by Lynne Shelby
Ryan came out of the house carrying two mugs of coffee. He set them down on the table and took the chair next to Cassie.
‘I made yours extra strong,’ he said to her. To me, he added, ‘She’s been drinking again and I need to sober her up. We’re going to see my parents this evening to discuss our wedding, and I don’t want them thinking I’m marrying a lush.’
Cassie grinned. ‘I had a long talk with your mother on the phone about the press coverage of my drinking habits, and she told me that any girl is allowed to act a bit wild when she’s about to settle down to married life. She also wants an invitation to my hen night.’
‘You and my mother on a girls’ night out,’ Ryan said. ‘What a terrifying thought.’ They both laughed.
‘So what are you doing sitting out here on your own, Lucy?’ Ryan said. ‘Where’s Daniel?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ I said. ‘He and I broke up.’
Ryan froze in the act of drinking his coffee.
Cassie gaped at me. ‘You and Daniel – But why? I don’t understand. What happened?’
‘He cheated on me,’ I said. ‘He slept with Nadia.’
‘What?’ The colour drained from Cassie’s face. ‘Are you sure? How do you know?’
‘Owen and I arrived back here this morning and found them together, naked in her bed. So, yes, I’m sure.’
‘Oh, Lucy –’ Cassie’s hands flew to her mouth.
‘I told Daniel to go and he went. Nadia’s gone as well. She went off in a taxi with most of her stuff. I don’t know where.’
There was a long silence.
Eventually, Ryan said, ‘Shite, Lucy. I don’t know what to say to you.’
‘How could they,’ Cassie said. ‘In this house – in our home. What were they thinking?’
‘I’d imagine Daniel was thinking with his dick,’ Ryan said.
‘I thought I was the Girl who tamed the Fallen Angel,’ I said. ‘I thought he’d changed since he’d met me. I was so wrong.’
‘Even for the Fallen Angel,’ Cassie said, ‘this has to be an all-time low. As for Nadia, I’d never have believed it of her. She’s worked for me and lived in my house for three years. I thought I knew her.’
Ryan put his hand over hers. ‘Nadia is a sly, manipulative bitch.’
Cassie seemed about to protest, but then she nodded her head. ‘She’s certainly played me for a fool. I trusted her completely, and now she’s betrayed me. What am I saying? This isn’t about me. Lucy, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now, but I want you to know that Ryan and I are here for you.’
‘We’ll get you through this,’ Ryan said.
‘We’ll stay in with you tonight,’ Cassie said. ‘Or take you out, if you’d prefer… Whatever you want. Ryan, would you phone your mum and dad and tell them we can’t make it this evening?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Ryan produced his mobile.
‘That’s very sweet of you,’ I said, ‘but you really don’t need to change your plans because of me.’
‘It’s not a problem Lucy,’ Ryan said. ‘My parents will understand.’
‘We’re not leaving you here on your own,’ Cassie said. ‘Not after what happened.’
‘I’m OK,’ I said. ‘It was awful at the time – walking in on them, I mean – but now I just feel – I don’t know – strange, but OK.’
‘We’re your friends,’ Cassie said, ‘and friends look out for each other. Like you looked out for me this last weekend.’
Ryan said, ‘No-one should have to deal with a break up on their own.’
‘But I won’t be alone tonight,’ I said. ‘Owen’ll be here.’ Much as I valued their support and concern for me, I realised that I’d actually prefer it if Cassie and Ryan went out. I didn’t know what was going on between me and Owen, but I did know that tonight I wanted him to myself, so that I could find out. ‘He’ll be home soon.’
‘Will he?’ Cassie said, doubtfully.
‘Oh, yes. He didn’t want to leave me on my own either. I practically had to frogmarch him out of the house.’ I thought, do I tell them about me and Owen? What do I tell them about me and Owen? What is there to tell?
‘Well, we won’t go ’til he’s back,’ Ryan said.
Cassie’s mobile, which was on the table, trilled with the first notes of Princess Snowdrop’s title music, telling her she had an email.
‘I really need to change my ringtone.’ She glanced at her phone, and then frowned and picked it up. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. This is unbelievable.’ She passed the phone to Ryan, and he passed it to me.
The message was from Nadia: I am no longer prepared to work long anti-social hours in an environment where I am patronised and unappreciated. I resign forthwith. You owe me one month’s salary, plus two week’s pay in lieu of holiday. Any item of mine remaining in your property should be forwarded to…
An address in Battersea followed.
‘The nerve of the woman!’ Cassie said. ‘Patronised? Anti-social hours? I took her clubbing and introduced her to A-list celebrities! And she can’t resign – I’m firing her.’
‘Doesn’t Leo live in Battersea?’ Ryan said, ‘I’m guessing she’s decided to inflict herself on him full time, and this message was for his benefit as much as yours.’
‘Poor Leo,’ I said.
Suddenly, Cassie said, ‘I just thought of something. I’m not saying they’re going to turn up on our doorstep anytime soon, but once it becomes known that the Fallen Angel and his girlfriend are no longer together, there could be some… interest from the media. You need to be prepared for that, Lucy.’
‘I guess you’re right. But I’m not going to worry about it until it happens.’
Ryan said, ‘Owen’s back.’
I turned my head to see Owen striding towards me across the sun-scorched grass. He looked at me questioningly, and then gave me a tentative smile. My heart leapt, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
‘Hi, all,’ he said, sitting down beside me.
‘Lucy’s been telling us about her and Daniel breaking up,’ Cassie said. ‘I’m still having trouble getting my head around it.’
‘Er, yeah. Bad times.’ Owen arranged his face into a suitably grave expression. ‘How are you doing, Lucy?’
‘I’m doing OK,’ I said. ‘Apart from regretting the time and tears I’ve wasted on my emotionally retarded ex-boyfriend, I’m actually doing fine.’
‘I – I’m glad to hear that,’ Owen said. ‘That you’re OK.’ We were both smiling now.
‘So how was your audition?’
‘It went well, I think,’ he said. ‘They want to see me again next week, so I must have done something right. Oh, and they told me to be sure not to shave.’
‘I thought there was something different about you,’ Cassie said. ‘It’s the stubble.’
‘Yeah.’ Owen stroked his chin. ‘Apparently werewolves, even in human form, are hairy guys. Or so I’m reliably informed by Alpha Male’s casting director.’
‘It suits you.’ I suppressed a sudden urge to reach out and touch his face. ‘It makes you look ruggedly handsome.’ I felt myself blush and could only hope that neither Cassie nor Ryan noticed.
‘Is that so?’ Owen said. ‘You may never see me clean-shaven again.’
Ryan glanced at his watch. ‘Cassie, you and I ought to be leaving about now if we’re still going to my parents.’ To Owen, he added, ‘We didn’t want to go out and leave Lucy on her own after the rough time she’s had, but now that you’re here…’
‘I’ll always be here for her,’ Owen said.
I felt such a rush of affection for him that it took my breath away.
‘I’ll be fine with Owen,’ I said. ‘Really I will. And you two do have a wedding to organise.’
After a further ten minutes reassuring themselves that I really was totally fine about their going, Cassie and Ryan said their goodbyes, and went off to talk flowers and table plans with his parents, leaving me alone with Owen.
‘Lucy…’
I turned my head to face Owen. His blue-eyed gaze searched my face. I felt as though I was melting inside.
‘I can’t be your friend anymore,’ he said.
‘I – I don’t want you as a f-friend,’ I said.
‘Will you have dinner with me tonight?’
‘You mean… like a date?’
‘Not like a date. A date.’
‘I’d love to have dinner with you tonight,’ I said.
His smile was dazzling. ‘I’ll pick you up – from your room – about eight?’
‘I’ll be ready.’ I willed him to lean forward and kiss me again.
‘I need to go and get changed,’ he said, ‘I can’t take a beautiful girl out to dinner in yesterday’s T-shirt.’
With another smile, he stood up and headed off into the house. Leaving me in the garden, feeling distinctly light-headed, and aching for his kiss.
CHAPTER 33
An hour and a half later, showered, hair blow-dried and straightened, legs shaved, face made up, and nails varnished, I stood staring at my open wardrobe, wondering what to wear. My wardrobe and my chest of drawers were overflowing with clothes, from ridiculously short, sequined dresses to jeans and T-shirts, to flimsy skirts and strappy tops. Nothing seemed right. In the end, I settled on a sleeveless, low-cut top, red, scattered with black roses, and black skinny jeans. And my apricot-coloured silk bra and thong – I’d no idea how the evening was going to end, or even how I wanted it to end, but I needed to know that I looked good, whatever happened. After that, shoes and bag were easy (black high-heeled sandals and black leather clutch), and I kept my jewellery simple with a pair of silver earrings and a silver chain.
Scrutinising myself in my full-length mirror, I was pleased with what I saw. Hopefully, Owen would be too. Honestly, Lucy, I thought, you’re behaving like a girl going on a first date. Then I thought, I am going on a first date. I’ve been out with Owen often enough, but this is the first time I’ve gone on a date with him. Suddenly, my legs felt decidedly weak. I told myself I was being absurd. It was Owen I was having dinner with, for goodness’ sake.
Without warning, my head reeled. What was I doing going on a date with Owen, when it was only a few hours ago that I’d broken up with Daniel? It was way too soon for me to be even thinking about getting involved with anyone else, let alone putting on my best silk underwear. What if this was all a huge mistake? Lord knows I’d made enough mistakes with men.
Then I remembered the way I’d felt when Owen had kissed me…
‘Owen.’ I said his name aloud. I thought of all the times we’d been out, or stayed in together. How we always had so much to say to one another, how he made me laugh, even when I was feeling down. He was the only man I’d ever wanted to dance with… We’d been friends, close friends, but over the last weeks and months, however much I might not have wanted to admit it, even to myself, my feelings for him had grown from friendship into... something else. A delectable shiver ran down my spine. I wasn’t sure what it was I felt for Owen, but whatever happened tonight, we couldn’t go back to the way we were before that kiss.
There was a knock on my bedroom door. Quickly, I sprayed myself with perfume. ‘Come in, Owen,’ I said.
He opened the door. ‘Hey, Lucy. I’ve booked us a table at that new restaurant opposite the station, so if you’re good to go…’ His voice trailed off and his gaze travelled appreciatively and unashamedly up and down my body, and back to my face. ‘You look terrific. That red colour really suits you.’
‘Thank you. You’re looking pretty good yourself.’ He looked gorgeous in dark jeans, and a blue and white striped shirt that I’d not seen before.
We went downstairs and out into the street, and he took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. I became conscious of a pleasurable fluttering in my stomach.
‘I think I’m going to like not being friends with you,’ I said.
The restaurant had a garden, its stone walls covered in honeysuckle that filled the night air with its scent. We sat outside at a wooden table for two, a candle flickering between us. The waiter came to take our order and Owen asked him to bring us a bottle of white wine. We ate, and drank, talking easily about anything and everything as we’d always done, but all the while I was wondering when he was going to kiss me again. The waiter came back with the dessert menu, but neither of us could eat another thing. We had coffee, just sitting there together, without the need for talk. Owen rested his hands on the table, his fingertips just brushing mine.
‘Would you like another drink?’ he said. ‘Or shall we make a move?’
‘I don’t mind,’ I said. ‘It’s up to you.’ My stomach was clenched so tight that it hurt.
Owen signalled to the waiter, who brought him the bill. I was about to ask how much was my share, when he took some notes out of his wallet, and told the waiter to keep the change. I reminded myself that tonight we were not two friends meeting up in a bar after work, but a man and a woman on a date. And even in the twenty-first century, there are still guys who expect to pay for the meal if they ask a girl out to dinner.
I thought Owen might kiss me once we were outside the restaurant, but all he did was put his arm loosely around my shoulders. We strolled back to Cassie’s house, with my heart beating so furiously that I was sure he must be able to hear it. We arrived home and I got out my key, but my hand was shaking so much that I couldn’t get it in the lock. A smile playing about his mouth, Owen took the key, unlocked the front door, and stood to one side, so that I could go into the hall. He slowly closed the door. I was trembling all over now, but somehow I managed to return my key to my bag.
Owen laughed softly and put his hands on my waist, drawing me close. I melted against him, feeling the heat of his body through his shirt as he folded me in his arms. I slid my arms around his waist, and tilted up my face. He brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes.
And then at last, he bent his head and kissed me, his tongue exploring my mouth, desire lancing through me as his hand glided under my top and stroked my bare skin. We kissed for a long time before he lifted his face from mine.
‘Are we going to spend the night together?’ he said.
My body felt as though it was on fire. ‘Yes,’ I whispered. ‘We are.’
‘Are you sure?’ His voice was hoarse. ‘Because there’s nothing I want more right now than to take you to bed, but if it’s too soon, if you need more time, I can wait.’
‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,’ I said. To let him know exactly how sure I was, I took off my top. Then I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra, sliding it down my arms, and letting it drop to the floor. Owen groaned and crushed me to him, and I could feel that he was hard, even through his jeans. He kissed my neck, a hand cupping my breast. Then he swept me up in his arms and carried me upstairs, kicking open his bedroom door, before setting me gently down on my feet next to his bed. The curtains were open, and the room was flooded with light from the newly risen moon. I noticed that the bed was made with freshly laundered sheets.
Owen started to unbutton his shirt, but then reached over his shoulders and pulled it off over his head. He slid his feet out of his shoes, and stripped off his jeans and boxers, and I took off the rest of my clothes. We stood facing each other, naked, our bodies bathed in silver moonlight. He reached out a hand and traced the line of my jaw. I looked at his hard, muscular body, his chest rising and falling, and I wanted him very badly.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he said softly.
I lay down on the bed,
and he lay down next to me, holding me close against him, so that I could feel his heart beating next to mine. He kissed me on the mouth and at the base of my throat, and then he kissed my breasts. He trailed a hand down my body, and I moaned and gasped as I felt his touch between my thighs. He gathered me to him, and there was more kissing and caressing, our bodies and limbs entwined, his erection hot against my stomach. He reached under his pillow and brought out a condom. I smiled to myself. Fresh sheets and a condom under the pillow. He may have been happy to wait a while before we had sex, but he’d obviously hoped he wouldn’t have to.
He turned away from me for a moment, and I opened my legs so that when he turned back, he could position his body between them. He lowered himself until he was lying on top of me, supporting his weight with one hand, and guiding himself gently inside me with the other. For a moment we lay still, looking into each other’s eyes, and then he began to move, his hips rhythmically rising and falling. Desire, a craving hot and insistent, surged through me, and I raised my knees, gripping him with my thighs, and he thrust deeper, faster, harder. An intensity of heat and passion was building deep within me, and cascading through my body. Owen’s eyes were shut now, and he was breathing harshly, and my hips were moving with his, and then I felt his body jolt and arch towards me, and both of us were gasping as wave after wave of ecstasy crested within us and flooded our senses …
Owen brushed my forehead with his lips. Then he raised himself off me and lay on his back next to me on the bed, one arm under his head. I draped an arm over his waist and a leg over his legs, and settled my head on his shoulder. I breathed in the lingering scent of his cologne, and a gloriously masculine scent that was just him.
‘Lucy Ashford,’ he said, ‘you are a really great theatrical agent.’
‘And you, Owen Somers, are my favourite client.’
He put his arms around me. I could have lain there forever, safe in his arms.
‘How would you feel if I stopped telling people that you’re my agent, and started telling them that you’re my girlfriend?’
‘I’d like that Owen,’ I said. ‘Very much.’