Falling for Mr. Unexpected

by Inge Saunders

“It will be fine.” His voice vibrated through his chest.

  As she focused on the sound of his voice, her breathing became less ragged.

  “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  With all the strength she had left, she focused on him. Not only his voice, but his breathing, the beating of his heart, and the warmth radiating from him swept into her aching bones. It didn’t take long until she stood completely still against him.

  “You’re okay.”

  She lifted her head to look at him through tear-soaked eyes and gave him a sloppy smile.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Even now, do you have to contradict me?” His grin didn’t completely mask his concern.

  She couldn’t blame him. She’d had a meltdown on his very expensive shirt. Emma patted the wet spot on his chest. “Uh, sorry. I’ll wash it out for you.”

  “I’d rather you replace it.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I’m kidding.”

  She fingered the stain.

  “I know, bad timing. I’m never really any good at telling jokes,” he said.

  “Don’t leave your day job.” Her words lacked their usual punch. “I should probably explain….”

  “You don’t have to. It’s none of my business,” he insisted.

  She had to smile at her words coming back to her; he smirked back as if also remembering.

  “After what happened, I think you deserve to know.” She blew air from her mouth. “It’s my dad. You know we used to watch games with him. I…I haven’t seen one since he died. Not on TV. Not a live game. I haven’t watched any sports.” Some of those tremors tried to come back. “It made life less painful. I didn’t miss him as much if nothing reminded me of him.”

  “Stephanie doesn’t know.”

  “Not talking made it easier to cope. It didn’t turn out to be true,” she said with a snort.

  “We all do things out of necessity, thinking it would make life easier. And for a while everything does feel better. Not completely right. But right enough to function.”

  “Exactly.”

  Understanding shone in his eyes. They were silent as both contemplated his words.

  A weight had been lifted from her, though she was careful to not fully stretch out all the kinks. She couldn’t have another meltdown in the Cape Town Stadium’s restroom. She would do so in the privacy of her room.

  “We probably should get back.” She tried to wipe her face.

  “Wait, let me.”

  Damian angled so he could take a hand towel from the rack behind him. He leaned toward the sink, wetted one end, and then proceeded to wipe her face, first with the wet side and then the dry part.

  When he finished, she said, “You’re not a bad person, Damian.”

  Something like tenderness flashed in his eyes. “I know,” he replied.

  He cupped her face, intently staring at her as if imprinting every feature, then gave her one of the sweetest embraces she had ever experienced in her life, soft and kind and true. The kind of caress she never believed a man could be capable of. From all of the sloppy, wet kisses to the practiced kisses of experienced Casanovas, none had touched her soul, the strings of her heart with a mere brush of their lips, like this. His touch would linger for an eternity.

  The moment had tears coming to her eyes again, as he tried to kiss them away.

  Emma gripped his shirt and the part of her who rationalized how falling for someone could only end in a crash was being thoroughly kissed and scorned by her contradictory behavior.

  And also by the singularly worst and best feeling she’d ever had.

  “Open your eyes,” he said, and she complied.

  Emma didn’t know what emotions lay bare when he gazed at her, but she couldn’t help the warmth spreading through her at what she saw reflected in his eyes.

  “I’m not sorry,” he whispered.

  “Me either.” Her words were breathless.

  “And I don’t care what Mark and Stephanie say.”

  “I don’t either,” she said, feeling delirious.

  “And you should tell Richard you’re not interested in him.”

  She gasped, surprised. “Okay.”

  “Then I’m going to kick your sister out of my home,” Damian went on.

  “Uh….”

  “And we can go back to cooking and reading together.” He ended with an air of cockiness.

  “It would be easy huh? No one will question us; everyone would leave us alone. It’d be you and me like at the beginning?” Emma frowned.

  “It would. You have a week’s holiday left….”

  She pulled away from him when he paused. “There’s no way this is going to work,” she said. It seemed so impossible.

  “We’ll never know if we don’t try.”

  “Try each other out for a week?” she asked flippantly.

  “What people do when they date? They try each other out. See if us together would work.” He shrugged.

  “So, let me get this straight. You’re suggesting we date for the whole week, to see if we are compatible?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Compatible as a couple?” she asked to make sure.

  “Yes.”

  “You do realize what you’re saying?” She contemplated his proposal.

  “I am fully aware.” He nodded.

  They stared at each other, and she wondered how she she’d gone from having an emotional breakdown to talking about dating Damian Davidson, of all people.

  Then an idea occurred. “We can’t tell anyone.”

  “Didn’t we agree we didn’t care what our brother and sister have to say?” He chuckled. “The weirdest sentence I’ve ever said.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled. “But you, the public and media. We should give ourselves a chance…for it to be us,” she said, thinking of the swarm of photographers waiting for him. “To get to know each other without everything else.”

  “The media is a part of my world, Emma.”

  “I know, but….”

  “No. I’m not going to broadcast to the whole world we are dating, but I’m also not going to hide it. Besides, the beach house is very private.” He spoke a bit forcefully.

  “Was private. Everyone knows you’re in the country now.”

  He retreated. “So you would rather let no one know about us. Not our family. Not our friends. No one. Let this be, our secret?”

  The way he said the words left no doubt in her mind how he took her reluctance to involve the media and everyone else in whatever this was.

  “It’s not what I meant.”

  “No, but it’s what you said.” He held her by the shoulders. “You still think I want a holiday fling.”

  She hadn’t, at least she hadn’t until he mentioned it. Her pause seemed to be his answer, as he completely let go of her.

  “Let’s forget everything. I’ll wait for you outside.”

  Before Emma had a chance to state her case in her defense, he handed her the crutches and out the door he went.

  She made a frustrated sound, cursing her broken toe because she couldn’t move as fast as she wanted. It wouldn’t do her any good anyway. As usual, when it came to her and Damian, she had managed to royally mess things.

  The walk back to the lounge area was quiet and strained. She tried to say something, but his scowl kept the words locked inside her mouth.

  A couple of minutes before halftime they got back, and both of them ignored the curious glances their way.

  Richard asked her again if she was okay, and she nodded, not trusting her voice. Throughout intermission she plastered a smile on her face, avoided Damian, and tried to listen to Richard as he caught her up on the highlights of the game she had missed.

  The second half wasn’t as taxing as the first because her mind was preoccupied by someone else. At one point, Stephanie traded seats with Damian to spend some time with her, but her sister wanted to know what had happened. Damian’s brooding didn’t he
lp matters any as Emma tried to blame her sore foot.

  When the game ended, they didn’t hang around because of her throbbing injury and Damian made sure he distracted the photographers so they wouldn’t be hounded.

  She caught him staring at her as Richard helped her down the hallway and the spiral staircase. But the opportunity to salvage something of what had happened in the restroom had been lost. She couldn’t help but feel they would always misunderstand each other.

  Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe this is supposed to happen. Maybe…. But a third maybe didn’t work because she had a hard time forgetting the kiss.

  As Richard talked about the game, then the medical convention he had to return to, the kiss lingered on her lips and in parts she didn’t even know she had.

  At the beach house, she made an excuse and went straight to her room. It wasn’t her bedroom in her cramped flat, but the bed served its purpose. She curled into a ball, her face almost touching her knees.

  He had helped her when she had needed someone the most, when she didn’t realize she needed help. She would have done what she always did, try to deal with things by herself.

  Her father would have had great advice regarding Damian. She smiled and squeezed her eyes shut. She missed him so much. People always said time healed all wounds. But time for her moved slowly. Stephanie and her mother missed him, too, but they did better at voicing their feelings than she did.

  Her mother had always said she took after her dad in that respect.

  “Dad,” she whispered, “what would you have me do?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer. She knew he couldn’t give her one. But it still soothed her aching heart, even if it had gained a new hurt. A different kind than the one she had been walking around with for four years.

  It had been a week. Damian shouldn’t mean so much to her. Isn’t this what I would say to Nomsa if the roles were reversed?

  She groaned into her pillow at the realization of how much easier it was to stand on the outside looking in. When she didn’t have to make tough choices, unknowingly putting her heart on the line.

  This is ridiculous. She groaned louder. How could I have? When exactly?

  Sitting up, she glared around the room, completely mad at herself.

  What a stupid thing to do! “Ah!” For some reason, the whole situation made a giggle escape, which turned into a laugh.

  She grabbed her pillow and laughed into it, not wanting Stephanie to come and investigate.

  Oh, I’m turning into a mental case. One banana short of a fruit salad. What person sabotaged herself when asked to date someone she was attracted to?

  She flopped on her back and gave a loud moan. She hid from herself, if for a moment, by curling into a ball again.

  Damn Damian Davidson for not only being a pretty face. She came out of hiding, knowing she would have to do something to make things right between them again.

  Chapter Nine

  Emma sniffed the air as she leisured in the comfortable, warm feeling of waking up.

  She then swung off the bed, picking up the crutches she left on the floor. She had to go find Damian.

  Voices carried up the stairs and she worked her way to the top and paused as she overheard Damian say something, but she couldn’t quite make out what.

  A flirty laugh followed. She frowned. Stephanie doesn’t laugh like that.

  She fixed her eyes on the stairs; coming up had been reasonably easy. But going down now seemed like a death wish. She decided to leave behind one crutch and use the banister for support on the other side.

  Mark said something, but she didn’t pay much attention, her mind more on trying to work out who the flirty laugh belonged to. As she stopped at the bottom step, her chest clenched. She had always listened to people say how they had painful physical reactions to emotional distress but made it off as them being dramatic.

  No one noticed her, and she seized the opportunity to fully take in the scene before her.

  Stephanie played hostess, handing out drinks, while Mark sat in a chair and spoke to a leggy, raven-haired beauty. She sat close to Damian on the sofa, touching his arm and smiling at him, giving an assured nod.

  Emma didn’t know how, but she recognized the woman sitting so close to Damian as Lizle Vlam. She hadn’t seen any of the movies she featured in and knew for a fact in the future she wouldn’t.

  Lizle stroked Damian’s arm, and it didn’t seem to bother him too much, since he hadn’t moved away from her. Emma’s eyes narrowed. Knowing the time had come for her to make her presence known, she deliberately let her crutch hit the banister, resulting in them all staring at her. She plastered a smile on her face.

  “Hey. Sorry. I can be so clumsy at times.”

  “You’re awake! I thought you’d sleep straight through the afternoon. I told Mark you slept like a log.” Emma stifled the urge to glare at her sister.

  Why did she have to describe me as a log in front of the obvious Venus Goddess? The grim thought took her into the room.

  “Yeah, I tried once to wake her up but she burrowed deeper into the covers,” Mark said good-naturedly.

  This time, she failed to hide her scowl. He grinned, not put out by her glare.

  “Yes, I’ve had experience,” Damian said in a quiet tone.

  They glanced at each other. She didn’t know what went through his mind but she had a clear memory of waking up in her underwear, not knowing when he had undressed her. Emma tried to suppress the blush working its way up to her face.

  She cleared her throat. “Um…where are my manners? I’m Emma,” she said to the raven-haired beauty.

  She graciously moved in her seat to face her, and Emma noticed her crimson mouth.

  “Lizle. Lizle Vlam,” she said in a deep, sultry tone.

  Like James. James Bond. Emma hoped her friendliness hid her catty feelings. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, instead of the opposite.

  Lizle Vlam had one hand on Damian and the other held a glass of red wine.

  “Lizle just arrived from the airport,” Stephanie said with a bright smile.

  Emma couldn’t blame her sister; this would make a good tennis club story.

  “How was your flight?” she asked.

  “A bit bumpy. But I survived. I had to come.” She pouted. “I hope to convince Damian to come back home with me.”

  The movie; it must be about the movie.

  Damian got up and Emma had to give him props for maneuvering out from under Lizle’s wandering hand. He threw Lizle one of his lopsided grins though, and she took the compliment back.

  He should be shot. Her eyebrows lifted. He caught her glaring at him and winked.

  She frowned. What’s that all about?

  Before she could investigate, he held out a hand to Lizle, helping her up from the sofa. “If you don’t mind, we have some business to discuss.”

  The two headed toward the beach outside, Lizle’s arm firmly cradled in his.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” Stephanie asked, clapping. “Did you see her last movie? Oh my word. She’s amazing. She played this deep undercover double agent….”

  “No, I haven’t.” Emma’s irritation swept through. “I haven’t seen any of her movies.”

  Stephanie rolled her eyes. “If it doesn’t have something to do with a book being made into a movie, you don’t watch it.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “But you already know what the movie’s about. What’s the fun in knowing the end?”

  “That’s my point. I know what I’m getting,” Emma retorted.

  Mark laughed. “You two. I think I’ll have another glass,” he said, getting up. “You want anything?” he asked Emma, the only person in the room without a glass in her hands.

  “No, I’m good.” Her eyes strayed to the patio.

  “Emma,” Mark said, “If you still want to leave, I can always take you. Richard said you could drive back with him, too.”

  He gave he
r a cheeky grin.

  “There will never be an Emhard.” She voiced the truth she couldn’t before say to them.

  “What?” Mark asked with a confused laugh.

  “You know, Emma and Richard. Emhard. It’s all the range now to combine names to show coupledom.”

  Before Mark could reply, Stephanie made an impatient sound, her matchmaking schemes foiled. “And why not?”

  “Because I’m not in love with him.” The honesty of her words caused silence.

  “Are you in love with someone else?” Stephanie asked.

  Mark took a sip from his wine, pointedly ignoring the two sisters. Emma was amused at this. “It doesn’t matter. It would be unfair to Richard. And I don’t want you to encourage him, Stephanie.”

  “Me?”

  “No need to act so innocent,” Emma replied, unable to stop her laughter.

  “I know you want the best for me. But, trust me, I also want that for me.”

  “Amen to that,” Mark said and went to rub his wife’s stiff back.

  “You make it sound like I’m trying to force Richard on you,” Stephanie said, still ruffled.

  “Certainly not.” Emma bit her lip.

  Mark hid his smile behind his glass.

  “Well I can’t say I didn’t try,” she conceded, and they all burst out laughing.

  Chapter Ten

  Emma didn’t want to admit to herself, but, forever being a self-proclaimed realist, had to. Internally, she had been freaking out even though outwardly she appeared like she didn’t have a care in the world.

  I hope I did. She wanted to bite her nails, but she hadn’t bitten them since age ten when she found out the stomach didn’t digest fingernails.

  She gnawed the inside of her lip. She couldn’t believe she found herself here, when she had given herself so much grief over getting highly emotional.

  Emma cringed inwardly at her own cowardice. In walks a leggy Hollywood A-list actress and I get insecure.

  Who wouldn’t? It was hard to get her head around the notion the raven-haired beauty had only stepped off a flight from America to South Africa.

  Since Damian and Lizle Vlam—she mentally rolled her eyes; she would forever be Lizle Vlam to her—came back into the room, she’d been on edge.