor living room and she stared after him, rubbing her arms at the sudden loss of his body heat.
“I haven’t spent a great deal of time here,” he explained when she caught up. He pointed to a stack of pictures on the huge dining table in the next room. “I’m either watching TV downstairs or here in my study.”
He opened the final door off the landing. While the rest of the mill felt unoccupied, the study was crammed with Aiden’s papers, favourite books and photographs. The blueprints of his first building project were framed on the wall above the leather sofa, his phone lay charging on the desk and a sweater had been tossed across a chair. There were pictures of him everywhere; on holiday, up scaffolding, or with friends Erika had never met.
“Who are these people?” she asked, picking up a photograph of Aiden in a group preparing for a parachute jump. His confident laugh made her smile and she wished she’d been there to share his excitement.
“My sister.” He pointed to a dark-haired beauty with a strong resemblance. ”Two colleagues and an old school friend. Then my lawyer, Radford Byrne, and his girlfriend.”
Erika stared at the attractive couple, envying their freedom to have a relationship outside the public eye, and wondering whether they’d have become good friends of hers too.
In a perfect world.
She replaced the picture and looked across at Aiden. Just as her pulse stilled whenever she sat down at a piano, she guessed this study was Aiden’s comfort zone and the place he was most himself. As if shrugging off a jacket, the morning’s tension dropped from him and he perched on the edge of the desk, watching Erika walk around his most private space and amongst his most treasured possessions.
“I wouldn’t change a thing in here,” Erika said, drinking in every detail of the Aiden she’d never really had the chance to know. “But all this makes me realise how little I really know about you.”
“Our relationship existed between two separate worlds. Neither of us crossed over.” He paused before adding, “It feels good to have you here at last.”
“I’m glad I came. As soon as I stepped inside this house, I felt safe,” she admitted. “At home.”
“Having you here makes it feel like home at
last. To see you walking barefoot around the rooms, mentally filling the place with cushions and hearing the piano played. Within an hour, it’s a different house.”
“Perhaps the mill was waiting for me to get here before it came to life.”
Aiden shrugged as if it were too big a question. “Or maybe I was.”
The piercing look he gave Erika came as half-rebuke and half-invitation and her heart missed a beat. Not wanting to say the wrong thing, she looked away to give herself a second to organise her thoughts but, in doing so, she caught sight of the picture hanging on the wall behind the door. Whatever she’d been about to say froze on her lips and she gasped.
The familiar monochrome photograph had been enlarged and printed onto canvas. At the sight of it, the memories rushed in on her so fast she became dizzy and struggled for breath.
She remembered it being taken a scorching afternoon at Ben’s house when all they’d been able to do was swim or lie in the shade. Erika had fallen asleep on her side and Aiden had lain behind her on the sun bed, his body spooning hers and his arm curled possessively around her waist. At one point he’d propped himself up and dropped a kiss onto her neck, making Erika smile in her sleep and mould herself into him as if they were two halves of one body.
Richard had captured the moment with his camera, reducing it to black and white and turning it into a still from an old Hollywood movie.
Even now, half a world away from California, it evoked the smell of sun cream on Aiden’s skin, the warmth of his body against hers and the happiness of waking up in her lover’s arms.
A smile escaped her disguised as a sigh.
“I’ve not seen that for a long time,” she said, all too aware of Aiden moving to stand beside her. “I’d forgotten what a beautiful photograph it is.”
“I asked Richard for it after we’d…” Aiden’s voice broke off and he rubbed the back of his neck again while he scrambled for the right phrase. “…once I got back to England. It moved in here when I did.”
It surprised Erika that he’d hang such a private portrait in such a prominent place. “I packed all our photographs away after you left. They were too painful to look at. I couldn’t have a daily reminder of how much I missed you.”