by Miranda Lee
‘Then why did you come here?’ the man cut in.
‘If you want a kiss so badly, I’ll kiss you,’ Lorenzo offered.
Was there anyone else in the world who could accidentally speed date? He thought not. And it only made Carly all the more adorable in his eyes. How alone she must have felt to come here in the first place. And whose fault was that? Time to make amends.
Carly gulped as Lorenzo dragged her into his arms. What happened next was less a kiss, and more a lifetime achievement award in seduction, and it went on and on until people started applauding. First he laced his fingers through her hair, while with his other hand he caressed her cheeks. He made her feel as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, stroking her jaw with his thumb as he kissed her, and kissing her so tenderly she could hardly believe this was what people did. And then the kiss morphed into something so stirring and passionate, she had to wonder if he’d forgotten himself as he plunged and withdrew in what was surely a dress rehearsal for a performance she had no part in.
Drawing back at last, he stared deep into her eyes, and then, taking her by surprise, he came back for more. This couldn’t be a mistake, could it? She hoped not. Lorenzo’s face was still cold from the night air, and his stubble felt rough against her cheek, but his lips were hot with a persuasive heat that ran riot through her body and as he continued to kiss her their audience egged them on.
‘I think I’d better get you out of here,’ he said, pulling away at last.
He was still holding on to her. ‘I think you better had,’ Carly agreed, her eyes sparkling like diamonds.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HE WAS TAKING CARLY out of the bar when a girl approached him with a clipboard, to ask if, under the happy circumstance, he would be prepared to give her company an endorsement. She might have spared a thought for Carly’s opinion on that, he thought, but the young woman’s gaze was fixed on him.
‘I don’t sign my name to anything unless I’ve read the small print,’ he told her, concentrating on ushering Carly safely towards the door. He took the pamphlet anyway and stuffed it in his pocket. ‘I’ll study this later, and find out what exactly your company is asking people to sign up to.’
The girl looked as if she wanted it back. He didn’t blame her.
Carly noted the incident, but was still reeling from what had happened. With Lorenzo’s arm around her shoulders it was hard to think straight, and with Lorenzo’s astonishing kiss branded on her swollen lips for all time, it was impossible. Maybe she would never think straight again. But then she wouldn’t win the scholarship, Carly realised, quickly shaking herself out of it.
‘All right?’ Lorenzo said, looking down at her.
‘Absolutely fine. Thank you for rescuing me.’ She eased herself free, knowing he was only being kind.
As they reached the door two representatives from the speed-dating company almost collided in their haste to open it for them. Lorenzo glanced at them, and then, leaning across her, held the door open for her himself. There was something about him, even without his wig and gown, that inspired fear in the heart of every wrongdoer, including her! ‘If this means I’m finished I’d rather you told me straight,’ she said, trying to keep up with him as he started back towards the flat.
‘We’ll talk about it later. Right now it’s more important to get you out of this weather.’ Lacing his arm through hers, he slowed, matching his pace to her shorter stride, seemingly oblivious to the sleet hitting them in the face.
‘Lorenzo, I’m really sorry to bring you out on a night like this. I was just—’
‘Trying to pick up a man in a bar?’
‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘What was it like, Carly?’
‘I wouldn’t do anything I thought might bring chambers into disrepute.’
‘Work? Is that all you think about? What about your own reputation?’
The lamplight was reflected in his eyes, making them appear to burn fiercely. The look reached inside her and twisted something. ‘Lorenzo, I—’
‘Lorenzo?’ he interrupted. ‘Do you think I have all the answers? Or maybe you think the scholarship will fill that empty space inside you? Do you even have a clue what you want out of life, Carly?’
As she stared at him in shock his jaw firmed. ‘No, I didn’t think so.’
As he swung an arm around her shoulder and urged her on she shrank into him, relieved that, though clearly exasperated, Lorenzo wasn’t prepared to abandon her to her fate. Keeping her scholarship hopes alive was important, but meanwhile it felt good snuggling up to him, and she was going to enjoy it as long as she could. Even in the freezing cold her lips still burned from his kiss, and everywhere his hands had touched, held or stroked bore little imprints of strength and warmth and protection. Dreaming again, maybe, but it was a dream that didn’t cost a broken heart to indulge in.
When they arrived back Lorenzo let them in and left her under strict instructions to strip off her clothes in the hallway. And pose nude? Catching sight of herself in the mirror, Carly quickly doused that thought. She could hear Lorenzo running a bath and, clutching her damp clothes in front of her, she draped her jacket over her shoulders for good measure.
‘I thought I told you to get undressed?’ he said, barely sparing her a glance.
‘I am undressed … underneath …’
Zero reaction. The promise of that kiss in the bar had cooled, leaving stern Lorenzo a little sterner, but no more interested in taking her to bed than he’d ever been. This wasn’t lust that ached inside her; it was something more, she realised in panic. The thought that she might have fallen in love with Lorenzo put her at more risk than a broken heart, because it made it impossible to work with him. And what about her scholarship hopes then?
‘Are you coming to have your bath?’ he said, distracting her. ‘I’ll get some towels.’
As he walked away her dreams seemed ridiculous, like the fantasies of a schoolgirl with a crush.
‘Don’t wait for me,’ he called back.
What point would there be?
Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. Lorenzo was way out of her reach. Even the oil he had added to the bath water was expensive and exclusive; a man like that would never settle for anything ordinary.
This time he only put his arm round the door, brandishing thick-piled, toffee-coloured towels, each one of them big enough to swaddle her from head to foot. ‘They’re still warm,’ he said. ‘If you hang them over the radiator they’ll stay that way …’
She thanked him and then settled back in the warm water so she could listen to him moving about in the kitchen. Tea and sympathy? Or maybe he was preparing a stiff drink for her to ease the news that her scholarship hopes were dashed.
‘Ten minutes and then we talk,’ he called to her from the hallway.
At least she didn’t have long to wait to hear her fate! Relaxing back, she closed her eyes. There was little she could say in her defence. She’d been feeling low and had sought refuge in a bar, which hardly sounded like the reasoned actions of a Unicorn scholarship candidate.
Lorenzo’s knock on the bathroom door made her spill bath water on the floor.
‘Are you decent?’
‘Yes …’ Well, she was cloaked in a glittering foam blanket.
‘I’m coming in.’
She sank beneath the foam.
‘Drink this.’
She cautiously pushed herself back up a bit. Lorenzo was offering her a mug of warm milk. ‘I hate warm milk.’
He ignored her complaint. ‘Drink it while it’s hot. I added honey and a sprinkling of cinnamon.’
Great. Nursery food.
‘Good girl …’
She curbed the urge to spit out a milk fountain in favour of sipping slowly to see if he would stay.
‘Don’t move.’
It worked.
‘I’m going for some more towels …’
She’d made an impression!
He returned with an
armful of towels, but now it came to it he was rather more man than she could handle. Her body might be telling her to prepare for contact with some hard, tanned flesh, but she was losing her nerve.
He hunkered down.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Drying your hair. Maybe that way you won’t catch a chill and take time off work.’
Some impression!
When Lorenzo had finished drying her hair he held out a bath sheet, allowing her to climb out of the bath with her modesty sadly intact. As if that weren’t humiliating enough he told her to clean her teeth and stood aside.
Fantasies would be the death of her.
They went into her bedroom.
‘Night clothes?’ Lorenzo prompted.
She reached inside the bedside drawer where she stored her sexy sale bargains.
‘What’s that?’ Lorenzo demanded as she held up a wisp of lace. ‘Haven’t you got anything sensible?’
Like grandma’s bloomers?
‘How about these?’ Fishing deeper than she had, he emerged triumphantly with a pair of pink flannelette pyjamas. ‘These will keep you nice and warm.’
So could he …
‘Climb into bed,’ he ordered, returning to the door.
This was not going to plan. This was not going anywhere. For all she knew Lorenzo might have sisters, but she didn’t want to be one of them.
‘Don’t worry about over-sleeping. I’ll wake you in the morning.’
‘What about our talk?’
‘We’ll have it tomorrow …’
‘Carly …’
‘Mmm …’
‘It’s time to get up.’
No. He couldn’t wake her now. ‘Leave me,’ she said grumpily. ‘I’m asleep …’ She had no intention of getting out of bed so soon after Lorenzo had taken so much trouble to make sure she stayed there. ‘Did you have to do that?’ With a groan of disapproval she tried to shield her eyes. From arrows of sunlight?
‘Did I have to pull the curtains at ten o’clock in the morning? Yes, I most certainly did, young lady.’
‘Ten o’clock in the morning?’ Carly shot up and rubbed her eyes. The evidence was undeniable. Lorenzo was wearing his three-piece suit, and he’d shaved. He was ready for work, and the thin winter sunshine was streaming into the room.
‘You’ve slept long enough.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘You wouldn’t want to be late for work.’
There was an edge to his voice that suggested she had better not be.
‘I won’t be late.’
‘Half an hour in my office.’
Half an hour? ‘I’ll be there.’
Last night had been his biggest test yet, and the night of the Grand Court had been the turning point in his mind between Carly Tate, promising law student, and Carly Tate, promising innumerable erotic delights. But this was question time and office time, Lorenzo reminded himself. He wanted to know more about her before writing his report for the scholarship committee. ‘So, your parents are supportive?’
‘Absolutely … they couldn’t be more so.’
He rearranged himself in the chair. ‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’
‘One sister, Olivia …’
Her gaze flickered.
‘Do you get on well?’
‘Oh, very well. She’s the pretty one.’
She gave a nervous laugh, and he wanted to tell her that he wasn’t interested in pretty sisters, only Carly Tate. He had to dig deep if he was going to find out if she was committed to the programme. ‘So what drew you to law?’
‘It missed a generation.’
‘And you felt you should fill the breach?’
‘I wanted to,’ she argued passionately.
‘There are other worthwhile careers you could have pursued. Didn’t you consider any of them?’ He waited for her reply, already knowing the answer—there had only ever been one path open to her. ‘How about your hobbies, Carly?’
‘Hobbies?’ Her eyes went blank.
‘Yes, hobbies—sport, dancing, theatre—’
‘Oh, I read a lot,’ she interrupted.
‘Law books?’
She clammed up and blushed red. She didn’t want him grilling her on the latest hot reads. ‘Anything else?’ he pressed.
She bit her lip, drawing his attention to the other redness where his stubble had abraded her tender skin. He remembered his hackles shooting up when he’d thought the man in the bar was trying to humiliate her. He’d acted purely on instinct, but he could still remember how she’d felt beneath his hands, his mouth, and the way she’d tasted against his tongue. He wanted her now. He wanted to take her to bed right now—
‘Anything else you’d like to tell me?’ he said, needing the distraction badly. But he couldn’t look at her without recalling how fragile she’d been in his arms. And the thought of sinking deep into that warm, soft body—
‘Do I have anything else to say?’ she said, interrupting his stream of thought. She looked thoughtful. ‘I want the scholarship.’ Lowering her chin, she delivered him a level gaze. ‘It means everything to me …’
‘And to your parents too, I have no doubt …’ He glanced at the door, a signal that their interview was over. He needed space.
The rest of the day flew past, not that there was much left of it. She was free to concentrate on firming up the arrangements for the Christmas party. That and ensuring Lorenzo’s car was returned to him on time.
‘Everything going to plan?’ he said, making her heart stop when he poked his head around the door of her cubby-hole.
‘Really well. Your car should be returned to you this evening.’
‘And the party?’
‘All going to plan.’ At least something was, she thought wryly.
‘Just don’t be too proud to ask for my help if you need it. Will you, Carly?’ Lorenzo pressed in a way that required an answer.
‘Don’t worry—everything’s under control.’
As he pulled away from the door she spun a smile and sent it flying in his direction. She waited motionless until his footsteps had died away. It was stupid to go on feeling like this. She had to stop pining for something that was never going to happen. What she should be doing was making the hard call home—the one that told her mother she wouldn’t be back for the annual gathering of the clan, because this year she had to stay in London and organise the Christmas party. ‘Which, yes, Mother, includes cleaning up after it. That’s right, Mother, menial tasks.’ She was already rehearsing the conversation in her head. ‘Someone has to do them.’
The phone call began better than Carly could have expected. Her mother was in high spirits and even swallowed her version of the party being an honour she had been entrusted with, right up to the point where she mentioned tidying up afterwards.
‘Stay and clear up?’ her mother exclaimed in disapproval. ‘Have we paid for all that education in order for you to carry out menial tasks?’
Someone has to do them, Carly mouthed silently, and then as her mother exploded into shrill indignation she held the phone away from her ear. Her mother couldn’t be expected to know what a scholarship race entailed. How you had to grovel and study until your eyes turned bright red and popped out of your head. It was better if she never knew. How could you explain that pride had no place when you were clinging on to an opportunity by your fingertips? ‘Really, it’s considered an honour,’ Carly said during of one of her mother’s rare pauses for breath.
‘An honour? I can’t see your sister agreeing to emptying slops—’
‘Mum, please, it’s not like that—’ But her mother was in no mood for listening.
‘You say yes too easily, Carly. You might be thought the clever one, but you’re not shrewd or worldly-wise like Olivia. Just be sure you’re not being taken for a mug. Here,’ she finished impatiently. ‘Speak to your father. I can’t talk any sense into you. But for his sake, if nothing else, I’m asking you to rethink.’
Her father was gentler, but she c
ould hear the disappointment in his voice. ‘Dad, they’re hardly likely to invite me to host the chambers party when I’ve so recently been granted a pupilage. Organising the Christmas party is not so bad. It’s a chance to prove myself—’
‘As a cleaner?’ her mother prompted from the wings.
‘Anyway, I’ll let you know how it goes, shall I, Dad?’
Carly waited as the silence lengthened. She was longing for a word of encouragement. She heard her mother say something in the background. ‘What did Mum say? I couldn’t hear her.’
‘She says don’t eat too much at the party,’ her dad reported. ‘You can’t afford to put on any more weight …’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘THANKS, DAD …’ Carly stared at the dead receiver in her hand. Her father had been bustled off the phone because her mother wanted to make a call. She remained very still for a moment, and then emotion welled inside her. She needed air … now.
‘Hey …’
Lorenzo had to move fast to avoid a collision. In her flight across Reception she’d been blind to everything, including him.
‘Didn’t you see me?’ His lips curved up in the half smile that could turn her legs to jelly, but on this occasion seemed like one more mocking jibe.
‘I saw you,’ Carly lied, standing tall. She made a point of strolling to the door as if she had all the time in the world, but inside she felt like a washing machine on its final spin, whirling mindlessly, endlessly. She was frantic for space, air, rain, anything other than the claustrophobic atmosphere inside her tiny cubby-hole because that was drenched in reproach and disappointment. All she wanted was to make her parents proud, and she could never seem to do so.
Lorenzo reached across and opened the outer doors for her. ‘I’m leaving too,’ he said. ‘Why don’t we walk back together?’
She could think of a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t do that, and did her best to put him off. ‘Oh, that’s okay,’ she said. ‘I might do some shopping first.’
But he slipped into stride beside her. ‘I’ll worry if I leave you wandering the streets alone looking for men to kiss.’
‘Last night was a one-off.’