by Lee, Mandy
‘Such as?’
‘Such as? Well, why this, for a start? Why lure me up here without letting me know what was going on?’
‘We didn’t want to take any chances.’
‘Bloody rich. You’ve been keeping me in the dark … again. You didn’t trust me.’
He takes another shifty step toward me. And I take one back, pointing at him.
‘Stop right there. You didn’t trust me, did you?’
‘We couldn’t let you know what was going on. Foultons advised …’
Oh, that again.
‘I don’t care what Foultons advised. You promised.’
‘I know, but we had to keep it simple. Lucy might have found out.’
‘I could have dealt with that.’
‘You’ve had enough to deal with.’
‘Yes,’ I shout, making him start. ‘I’ve had plenty to deal with. Weeks of shit, thank you very much. You didn’t get in touch with me, you pulled out of Slaters, you didn’t sell Fosters, not one word of reassurance, and then …’ I splutter, pointing at him again, ‘you went and got yourself another woman.’
He takes another small step.
‘Stop!’
‘Never.’
Well, that’s more like it. Determined to get what he wants, the old Daniel Foster hasn’t completely disappeared.
‘Leave me alone.’
‘Impossible.’
‘I wait three sodding months for you and the first time you see me, you talk to me like I’m … shit on your shoe.’
‘Interesting phrase.’
‘What?’
‘Every time I’ve ever had shit on my shoe, I’ve never bothered talking to it.’
‘You’re not funny.’
‘If you say so.’
He’s moving again, inching forward little by little until he’s close enough to touch me. I’d edge further backwards but I seem to have a sofa behind me now. If I end up on that, he’ll be on top of me before I can take a breath.
Suddenly, he grabs my arm. Curling long fingers around my flesh, he tugs me in close and seals his mouth against mine. Immediately and without the slightest hesitation, I let myself down, kissing him back with a vengeance and enjoying every single second of it: the softness of his lips, the touch of his tongue. It goes on for an eternity, giving me more than enough time to realise what’s going on. He’s lost patience with being patient, and now he’s reverting to the usual battle plan – shock and awe.
‘It was all an act,’ he breathes, when he’s finally had his fill.
‘Well, it was a fucking good act,’ I breathe back. ‘You were all over that tart like a rash.’
‘Enough of the clichés, Maya. It was an elaborate ruse.’
‘Elaborate ruse, my arse. You were enjoying it.’
‘Trust me. I wasn’t.’
‘Did you kiss her?’
‘No.’
‘Did you fuck her?’
‘Certainly not.’ A hand comes to my buttocks, pressing me into his crotch. ‘This thing belongs to you.’ And judging by the feel of it, he’s primed and ready for action. ‘Are we through with the ranting yet?’ Keeping me tight in his grip, he searches my face for signs of an answer.
Finally, my brain clicks back into action.
‘Condescending twat. Just because you kissed my face off, it doesn’t mean we’re good. I’ve got plenty more ranting to do yet. Now get off me.’
With a shrug, he releases me, steps back and makes his way towards a bar.
‘Okay. But would you like a drink while you’re at it?’
Astounded by his sudden nonchalance and silently amazed he’s still in full possession of a sexy walk, even after everything he’s been through, I watch as he carefully places the necklace on the counter.
‘You’re asking for it, Mr Foster.’
‘I’ll be begging for it before long.’ He lifts a bottle. ‘This is a seriously nice Pinot, by the way.’
‘And you’re a serious piece of work.’
‘Thank you.’
He pours a glass and brings it over to me.
With a petulant sneer, I take it.
‘Don’t throw that over me,’ he warns. ‘It’s expensive stuff.’
‘I can do better than chucking a glass of wine at you.’
‘I know you can.’ Beating a hasty retreat, he lowers himself onto a sofa, smiles and straightens his jacket. ‘To be perfectly honest, I kind of banked on you falling into my arms as soon as you saw me. I obviously got that bit wrong. You’re angry. I get it.’ Every last bit of playfulness evaporates. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch and I’m sorry for the way I treated you, but you need to understand two things: none of it was real … and all of it was necessary.’ He holds my gaze. ‘So, if you’d like to join me …’ He pats the space next to him. ‘I’ll explain the details. And then you can forgive me. And then you can fall into my arms.’
‘I wouldn’t bank on it.’
‘Oh come on, Maya. It’s inevitable.’
And you know it, a voice niggles at the back of my head. Totally inevitable. Within the next half an hour, you’ll be writhing around on some luxury Art Deco bed with Mr Foster seeing to your every want and need. I sip at the wine, watching as he leans back and crosses his legs. I catch a wince, just a slight one.
‘Are you in pain?’ I ask. In the midst of the confusion and anger and lust, I’ve pushed all thoughts of the accident right out of my mind.
‘No,’ he answers crisply.
‘But you winced.’
‘My pants are too tight.’
‘There isn’t a millionaire on the planet whose pants are too tight.’
‘I’m an exception to the rule.’
From the steely glint in his eyes, I can tell I’m not about to get the truth. He’s working to his own agenda, and I’ll just have to add ‘obvious signs of discomfort’ to the list of things he can explain later. Warily, I take a seat on the opposite sofa and set down my glass on the coffee table.
‘Well?’ I open.
‘Where shall I start?’
‘The beginning’s a good place.’
His eyes flicker.
‘So it is. Okay, let’s go back in time. I had music played for you in that wine bar. Remember?’
I nod.
‘I wanted you to know I was there, that I was thinking about you. I had somebody drop by to Slaters to reel you in.’
I flick back through the memories. The brogue-wearing jazz fan. Massive cushions. Expensive wine. Music.
‘He bribed the barman to play a few songs, our songs, with a little addition. ‘I’ll Wait for You’.’
‘Nice touch,’ I mutter reluctantly.
‘And what harm could it do? That’s what I thought. Turns out I’d made the first mistake.’ He pauses. ‘Boyd smelt a rat.’
And now I’m thinking of broken veins and sunken eyes, an idiotic smile aimed in the wrong direction.
‘There was a man in there. He was watching me. I didn’t know whether he was one of yours or one of theirs.’
‘One of theirs,’ Dan confirms. ‘That night, Boyd contacted Clive. He wanted to know what we were playing at.’
‘It was my fault. I made it too obvious.’
‘It was my fault. I shouldn’t have put you in that situation. You couldn’t help reacting the way you did.’ His lips twitch. He’s half-teasing me. And why wouldn’t he? After all, I may be a little prickly at the minute but despite everything that’s happened, I’m utterly and completely in love with this man … and he knows it. ‘Clive did his best to smooth things over but Boyd wasn’t convinced. So, I didn’t contact you again. I didn’t dare.’ His eyes search mine for understanding. ‘Are you with me so far?’
I nod again, already convinced I’ve grabbed the wrong end of the stick. In fact, if I’m not much mistaken, I’ve grabbed the wrong stick altogether.
‘I know it was hard for you.’ He watches me closely. ‘Trust me, I conjured up endless ways of getting
messages to you and every single time, I thought better of it. I couldn’t take any chances. I can’t tell you how many letters I wrote with broken wrists. It takes forever, you know.’ He pauses, raising both arms. ‘They’re okay now, by the way. Thanks for asking.’
Suddenly, I’m washed through with shame. I should have asked before.
‘You’re better then?’
‘Physically fine. Bones heal, but this thing.’ He touches his chest, just where his heart is. ‘This isn’t feeling too good right now.’
‘But you winced. I saw it.’
‘Underpants,’ he says sternly, dismissing my concern. ‘Now, let’s address a few facts here.’ He draws in a breath, and goes on briskly. ‘We tried to track Boyd, but it’s been impossible. He’s used a different mobile every time, and then dumped it. I got a new phone, a new number, and so did Clive, but somehow Boyd always managed to get in touch again. I had no idea what he was capable of or how he was getting his information. I pulled out of Slaters because there was no way I could keep it a secret. If I’d gone ahead with the deal, Boyd would have found out.’ He uncrosses his legs, winces again and leans forward. ‘I’ve known Gordon since university. We haven’t been in touch that often, so he was an ideal wing-man. Seeing as I couldn’t buy Slaters, I asked him to step in and keep it safe for me.’
‘You’re still buying?’ I ask. In spite of a good infusion of endorphins, confusion and jet-lag are still doing their best to scramble my brain. I’m not being too quick tonight.
‘Of course.’ He cocks his head to one side. ‘I’m going to need something to keep me occupied when Fosters is gone.’
‘You are selling it? But I thought you were expanding.’
He laughs.
‘Rumours of expansion. Nothing concrete. Fosters needs to be in a good position when the time comes. In reality, I’ve been working on the sale behind the scenes. It’s a long process. The Board are in on the deal, but it’s top secret for the time being. We can’t have anyone smelling weakness.’
‘I thought you’d changed your mind.’
‘Why would I do that?’ He gets up, heads straight for the window and looks out over Central Park. ‘I’ve made the right decision,’ he says quietly, ‘and I’m sticking by it.’
I sit in silence, stunned by it all.
‘And just in case you’re thinking I’m a rich, up-his-own-arse twat …’ He turns back to me. ‘I’m doing my best to sell Fosters as a going concern, trying to protect as many of those jobs as possible, but beyond that I can’t be responsible for everyone who works there … not any more.’
He takes off his jacket and throws it over the back of a chair.
‘Norman’s finally retired, by the way.’
‘He has?’
He nods. ‘Betty’s not too happy about it. He’s under her feet all the time now. Jodie’s started her beauty course. I’m happy to report there have been no more drug sprees. And lately, she’s even taken to wearing things that aren’t pink.’
At the thought of the pink princess, my face relaxes and my lips curve upwards.
‘Bingo.’ Satisfied he’s nearly there, he moves back toward me, slowly. ‘I knew you’d come round.’
‘Big head.’
‘I love you, Maya. I never stopped loving you. I never stopped thinking about you. The last few weeks … they’ve been torture for both of us.’
My breathing becomes shallow again. I’m melting under his gaze, on the verge of getting up and throwing myself at him. But before I do, there’s one final matter that needs a little explanation.
‘So, about what happened at the nightclub?’
He rubs his forehead, closing his eyes for a second.
‘It was the last thing I wanted, but it had to be done … and it had to be convincing.’
He edges past the coffee table and sits next to me, his hand brushing against my thigh. My body tingles. We’re getting close to the end game. He’s homing in for the kill.
‘Things had been quiet for a while,’ he explains. ‘Foultons were busy protecting you and me, searching for Boyd. Bill’s contacts got involved, but we couldn’t find him. I got out of hospital, went back to work, did what I needed to do. And then things went a little pear-shaped.’
I look up. His eyes have darkened now.
‘The day before I saw you at the nightclub. I got a call from Boyd. He said he knew what we were up to, and I had to put it right.’
‘How did he know?’
‘He wouldn’t say, but …’
‘Me,’ I interrupt, flushing with embarrassment. ‘Turning up at Fosters.’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ He lays a hand on my leg. ‘And I don’t blame you for it. I know about Claudine’s involvement.’
‘You do?’
‘You were followed, every single minute of every day. I had reports.’
My thoughts stumble over themselves. So, if it wasn’t my mad stalking episode, then it must have been the ridiculous phone call to Lily.
‘Did you hack my mobile?’
‘It was tracked, not hacked. Who you call and what you say is your business. I trusted you to make the right decisions.’
And he must already know I made a wrong decision. If he didn’t listen in on my phone call, then Lily must have told him about it herself. I’m about to admit to a huge bout of stupidity when he floors me with something else.
‘It was the letter. I’m sure of it.’
‘What letter?’
‘The one from Layla. She did write to me.’
‘Oh shit.’
He squeezes my thigh, gently.
‘She apologised for what happened, said she hoped I was okay, and told me about Sophie, who’s moved back to Limmingham, by the way. And then she said she knew the truth, that the split was a sham.’
I let my head fall into my hands.
‘I didn’t want to tell her. Honestly, I didn’t. But she went to pieces. I’m sorry, Dan. I made her promise not to say anything. I made her promise to wait.’
‘It’s okay. I understand.’
I look up again to find him smiling.
‘She’s my sister. Maybe we both inherited the impatient gene.’
‘But still …’ I opened the bag and let the cat right out of it. How could he possibly understand?
‘Sophie’s ill. Layla’s had a hard time of it. I can see why you told her.’
‘Did you write back?’
‘No,’ he answers quickly. ‘I’ll make contact when I’m ready.’
And this isn’t the time to quiz him on that particular matter. Instead, I move on with something else.
‘But how would Boyd know about the letter?’
‘It arrived at the penthouse. I was down in Surrey. Normally, the concierge keeps my post secure, but he was on holiday. The stand-in didn’t quite understand procedures. The letter was downstairs in the lobby, in a pile on the desk. It had been there for a few days before I picked it up.’
‘Had it been opened?’
‘Maybe. It’s hard to tell, but it’s the only thing I can think of.’
I let out a quiet sigh of relief. He definitely doesn’t know about the phone call. I could tell him now, but I’d rather not. I’m already feeling like a prize idiot and I can’t really see what difference a confession would make. Whether it’s down to Layla’s letter or Boyd tapping my phone, the damage has already been done. And whatever Dan says, it’s been done by me. All we can do now is deal with the fallout.
‘I had to do something,’ he says. ‘And I had to do it quickly. That’s why I rigged up the meeting at the club. That’s why I made a show of it. I just hope it did the trick.’
‘I’d be amazed if it didn’t.’
‘I never wanted to hurt you, Maya, but I couldn’t let you know the truth. There was no safe way to do it. I can play the heartless bastard. I’ve had years of practice. But if you’d known what was really going on, would you have been able to play your part so well?’
‘I
could have had a damn good try.’
He laughs, his eyes dancing.
‘Your acting isn’t up to much.’
‘Well, I’m an artist, not an actress, not like Little Miss No Tits.’
‘I love it when you’re jealous.’ He bites back a grin. ‘I’m assuming you’re referring to my so-called girlfriend.’
I can’t help it. My lips pull back into a sneer. I must look like a rabid dog.
‘That woman was paid a significant amount of money,’ he explains. ‘Provided by Foultons. Fully vetted. Back story. The lot.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’ He shakes his head. ‘You lost faith.’
‘And can you blame me?’
‘Don’t believe a thing you see. That’s what I said.’
‘And I tried. But it took so long.’
He leans in, ever so slightly, and drapes an arm behind my head. I want the talking to stop now, but we’re not finished yet.
‘Why did you go to that club?’ he asks.
Oh God. Of course he’d know about that, my desperate search for an escape. I know he understands. It was because I’d been rejected, because I felt useless. I needed to let the pain rush through me, and simply forget it all.
‘I cracked,’ I admit, feeling small and pathetic.
‘We’re only human.’ He skims a fingertip against the back of my neck. ‘What do you think this is? All this cloak and dagger crap? This is me cracking. I can’t take it any more, not being with you.’
The finger circles slowly, and I close my eyes, soaking up the glorious sensation of his touch.
‘But he’ll find out.’
‘Not if I can help it.’
‘He’ll know you’re here.’
‘No, he won’t. Officially, I’m in Bermuda. It’s all a risk, but we couldn’t go on the way we were. Look at me, Maya.’
I open my eyes and what I see sets a glow in my heart. Contentment. Tenderness. Pure love. Yet again, I’ve been the queen of difficult, but he’s battered against my defences, and broken them down.
‘Can we get to the bit where you fall into my arms now?’ He gives me that boyish grin. ‘Please?’
‘Oh, why not?’
I sink against his chest, allowing his arms to close around me, relieved that after all this time I’m finally back where I belong. In a split second, the floodgates open. I begin to cry, spilling out all the anger and frustration in one fell swoop. And through it all he holds me tight, smoothing my hair, rocking me gently, occasionally pulling back to kiss my forehead and tell me everything’s going to be fine. Finally, a handkerchief appears in front of my face. With a sob, I take it and put it to good use. When I’ve sorted myself out, he stands and urges me to my feet. Signalling for me to wait, he goes back over to the bar and picks up the necklace. Turning my back to him, I hold up my hair, allowing him to place the sweet pea back around my neck. He seals the clasp.