The Gem (D'Arth Book 4)

by Camille Oster

"Sure," Shay said. "I could use one."

  He took the drink order and scrambled out of the seat, leaving it empty for Shay to slide in next to Jess.

  "You alright?" Jess asked.

  "Peter just tried to call me," she admitted.

  "You know nothing good will come of that."

  "I know," Shay said. "You don't have to convince me."

  "There literally are a million fish in the sea. Don't pick the most fucked-up one." Jess was only reiterating her own thoughts. They'd actually discussed Peter's limitations, but it was good to have her own opinion confirmed. "Never mind. Let's get drunk and have a fantastic time."

  Shay groaned as she woke. Her head was pounding. Why had she done it? It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, and admittedly, it had been an awesome night. They'd gone to a few clubs, danced and laughed. There were vague memories of taking a cab home.

  Getting up, Shay made her way into the living room and made herself a tea in the kitchenette. Jess' door was firmly shut and Shay knew she had that South African boy in there with her. She spotted Jess' bag on the couch and rifled through it when she sat down with her tea cup. She'd had the foresight to leave her phone in Jess' bag to prevent herself from engaging in some late night drunk-dialling. There had been some points last night when she'd been very tempted to tell Peter exactly what she thought of him.

  Pulling it out, she checked her Facebook page, primarily to see that there were no embarrassing photos from the night before. There was a friend request from one of the South African boys. Also a message from a Kiwi girl inviting them to a party the next weekend.

  After ensuring no damage was done, she set her phone down and turned on the TV. It would probably take her until midday to recover properly from the night before. She hadn't gone all out, but they'd had a good time.

  Everything was good at the moment. The new job was cool; she was being mentored by this Welsh woman who had worked there for years. Everyone was nice and Shay suspected she'd be happy there. It was only short term, but they were checking her out. If they liked her, they would make an offer for a permanent position. Her life here was being sorted. Summer was coming and everyone had starting talking about their summer plans. Ibiza, Costa del Sol, and Portugal were some of the destinations discussed. Shay couldn't wait.

  Her phone beeped. Someone was alive this time of the morning, she noted. Leaning over, she grabbed it, scrolling through to the text screen.

  Peter says: Hey.

  Shay froze again. Crap. He was trying to engage her again. She didn't know what to do. It would be rude to ignore him completely. A call you can pretend you didn't get, but a text sat around until you were ready. She was going to have to answer. Obviously, she could do it later, but what was the point of putting it off.

  Hey, she wrote back.

  What are you doing?

  Nursing a hangover.

  Party girl.

  Shay smiled. Rich of him calling her a party girl, but under the circumstances she couldn't argue. She had crawled into her flat some time during the wee hours of the night, drunk out of her tree.

  Just come back from Shanghai, he wrote.

  Shay stilled for a moment, trying to think of what to say. In the context of the discussion they'd had on the beach, the statement could be read a few different ways, but she knew he was literal if nothing more.

  Has it changed?

  Always does.

  Can I buy you coffee? He wrote when she didn't write anything.

  Can't. Got plans.

  Nothing came through for a moment. This was the point where he'd ask for if another time would suit and she'd have to say no again, conveying the message that no time would be suitable. This was so awkward, but she just couldn't go there with him. She knew what he was like.

  Dinner?

  I'm out all day.

  As you won't let me wine and dine you, how about you just come over for sex then.

  Shay burst out laughing, covering her mouth.

  Peter, you know the criteria for a one night stand is one night.

  Didn't know you were such a stickler for rules. Here I am aching to run my hands all over your body.

  Shay couldn’t help heat flare through her body, pooling in her centre, making her rub her knees together. Damn him. Just a text and he had her in pieces.

  No fair.

  I'll talk dirty to you.

  Shaking her head, Shay knew she had to put a stop to this conversation now.

  Stop tempting me. You know full well that to a girl like me, you are a bad news bear.

  Silence stretched.

  No chance you'll reform me then?

  You're more than I can handle.

  I'll be a pussycat if you handle me.

  Bye, Peter.

  Don't leave me here aching for you.

  Bye, Peter. I'm leaving now.

  Minx.

  Reading the last text, she ignored it. He was trying to draw her in. Part of her was itching to respond, but she knew the path that would lead down. She had conveyed the message loud and clear. What she didn't know was if it sunk in on the other end. Peter was used to getting his way and he may not accept being fobbed off.

  Jess wandered out into the living room. "Oh, my god, my head. Why did we have those tequilas? You alright?"

  "I'm good," Shay said, putting her phone away.

  Jess continued into the kitchen and boiled the jug. "What do you want to do today?"

  "I want to go somewhere."

  "Like where?"

  "Doesn't matter. How about Rochester?"

  "What's in Rochester?"

  Shay shrugged, thinking back to some ad she'd seen on the tube. Visit Rochester and its magnificent medieval cathedral, it had said. She didn't care what was there; she just wanted to be out of London, away from the offer he had laid at her door. Relenting would be disastrous. It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't truly tempted. It hadn't been a lie when she'd said it was the best sex she'd ever had. He'd expertly played her body like it was a fine instrument, taking her to heights she hadn't thought possible. Just a simple kiss undid her. No, she could not relent. She would be absolutely lost if she did. "A picnic might be nice," Shay suggested.

  "Old school. I like it. Nick's got a car. I'm sure we can sell an early summer picnic to him. Strawberries and cream and all that. A jug of Pimms maybe, but honestly, I don't get Pimms."

  Chapter 25

  * * *

  Lying in bed, Peter ran his hand across his bare stomach. It had been a long day. He'd had a session with his trainer and was pleased that his body was now getting back to normal. Tension ached though him and normally that would be an easily fixed issue—just a quick phone call, but he seemed to have developed a bit of a fixation. It wasn't so bad during the day, but when he came home, he noticed her absence. She'd only been there a few weeks, but he had gotten used to her hanging around. He also knew the fun they could have.

  She was out there somewhere, but he had no address for either her flat or her employment. All he had was her phone number. It wouldn't be impossible to sweet-talk her agency into giving him her addresses. Strictly not allowed, but he had a knack for getting what he wanted, except when it came to her. Again she had resisted his advances. In all honesty, he didn't quite know what to do. The last time he'd been rejected, relegated to second best, was with Alex and he'd reacted quite badly to it. Not something he was necessarily proud of, but he'd been so angry and disappointed with her, he'd lashed out. With Alex, it had been more than just a rejection of a bit of fun; it had been a fundamental rejection of everything he stood for. He still didn't think she'd made the right choice.

  Now, he was lying in bed, burning for another girl that proved elusive, and the worst was that he couldn't truly wrap his mind around considering an alternative.

  Leaning over, he grabbed his phone off the nightstand.

  Come over, he sent.

  It took a moment for her to respond and he waited, the silence of his apartment ring
ing in his ears. Maybe he should put some music on—distract himself.

  Can't.

  Of course you can. I'm plagued by naughty thoughts of you and they won't leave me alone.

  Go to sleep, Peter.

  Just come over. Please.

  If I come over and hang out at your place, and sleep with you. That would make me your girlfriend.

  Peter stared at the screen for a moment, holding his breath. It was a ludicrous statement. No it wouldn't. It would just be a thing.

  We had a thing. It lived and died in Turkey.

  You know I can make you feel like no one else can.

  The price is too high.

  There is no price.

  Yes, there is. Turning my phone off now. Sleep tight, Peter.

  With a huff, Peter dropped his phone. He didn't normally have to beg girls to come deal with him. This was embarrassing, but he seemed to be stuck in some kind of trap. That alone should indicate that maybe she was wise to resist this. But he wanted the ache and release, and the beauty of her body. He wanted her thighs to quiver for him, welcome him as if he was coming home.

  Groaning, he beat down his pillow, tried to think of something else. Normally he enjoyed a bit of desire burning through him, but this was going on too long, too brightly. The problem was that his only medium to reach her was limiting him. If he was with her in person, there was no way he couldn't work around her defences. But there was also a part of him that wanted her to come to him.

  Peter sat in the modernist café along the Embankment, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arm as he waited. A waitress delivered a coffee and he smiled absently to her.

  Turning his head, he saw Alex walk in through the door and scan the room until she spotted him. She wore a fitted navy suit and something gold underneath. Miss Corporate, Peter thought. So different from Shay, but both of them had tortured him in some capacity.

  "Peter," Alex said as she came over and sat down. "You look well."

  "Better than the last time you saw me."

  "Are you alright now?"

  "Of course."

  "Why did you want to see me?"

  "Pleasantries over," he commented. That was Alex: straight to business.

  "I have a proposition." He watched as Alex tensed up. "A job."

  Alex tried to hide how interested she was. She had missed advertising, Peter noted. Consulting wasn't as much fun. That would certainly help him in getting what he wanted. He could work with that.

  "What job?" she said guardedly. She didn't trust him. Peter smiled.

  "I need to run a team out of Shanghai."

  "Shanghai!?" Alex exclaimed.

  "The Chinese market is pumping and we need to put some dedicated resources to it."

  "I can't go to Shanghai."

  "Of course you can. Shanghai is exciting—a market that is building before your eyes. You'd make your name in a global capacity."

  "It's on the other side of the world."

  "You're not some backwater coal-town girl who's never left the country."

  "I can't just get up and leave. I'm in a relationship."

  Peter considered leaving it there, meaning she would have to dwell on the choice of leaving Marco or passing on a job she obviously really wanted. It would be an arsehole thing to do, and truly he wasn't above it, but he did want her to take the job, more than he wanted to mess with her. Perhaps his resentment wasn't entirely resolved, he considered. "My resource requirements could stretch to two."

  Alex's eyes pinned him, trying to assess if he was serious.

  "Think it over. There was actually something else I wanted to ask you about."

  "Are you saying you're offering a job for Marco as well as me? I can't move to Shanghai."

  "I'm offering you a way back into the industry."

  "I wouldn't be out of it if it wasn't for you."

  Peter shrugged. He wouldn't deny it—it was true. Peter's word had made her unemployable, but he was giving her a way back now.

  Alex scrunched up her hands. "Someday, you're going to find yourself murdered in a back alley."

  "For a job interview, this is going well."

  "Marco would never want to work for you."

  "I don't know. You'd be surprised." There was the possibility that he wouldn't want to, but he was a smart boy and Peter was the best in the industry. Marco would have a bit to gain by doing it. But then Peter wasn't going to push it—if he or Alex didn't want to take this opportunity, there were tons of others who would kill for it, maybe even better for the job. Perhaps this offer was his way of making up to Alex what he'd done to her. If she refused to forgive and move on, she was cutting off her nose to spite her face, and he had no time for her if that's how she acted. Someone who acted out of spite instead of their own interests or that of the company didn't belong there. "Let me know your answer next week. Now the other thing."

  "What other thing?" Alex asked. She was still worked up; her cheeks were rosy.

  "I need some advice."

  "Advice? From me?" Alex blinked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. "What exactly would you ask me for advice on?"

  Peter shifted in his seat. "There's this girl."

  "Uh oh," Alex said suspiciously.

  Peter didn't quite know how to verbalise this. "How do I? Get. A Girl?"

  Alex’s eyebrows rose and she just stared at him. "You've slept with over half of London."

  Peter stroked the back of his neck. "Yes, but she … won't. Technically she has, but now won't … again."

  Alex continued staring at him. "And you want to … get her back? Oh, my god. Poor girl." Peter narrowed his eyes "Do you want to, like, be with her?"

  "What? No."

  "Then … ?"

  "Maybe a little bit more." This was painful. He wasn't sure he'd ever had such an embarrassing conversation, but he really was stumped. Normally, he just clicked his fingers and they fell into his lap. When it came to working round a reticent Miss, he didn't really have much experience. He needed advice.

  "So you're trying to woo her," Alex stated. "What have you done so far?"

  "I've tried to get her to come over."

  "And she won't. What else can you try?"

  It was a topic he had thought over and the only things he could think of came across a little stalkerish even in his own mind. Peter shrugged. "I don't really have access to her except through the phone. She won't give me her address."

  Alex considered him. "Why do you want to do this? Just because she says no doesn't mean you have to change her mind. If she's saying no, maybe there's a reason for it."

  "She called me a bad news bear."

  Alex laughed. "And she's smart, too. Maybe you should just leave her be. Who is she?"

  "A nurse."

  "The girl I saw when I came to see you?"

  "Her."

  "And she's already slept with you."

  "Once. I followed her when she went on holiday."

  Alex groaned and dropped her forehead to her hands. "I know: why don't you get really drunk and sleep with some stripper, and forget all about her."

  "I don't do strippers. Maybe a burlesque dancer. I do have standards." Alex was giving his a withering look. "The point is: I can't seem to bring myself to."

  "Peter, are you in lurve?" Alex teased.

  "No," Peter said adamantly.

  She studied him disbelievingly. "So you can't get to her. She has to come to you, and from the sounds of it, she knows exactly what you are. I really shouldn't be helping you."

  "But you will."

  "She's a Kiwi, too. It's like I'm betraying one of my countrymen. Well, she has slept with you once, so she doesn't find you revolting. Unless you completely put her off."

  "I was the best she'd ever had." Alex rolled her eyes. "Her words, not mine," Peter added.

  "If you're going to have a chance to lure her back, you have to be honest."

  "I'm always honest."

  "You're sometimes ho
nest. You have to tell her how you feel," Alex said. Peter looked unimpressed. "She is a nurse; she responds to suffering." He could work with that. "But she's not stupid; she'll see through you. So you really have to suffer, and you have to let her know."

  That sounded much harder. "I can do that," he said, even if he wasn't entirely sure how. Maybe he really was too shallow to suffer.

  "She may never come around," Alex warned. He'd never actually accepted that as an outcome, and he never started out a campaign thinking he couldn't win it. "And what are you going to do if she does? Maybe you should seriously just leave her alone.

  Peter crossed his arms, recognising it would be the noble thing to do. Noble wasn't usually his natural state, and the state he was in at the moment was torturous. It had to end, but what if it didn't? What if he actually was in love with her? It was a ridiculous statement, but obviously the conclusion Alex had drawn. It couldn't be. Although saying that, Shay was the only person he’d missed. He missed her being there when he got home. He missed sparring with her. And he really missed fucking her. With a snort, he looked away.

  "You know how selling goes: it only works when you're selling something she wants. If it's a relationship she wants, she won’t accept anything less. She would have come over by now otherwise," Alex said, picking up her bag from the table. "I'd wish you luck, but I'm not sure I should."

  Chapter 26

  * * *

  Shay grabbed the ale the bartender had just poured. The bar was cute in the typically English way, overlooking the Thames, but it was too crowded to actually see the river from inside the bar. Instead they went outside, and walked along the grass where people were congregating along both sides of the river.

  "Every Kiwi and Aussie in London is here, I think," Jess said. "Apparently this is a must do for everyone who comes to London."

  "If we'll get to see anything."

  They were in Chiswick for the annual New Zealand vs Australia dragon boat racing. It was an excuse to get together and drink, more than anything. Even if they didn't get to see a thing, it was a day out, meeting people with the sun shining and the breeze warm. It was a lovely early summer's day.