by Kim Lawrence
Coffee was a good idea, though, she decided, heading in the direction of the kitchen. Miranda had a glossy designer kitchen with every gadget known to man, but usually no food. Hope had bought her own coffee; she couldn’t stomach the evil herbal tea that Miranda drank by the gallon. She wished she hadn’t thought about her stomach…
She stepped from the bedroom directly into the living area at the same moment someone else stepped out of the kitchen.
‘Oh, my God!’ she gasped, freezing. Alex was rubbing his still wet hair with a towel; his white shirt open to the waist revealing his broad chest in all its glory. He’d been wearing that shirt last night. Last night! She groaned. ‘How could you?’ she wailed. ‘I was drunk.’
‘As a skunk,’ he agreed cheerfully. ‘How could I what, Hope? Do you want coffee. I’d offer you a good old-fashioned fry-up,’ he said cruelly, ‘except I can only find balsamic vinegar, herbal tea and brioches in the kitchen. The brioches are stale.’
‘They were fresh yesterday.’ Or had it been the day before? Her appetite hadn’t been up to much lately. ‘You’re getting married,’ she said suddenly. She’d discovered the reason for that nebulous feeling of doom and disaster she’d been experiencing ever since she’d woken.
‘Am I to infer from that wild look there are some gaps in your memory?’
‘I don’t think I want to remember.’ Her eyes watched with horrified fascination as the muscles glided and bunched under his olive-toned skin when he looped the towel about his neck.
‘You didn’t get up on the tables or anything.’
Hope glared at him with loathing. ‘It’s not my public performance I’m worried about.’ She sat down before her legs folded. ‘Do you mind?’ Her eyes flashed and she tugged her gown a few centimetres lower as she caught the direction of his gaze.
‘Last night you weren’t so modest.’
‘I don’t want to hear about last night. I don’t know how you can stand there looking so smug. You’re about to marry another woman.’ Her hand went to her mouth as a bit more of the previous evening slipped back into place. ‘Next week!’ she squeaked. ‘You’re a faithless, lying swine. How dare you laugh?’ Was there no end to his iniquities?
‘You’re assuming that you’re irresistible.’
‘Are you trying to tell me we didn’t…?’
Head on one side, he regarded her with an expression of exaggerated amazement to match her own. ‘Amazing as it might seem to you, I prefer my women conscious. Snoring is a big turn-off too,’ he reflected thoughtfully.
Hope could feel the tide of warm colour wash over her skin. ‘Well, why didn’t you say so straight away?’
‘I didn’t want to spoil your righteous indignation. Last night you were a kitten and this morning a dragon. The transformation is fascinating.’
Kitten? What did he mean, kitten? It sounded pretty damn alarming to her. ‘What was I supposed to think? I was stark naked…’
‘Almost.’
‘Well, if you’re going to be pedantic—’ she began. ‘How did you know that?’ she asked with the return of suspicion.
‘I undressed you when I carried you to bed. I didn’t want you to suffocate in the night. That blue thing looked pretty tight to me.’
The thought of him undressing her made the downy hairs on the nape of her neck stand on end. ‘What the hell are you still doing here? If you didn’t—’ She winced. Her voice was high, bordering on shrill.
‘Have my wicked way with you? No, Hope, those are the bits you dreamed. I thought you might be ill during the night.’
The implication that her dreams were X-rated and included him made her squirm uncomfortably. Hopefully it was a wild guess. The idea that under the influence she’d confided the contents of the vivid dreams she’d been experiencing just lately made her grow cold with horror. ‘Well, I wasn’t!’ she snapped back ungratefully. ‘Was I?’ Her eyes clouded with dismay. Wasn’t her humiliation bad enough without that?
‘No, you weren’t. You look terrible this morning, though. What do you usually take after a bender?’
‘I wouldn’t know. That was my first.’ And last, she thought, lifting her hand to her throbbing head. ‘Unless you count the bottle of cider we drank in the barn when we were thirteen.’
‘What made you start last night?’
She eyed him resentfully. What does he expect me to say? I found out you were marrying someone else and I wanted to dull the pain! God, I probably already told him. Desperately she tried to piece together the fragmented memories of the previous evening. It would help if she knew what indiscretions had passed her lips…
‘Won’t Rebecca wonder where you are?’
‘She knows where I am.’
‘She must trust you.’ Her lips quivered slightly and she firmly clamped them together.
‘I’ll get you coffee.’
‘I am thirsty.’
‘Dehydration. Alcohol plays havoc with your electrolyte balance.’ He sounded knowledgeable on the subject, but Hope didn’t understand or care.
The bitter aroma of the coffee curled in her nostrils as she sipped the scalding liquid. ‘Should I apologise for my behaviour last night?’
She tried to make it sound as if his reply wasn’t that important. She was painfully sober now, and she knew, as desperate as she was to have him love her, she couldn’t make it obvious. In fact, it was imperative she hid it! Last night the barriers had been down. She didn’t like to contemplate what she might have revealed then.
‘You were charming last night. If you discount the singing.’
Hope tried to detect any sign of deceit on his face. Perhaps he was tactfully sparing her blushes. He never had done so before, she reminded herself. ‘I don’t sing. I was only in the choir to make up numbers at school— I had to mime.’
‘A very wise decision on someone’s part.’
‘What happened to Jon? Why didn’t he bring me home?’
‘He anticipated a scene.’
She knew Jonathan; she didn’t need any further explanations. ‘What happened to the scene?’
‘I averted it.’
‘When I’ve got more than your word to go on I might even say thank you.’
Alex ignored the chrome chair and squatted down on his haunches. ‘Tell me, why is not being in love with you such an important pre-requisite to being your agent?’
‘What makes you think that?’ She shot him a shocked look.
‘Just something you said,’ he said casually.
My first agent, Hugh—our relationship strayed away from the purely professional. Which was fine at first, but he…’
‘Fell in love with you?’
Hope nodded. She’d been shocked when he’d asked her to marry him and move to the East Coast. ‘It got messy.’
‘You didn’t love him?’
She raised her sad eyes to his face. ‘He accused me of using him. I think I was, in a way. I was only nineteen and a long way from home. I did rely on him a lot.’
‘Some people might say he took advantage of you.’
‘Oh, no, it wasn’t like that. He was my friend. Perhaps he will be again one day.’
Alex’s expression seemed to indicate he didn’t think much of this idea. ‘Do you defend all your friends?’
‘If the need arises, I hope so.’
‘Hope.’ There was urgency in his voice as he fell forward onto his knees. ‘There’s something I have to tell—’
Hope was experiencing urgency of her own. ‘I’m going to be ill,’ she announced, jumping to her feet. Hand over her mouth, she fled to the bathroom, leaving him watching her with an expression of seething frustration on his face.
When she returned, pale, but feeling slightly less fragile, the room was full of people—at least that was the way it seemed to her. Her dazed eyes located Miranda standing next to Alex. She was wearing transparent baggy harem-style trousers, a beaded purple top that revealed a large portion of her midriff and a scarf wrapped turban-s
tyle around her head.
‘Disaster!’ she said dramatically, surging forward with her hand still firmly attached to Alex’s arm. ‘There was a terrorist bomb in the hotel. Chaos! The noise, dust, sirens. We were all packed off early. I invited everyone back for a bite to eat—but wouldn’t you know it? There’s no food. I’ve sent out for some breakfast. Do you want…?’
‘I’ve already eaten,’ Hope said hastily. ‘Was anyone hurt?’
‘Fortunately not, but it really got the adrenaline flowing. I think someone called it the old blitz spirit, whatever that is. And you, how’s your adrenaline doing?’ She slid a sly look at Alex.
‘I was just congratulating Alex on his engagement.’
The humour died from Miranda’s face. ‘Isn’t that nice?’ Her green eyes were clouded with sympathy. ‘Tell me, Alex, have you ever thought of posing? I’ve joined this art class and—’
‘Thanks for the offer,’ Alex said with admirable composure. ‘But I’ve a pretty heavy schedule.’
‘Well, if you change your mind.’
‘She means well,’ Hope said as Miranda drifted away.
‘I’m flattered.’ A steely expression of determination entered his eyes. ‘This isn’t what I had in mind, but we really should talk.’
‘Actually, I think I’ll go back to my bed before one of this lot bags it. I’m feeling a bit…’ She shrugged. ‘I know its self-induced, but…’
‘You don’t have to explain. I’ve been there. I’ve got a busy week, but…’
‘I expect you’re trying to tidy loose ends. Are you going on a honeymoon?’ she asked brightly.
‘About that, Hope…’
She hit out at the hand which was extended towards her. ‘Oh, God!’ she burst out, her self-control deserting her. ‘Spare me the details!’ Aware that her explosion had coincided with a lull in the general conversation, she wanted to sink through the floor. Instead she ran to her bedroom and locked the door.
CHAPTER NINE
BEING picked up at the airport by Sam Rourke had impressed her fellow models, who weren’t aware of the family connection. Several flashbulbs went off as they left the terminal. Supermodels and Hollywood actors always made good copy, and in tandem they were irresistible. Her sister was waiting in the car and she drove swiftly off once the two passengers had got in.
‘Good flight, Hope?’
‘I’ve known worse.’ Hope leaned forward to affectionately press a kiss to her sister’s cheek before she belted herself into the back of the car. ‘Well, there’s no need to ask if you two had a good time?’ Above and beyond her golden tan, Lindy had a definite glow.
The back of her sister’s neck went a deep shade of carnation-pink as she drove, but her new husband grinned, unperturbed by the remark.
‘You were cutting it fine, godmother,’ Sam remarked. Hope had the impression his light, teasing remark was intended to take the attention off his wife, though she couldn’t see why. It would seem Sam was getting incredibly protective.
‘I prefer to call it split-second timing.’
She’d jumped at the unexpected offer of a fashion shoot in Colorado. Being several thousand miles away when Alex was tying the knot with Rebecca seemed like too good an opportunity to miss. ‘I said I wouldn’t miss the christening, and here I am. Besides, I promised Mum and Dad I’d spend Christmas at home this year. It’s the first time in ages we’ve all been together. Not that it’ll be the same as old times.’ She knew that this evolution was natural—both her sisters were married now—but all the same a hint of wistfulness entered her voice.
‘It’ll be better,’ Lindy said softly.
The small, intimate smile Hope saw the two exchange brought a lump to her throat. ‘You two are staying on, then?’ She felt ashamed of the envy in her heart. If anyone deserved to be happy it was Lindy.
‘Sure,’ Sam confirmed. ‘Shall I tell her?’ Hope saw his hand tighten on his wife’s thigh.
‘Tell me what?’
‘Once I get out of the car it’ll be pretty obvious,’ Lindy replied drily.
Hope caught her breath. ‘You’re pregnant. When…?’
‘Shall we just say a week later and the wedding dress wouldn’t have fitted.’
‘You didn’t breathe a word,’ Hope gasped. ‘You sly pair!’
‘You’re supposed to say congratulations,’ Sam reminded her.
‘What? Oh, yes—congratulations. It’s marvellous. I’m so happy for you both.’ It was crazy to feel excluded, surrounded by all this happiness, but all the same… ‘Am I the last to know?’ She wasn’t about to let the shadow of her self-pity spoil her sister’s happiness. ‘As usual,’ she responded with mock chagrin as Lindy nodded. ‘Are Mum and Dad excited?’ She sat back to listen to Lindy’s comical description of their parents’ reactions.
Beth Lacey greeted her daughter with a passable imitation of a whirlwind.
‘There’s no time to waste, Hope. I’ve laid your clothes out—the ones you said you wanted. No, you haven’t got time for a shower,’ she chided as she directed her daughter firmly towards the stairs. ‘Charlie, you can’t possibly wear that tie!’ Hope heard her mother say as she reached her bedroom.
Other than the smell of fresh paint, and the lack of worn spots on the carpet, the house looked much the same as ever. Hand on the door handle, she let her eyes pause over-long on the spot where Alex—where she and Alex… She swallowed hard, trying to block out the steamy memories of how they’d made love just there—well, almost.
She shook her head. I’ve got to stop doing this she told herself firmly, he’s someone else’s husband now. She’d spent the last two weeks flirting wildly with every eligible male in sight. The therapy hadn’t worked, but the press corps had loved the unusual photo opportunities.
Each night in her solitary room she’d cried tears that were in no way cathartic.
‘You look lovely. Doesn’t she, Charlie?’
‘Always,’ her father agreed loyally.
The tailored single-breasted suit she wore was made of olive-green wool. The Cossack-style fur fabric hat matched the trim around the collar and wrists of the jacket.
‘Have Sam and Lindy already gone?’
‘Don’t worry, we’re not late,’ her mother said soothingly.
‘Woman, you’ve never been late in your life.’
‘I take it you did remember to get petrol?’ Beth responded tartly.
Charlie Lacey raised his hand to his brow. ‘Oh, God.’ He grinned as the panic spread across his wife’s face. ‘Just teasing.’
‘Why, you—!’
‘If you two don’t stop squabbling we will be late,’ Hope reminded them, watching the gentle banter with a smile.
A pale wintry sun bathed the ancient stone church in soft light as they walked up the gravelled pathway.
‘Hope! It’s perfect now. Jake got back from his travels last night, so we’re all here. Oops, watch the baby.’ Anna switched her son to the opposite hip and hugged her sister. ‘You’re to sit with the other godparents. It’s double everything with twins,’ she laughed.
‘Did I hear my name? Hello, beautiful.’ Hope was enfolded in an enthusiastic embrace.
‘Watch the hat!’
Jake was the sort of person women smiled at. The resemblance between the tall young man and Adam, his uncle, was more striking than ever.
‘Like the beard,’ she teased, pointing to the goatee on his chin.’
‘If it makes me look sensitive and interesting, it’s working.’
‘Sit down, Jake,’ Anna instructed imperiously. ‘You make the place untidy.’
‘Yes, Aunty dear,’ came the meek response. ‘Can Hope sit by me?’ he begged as he took his seat beside his sister, Kate, and his small twin brothers.
‘No, you’ll bore her with your tales of adventure and danger. And it’s all wildly exaggerated—he spent most of the time in youth hostels. I hope. You sit here, Hope.’
The smile at Jake’s nonsense froze on her li
ps, but there was no humour in her startled blue eyes. Not even sisterly love or family loyalty would have brought her here if she’d suspected little Joe didn’t have a substitute godfather. Alex should be on his honeymoon. What was he doing here?
She’d been standing immobile too long. It wasn’t just Anna who was beginning to eye her with concern. He couldn’t be here. Hallucination was one possibility that was quickly banished; he was much too substantial and real for that.
A baby’s strident cry broke her out of her trance.
‘Here, hold this one.’
Hope stiffened as the warm bundle was placed in her arms.
‘Come and sit down before you drop him.’
There was only appeal in the blue eyes that fluttered to Alex’s face. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
Hope found herself squashed in beside Lindy, who wriggled closer to her husband. ‘Room for one more small one,’ she said to Alex.
Hope didn’t know which was more distracting, the baby on her lap or the iron thigh jammed up against her. ‘He’s not small.’
‘You’re no waif yourself, angel.’ The arm he’d placed across the back of the wooden pew touched her shoulders lightly. A shiver rippled through her body.
‘It is cold in here, isn’t it?’ Lindy murmured ingeniously in a soft voice. ‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’
For an embarrassing instant Hope imagined that her sister was talking about Alex. She blushed hotly as she swiftly appreciated the absurdity of her error.
Light fingers lifted her hair and brushed the nape of her neck. ‘You feel quite warm to me.’ The faint rasp of his fingertips against her skin sent white-hot threads of longing through her trembling body. ‘Young Jake seems a big fan of yours.’
‘Oh, we’re joined at the hip,’ she snapped. ‘For heaven’s sake, Alex, he’s a boy. I suppose you think I’m a cradle-snatcher too.’ She was tired of him eagerly misinterpreting the most innocent action.
‘He’s a lot closer to your age than I am.’ Surely there wasn’t a hint of dissatisfaction in his voice. Alex? Jealous of Jake? Impossible, she told herself.