In the scant seconds that he’d seen her, he’d taken in every miniscule detail. Damp ringlets of curling hair; clear, make-up free face; a graceful, swan-like neck; more than a hint of pale and interesting cleavage; taut, dark nipples clearly visible through the delicate fabric, and a cinched in waistline beneath the tightly pulled cord about it. And that was all before his eyes had wandered even lower.
His tea and the other men forgotten, he groaned inwardly as the images solidified in his mind.
The wrap had only just covered her shapely thighs, all soft flesh and deliciously damp skin, but as she had squealed in surprise and turned back to the bathroom, the diaphanous material had caught in her own breeze and lifted, giving him a tempting glimpse of a perfect peach of a bottom.
The bathroom door had slammed before he had time to lift his jaw from the floor, the noise breaking him out of his stunned stupor. He’d almost run back to his room, his pulse pounding furiously as his traitorous body gave in to the luscious sight, and his cock rose to greet his navel.
Shame had filled him instantly. Good God! What was he thinking! She was his best friend’s daughter! Way too young, way off limits, and he was way out of line. He’d felt sick with guilt and it had taken everything he’d had to be able to face her again.
And then, only three days later, it happened again. Admittedly, this time she was wearing something a little more substantial than the transparent blue wrap. This time she wore an almost floor length sort of silky affair, white and virginal with drifts of delicate feathery bits at the cuffs and collar. She appeared like some kind of snow queen, almost ethereal and untouchable, covered from head to foot in the elegant ensemble, but it didn’t matter. It was far too late to try to cover anything. His imagination did what his eyes could not and filled in every contour, every curve, every detail of her perfect body as though she were standing there stark naked.
He had to mentally pick up his jaw from the floor again before running back to his room, raging at his own debase feelings as he forced his achingly hard erection back into submission for the second time that week.
But the frustration didn’t end there. He didn’t know what was worse. Praying each night that he didn’t have a screaming nightmare that would wake the whole house, or hoping he didn’t dream of a girl he couldn’t have, strolling about the house in nothing but a shimmer of delicate material. Either way his fear or his shameful throbbing meant that he hadn’t had much sleep since.
He sucked in a long breath and imagined the delicate scent of her shampoo and shower gel drifting over him before he suddenly became aware of the silence surrounding him. His visions cleared immediately and he glanced about the room. Four pairs of eyes stared back at him, three sets of them clearly amused, one pair positively revolted.
Robbie had stopped working on his homework, his face a picture of horror.
“Oh no, not you too! I swear I’ve had enough of this. You lot need to get a grip.” The boy shook his head and groaned. “What is it with men when they get older? What is it about women that makes your eyes go all googly and stupid looking? I tell you right now, it’s never going to happen to me. I’ll make sure it doesn’t.” He dragged his schoolbooks towards him and shoved them back in his bag as he pushed his chair back. “I’m going to my room to finish this. The air is too sickly down here, and it’s not the smell of Uncle Patrick’s biscuits that’s doing it.” He stalked out of the kitchen as David let out a great bellow of laughter.
James felt his temper rise.
“What? I don’t have a clue what the boy is on about. Why are you all looking at me like that? I didn’t say or do anything.”
Joe strolled away from the counter and put his empty mug in the dishwasher.
“With that look plastered all over your face, you didn’t have to. You clearly have it bad. You might as well say goodbye to your sanity and give in gracefully, mate. That’s the best advice I can give.” He wandered over to the kitchen door and stared out into the garden as the sound of laughter and children talking excitedly wafted into the room. He looked back over his shoulder. “I’m going with them on this walk. Anyone else want to come?”
Patrick pointed at the joint of beef and the sink full of potatoes and shook his head, but David nodded. He gave James a sympathetic glance and a brief grasp on his shoulder.
“Best to just get it over with and surrender now. It’ll save a ton of messing about.”
James narrowed his eyes and glowered at his two friends.
“I have no idea what you are talking about, but I have some unpacking to do so I think I’ll miss the walk this time. I’ll see you all at dinner and maybe then we can have a sensible conversation about what I am meant to do with ten million pounds for the next seven years.” He turned, ignoring the chuckles that followed him, and quickly made his way back up to his bedroom.
Chapter Four
“So the babydoll didn’t work either? Blast! I felt sure that would seal the deal. The way you described it didn’t sound as though it left much to the imagination. Is he made of stone, or something?” Lucy wrapped a comforting arm around Crystal’s shoulder.
Crystal flushed at the memory of that awful morning when all her planning had gone so spectacularly wrong. She’d meant to come out of the bathroom and smile beguilingly as she shimmied back to her bedroom, but James’ horrified expression and almost frantic retreat back to his own room left her feeling utterly mortified.
It had been worse the second time when she hadn’t planned a thing and he’d caught her wearing some ghastly, fluff bedecked negligee ensemble that her father, thinking it had a sort of nineteen thirties elegance, had bought her for a Christmas present one year. She’d only put it on because she’d had a tearful moment prior to heading to the bathroom. Her father’s sudden death still hurt to the point of pain and the ridiculous gift had given her some sort of inner comfort.
Comfort that turned to utter humiliation as all the colour faded from James’ face and his expression took on the look of some kind of pale, marble statue when they met right outside the bathroom door once again.
She let out a small, strangled whimper.
“It’s all dad’s fault. If they hadn’t been such good friends then this wouldn’t be so difficult. I don’t think that he likes me and since the bathroom incidents it’s obvious that he’s avoiding me.” Crystal prayed that her words weren’t true.
She glanced over to where Emily, jeans rolled up to her knees, paddled about at the edge of the water while shouting encouragement to David, Joe and the children, who were all too occupied with not getting soaked to listen to the women’s conversation.
Geraldine smiled gently as she watched her husband gathering great handfuls of water and threatening to throw it over the shrieking children. David loved to play games. She only hoped that he was wearing his waterproof boots and trousers over his prosthetics. If he wasn’t, Joe, who was also elbow deep in the stream, was going to be drying and oiling every joint of David’s legs for at least the next week. She looked back at Crystal and spoke in heavily accented but quiet tones.
“But that cannot be right. I have seen the way ‘is eyes follow you about the room. ‘e does like you, more than likes you and ‘e is not avoiding you while ‘e is ‘ere. David said that James was unpacking still, and as to your father, well, James is being an ‘onerable man. La! ‘ow romantic of ‘im. I love ‘im more than I did before.” She fluttered her dark eyelashes and sighed deeply.
Crystal wished she shared the beautiful French woman’s confidence. She huffed out a breath.
“Yes, well, I suppose it does sound romantic if you put it like that, but it’s not helping me if he isn’t getting the message. What if he really doesn’t like me or doesn’t find me attractive. I’ve not looked at another man since the day I met him. I thought it was all just some teenage crush, but it has never worn off. Trouble is that he has never seen me any differently ever. I’m just Adam’s daughter to him, the lanky kid that fell off her bike the fi
rst day she met him.” She picked up a flat pebble and weighed it in her hand before she stood up and skimmed it across the lazy part of the river. It bounced several times before it plopped through the water’s rippling surface. “I feel as though I’m wasting my time. Not that it would make any difference. I can’t make myself fall in love with anyone else. I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t happen.” Her heart clenched as she recalled all the times she had told herself to forget him, all the evenings she had gazed at him over the family dinner table, all the nights she had cried herself to sleep when she had heard about his terrible injuries.
None of those things had changed the way she felt about him. She’d been in love with him since she first set eyes on him. So stunned was she by the tall, gorgeous looking soldier standing with her father that she had stopped looking where she was going and steered her bike straight into the hedge, and he’d immediately waded into the ghastly sloe bush to help her out.
Lucy gave her a squeeze, bringing her out of her thoughts.
“That’s the trouble when you fall totally in love. It’s forever. He’ll get over himself and come around. Geraldine is right about the way he looks at you. He’s obviously conflicted but it’s just some stupid code of conduct thing between men that’s standing in his way. He’s over thinking it all. It’s ridiculous, but apparently a friend’s sister or daughter is completely off limits. I don’t suppose his brain has considered that you are an independent woman with no parents to either give their blessing or not. Not that your father would have had anything against you going out with James. Why would he? Adam loved the man almost as much as you do. We just have to get James to change his preconceived ideas about the situation.”
Geraldine sighed happily.
“So it is decided. Good. I ‘ave already seen the way he looks at you. ‘e just needs a shove in the right direction and it will all work out. We must organize for you to ‘ypnotise ‘im and give ‘im this special massage you ‘ave told us about. The man will immediately fall under your spell.”
Crystal shook her head, her veil of dark blonde curls bouncing about her shoulders.
“But he won’t do it. Says that hypnotism won’t work. He’s not willing to give it a try.”
Lucy laughed.
“I doubt that it’s because he doesn’t think it will work. If those looks he was giving you last night at dinner and this morning over breakfast are anything to go by, I’d say that he’s probably far more worried about his reaction to your hands on him. I think I have a plan that will at least get him thinking about things. Although we’re having this week off up here, Gemma told me that the rehab centre is full. I’m sure a few of the guys from over there would love to have some therapeutic sessions from you. You can tell James that you are perfecting your skills.”
Crystal rubbed her fingers over the crease in her forehead.
“And how is that supposed to make him think about things? It’s not like he’s going to see what I’m doing if I’m there and he’s here, and due to confidentiality issues I can’t tell him anything. How will he know if I can help the other men if he’s not there watching?”
Geraldine hid her smile behind her hand.
“That’s exactly Lucy’s point. ‘e won’t know what you are doing with these other men. And in my experience, if an interested man doesn’t know what you are doing when you are out of ‘is sight and in the presence of an ‘alf naked, ‘andsome serviceman, ‘e soon makes it ‘is business to find out.”
Lucy gave a small chuckle.
“It’s cruel, I know, but jealousy is sometimes your best friend. I guarantee he’ll be going insane within hours. I’ll give Gemma a ring later and see what she can do. Maybe we can convince her to bring a couple of the lads to dinner tonight.”
James sat on the edge of his huge, canopied bed and rubbed his thighs. He stopped when he realized what he was doing. This was madness. His quads didn’t need rubbing. They felt absolutely fine. It was his shins that were killing him.
But he had no shins.
“I don’t have any fucking shins!” He yelled into the empty room, confident that no one else could hear him due to the soundproofing that Ellen had wisely installed. Too many of the men and women who came to stay in the château suffered horrendous nightmares.
He wiped a hand across his face and heaved out a breath as cramp set in his imaginary calves. He forced his invisible legs straight and dragged up his nonexistent big toes. The cramp retreated instantly. “Dear God! I’m going mad,” he muttered to no one.
He and David had both been injured in the same blast that ruined their bodies and all but finished their army careers. David had appeared to come off worse in the explosion. Their friend and colleague, Steve, had been forced to knock David out to perform an emergency double amputation in the immediate and dangerous fiery aftermath of the unexpected suicide bombers hideous demise. Rescued from the burning vehicle, James had initially fared better, but his injuries had been far worse than they originally appeared.
He hadn’t taken well to the metal pins holding his crushed legs together. His body had rejected the titanium. The breaks refused to mend as well as they did with most men. Several years of wearing braces, and in near constant, crippling pain, left him with only one reasonable choice. Both legs had to be amputated below the knee. It hadn’t been an easy decision to make. He’d gone for endless sessions of counselling and mulled it over for months before taking the final option to undergo the radical surgery.
He’d stupidly assumed that prosthetics would be the answer to all his prayers, and in some ways they were seeing that he now didn’t have to use crutches or any kind of additional support, but the pain hadn’t lessened one iota. If anything it was worse. Painkillers didn’t always work on the mixed up signals in his brain and none of the usual remedies had shifted the agony that nagged at him unremittingly, depriving him of sleep, of calm, of his sanity.
He struggled out of his trousers and removed the false limbs, leaning them in the frame that Ellen had also thoughtfully provided for the hotel residents. Maybe a long, hot shower and an evening in his wheelchair would help. He stared down at the strangely vacant space below his knees. One limb finished slightly higher than the other, something else that had always annoyed him. He had never thought about it prior to the operation but if he’d been given the choice he would have asked to be equal. It had never occurred to him that the surgeon wouldn’t see things that way, and now one leg stood three inches longer than the other.
He pulled off the protective socks that covered his residual limbs and inspected his skin, checking for abrasions or bruising. They appeared to be fine, but knowing of David’s and Gemma’s horror stories with infected wounds, he always made sure that he was clear of any irritation.
He stripped off his shirt and inched himself into his chair before wheeling himself to the fabulous bathroom that accompanied his room. It couldn’t really be called an ‘en-suite’, the room being almost as large as the bedroom. He rolled himself into the shower area and slid from his chair onto the wide seat, rotating it into the spray of the faucet only a moment later.
The steaming droplets cascaded over him, drenching him in delicious pinpoints of heat. One thing was for sure, Ellen and David hadn’t stinted on a thing in the hotel. It made him think about the possibilities of installing another bathroom in Adam’s house. It would certainly save the need for avoidance tactics every morning.
A groan left his lips as visions of a semi naked Crystal instantly flew into his mind again, shortly followed by images of a glowering Adam, his eyes burning holes through granite as the man sent Emily’s ex-boyfriend packing. At least the reminder gave his growing erection pause for thought. James dreaded to think what Adam might do if he knew the feelings wandering around inside his so called friend’s mind right now. The man would definitely be regretting demanding that James live in his house.
And that was another problem in itself. It was Adam’s house. It was always going to be Adam’s h
ouse, but it was now his responsibility along with both the man’s daughters, at least for the next several years. He wanted to rail at his friend. Why me? Bloody, fucking why! I have enough to worry about without this added burden!
He hated himself as soon as the thought the words crept into his mind and he immediately turned the shower off. The girls were no burden. They were both grown women, something he had only just realized in the weeks since Adam’s death. Why he’d not noticed it before, he had no idea.
Crystal and Emily had always just been Adam’s girls. Okay, so he’d noticed them growing up and becoming more beautiful by the day, but he hadn’t thought anything further than that. At least not until he’d held Crystal in his arms as she cried over her father’s body. Something had suddenly shifted inside him, had made him want to hold her for far longer than necessary. He didn’t know exactly what it was until the day he had met the woman outside the bathroom and then it had roared into life so fast that he had nearly collapsed at her feet, only remaining standing by sheer force of will.
He leaned his head back against the stone tiles and didn’t make any effort to move as he let the water cool on his body. Shivers set in only minutes later and still he sat there, water dripping from his dark hair onto his shoulders and running in rivulets over the muscles defining his pectorals and stomach. A staggering breath left his lungs as he suddenly realized how cold he had become. He forced his cold muscles to move as he swivelled the shower seat, reached out and grabbed a couple of the huge towels. Draping one across his chair, he levered himself into it and wheeled himself back to his bedroom.
He manoeuvred himself back onto his bed and rubbed his body hard with the other towel, trying to warm his skin again before rummaging around in his drawer for clean underwear and fresh clothes for the evening. He put on his comfortable jogging bottoms and was about to pull in the drawstring at the waist when a sudden jolt of pain shot up through his leg. His thigh twitched violently and the excess material hanging over his knee flicked out, catching one of his prosthetics standing in the rack. It tumbled sideways and he only just caught it before it hit the floor.
Scarred Surrender (Scarred Series Book 6) Page 5