by Lucy Coleman
‘I believe so. We’re an unlikely pair, aren’t we? And I hate to admit it, but I did inwardly groan when she put your name forward. I mean, I’m not undervaluing your work or anything, as you sell more books than I do. But I didn’t think we’d have anything much in common aside from the basics of the publishing industry. Shows how wrong a person can be.’
I snuggle in closer to him, enthralled by the feeling of skin on skin. It’s both comforting and thrilling at the same time. For the first time ever, I feel safe because I trust him implicitly. Uh-oh. Alarm bells start ringing. Isn’t this exactly what I’ve just warned Mel about doing? That first rush when your mind is clouded by the chemical and hormonal effects of lust on your body?
‘I need to shower and get dressed. I think one of us should be downstairs, ready for when the group arrive back.’
Reluctantly, I raise myself up on my elbows, preparing to jump out of bed. Arran places his hand very gently on my thigh and I gaze down at him.
‘Do you want some company?’ he enquires.
My head says no, enough, but my body is crying out for more. Dare I brazenly expose my entire body? It’s one thing being naked lying down, another to walk around as if I don’t care what I look like, because I do.
‘Is this just sex, or is this something a little more?’ It sounds blunt when I say it like that, but it’s an honest enough question.
Suddenly Arran is sitting up next to me and he pulls me into his arms.
‘I don’t know what this is because it’s a first for me. You seem to have gotten under my skin, lady. I’m not even sure I’m comfortable with that. It sort of feels like I’m not in control any more. Maybe you’ve bewitched me.’
He drops his mouth down onto my shoulder, his lips soft against my skin.
‘Okay. Seems like we have a bit of a thing going on here. And yes, I’d love some company. One of my favourite scenes to write takes place in the shower.’
Arran begins laughing. ‘I hope I don’t disappoint.’
Something in the pit of my stomach tells me he won’t. And I’m beyond caring what I look like because Arran seems just fine with it.
*
We manage to head back downstairs a few minutes before we hear voices as the group follow the path down from the rear gate. There’s a lot of laughing and high spirited banter going on. Arran takes hold of my hand for one brief moment, pulling me into him. His freshly bandaged hand lies at his side, bruised and no doubt quite painful.
‘It’s going to be tough keeping up a professional appearance around you, Brie. If I get it wrong, just let me know.’
I place my other hand against his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart and knowing mine is doing the exact same thing.
‘We can do this, Arran.’
He kisses the tip of my nose before reluctantly pulling away. ‘What do we say about my hand?’
I shrug, casting around for something that doesn’t sound too lame.
‘Why don’t you say you slipped getting out of the pool and advise everyone to be careful. It’s believable.’
He nods and suddenly everyone is piling in.
‘How was the meal?’ Arran asks, becoming the perfect host once more.
‘Wonderful,’ Silvia confirms, glancing quickly between the two of us. ‘Oh, Arran, that looks bad. Whatever happened to your hand?’
My mouth goes dry under everyone’s gaze.
‘I slipped on the terrace after getting out of the pool. Stupid of me but it could have been worse. At least nothing’s broken and it’s just a graze, so people beware. Anyway, enough of my clumsiness. Anyone in the mood for dancing? Maybe we should push the tables to one side, set up a mini-bar and I’ll get the music going.’
Faces instantly light up. It’s not long before everyone, except Rick, is up and throwing themselves around to the strains of an Italian song I doubt any of us have ever heard before. After a couple of dances Arran catches my eye and nods, indicating in the direction of the library. He saunters off and I wait a couple of minutes before following him.
As soon as I pass through the line of trees and step out onto the grassy area in front of the library, he’s there in front of me. We literally fall into each other’s arms and he kisses me until I have to pull away to catch my breath.
‘Do you think anyone has noticed anything different between us?’
‘Only Silvia and she’s a rather discreet lady by nature, I think,’ Arran admits.
I shrug, and he slips his arms down around my waist, wincing a little as his bruised hand makes contact. I relax against him, thinking how wonderful it is to be in the arms of a man again. But not just any man. Arran is different.
‘A party atmosphere must have been the last thing you needed tonight,’ I whisper, looking up at him.
‘Maybe it was exactly what I needed. Well, second only to that little surprise earlier on which served to raise my spirits no end!’
We laugh, conspiratorially.
‘I’ve sort of put my problems to one side for tonight. It’s not something I can easily solve. I need to face up to the fact that maybe there is no solution and I’m wasting my energy fighting the inevitable. My mother rang, that was the phone call when you returned to the room. She has money of her own and has offered to lend me the next payment to give me thinking time.’
Arran seems impressed by that but I’m not. Making him a gift of the money would have been a real demonstration of her support for him. What use is money sitting in the bank when you have everything you need, anyway? I know my mum and dad would give me their last penny without a second thought if I needed it.
‘Will you take it?’
He loosens his grip and I tilt back a little, so I can see his face more clearly in the half light.
‘I don’t know. She said she would talk to my father when he calms down. I’ve never known them to have opposing opinions on something before. My mother isn’t an emotional woman and if she thinks he’ll regret his decision if I end up losing the villa, then that’s quite a telling thing.’
I stare into his eyes, letting him see my concern. ‘I meant what I said. I have a little over sixty thousand pounds in the bank if that helps.’
He tips his head back to let out a sigh that seems to come from deep down inside him.
‘I don’t deserve your kindness, Brie. But I got myself into this mess and I don’t want to drain the resources of those around me who are kind enough to offer help. It wouldn’t be right, and my conscience won’t allow that. If it all went wrong, then you’d have to wait until I sold the villa to get your money back. That wouldn’t be fair; this is my problem, not yours, or my mother’s, for that matter.’
I huddle in close to him. If he won’t take money, then all that I have to give him is myself as comfort and I know I can do that without reservation.
*
When we head back to mingle, everyone is tiring and the seats on the terrace quickly fill up. I bid them all goodnight, as Arran kicks off a conversation about place settings for a story. He’s too wired to sleep and as the perfect host he wants to give his guests every opportunity to exchange views and share their experiences.
He catches my eye as I turn, and I close my eyes briefly, sending him a silent hug goodnight before I hurry up to my room.
Undressing in the dark, the cool silky slip feels decadent against my skin. Before I can jump into bed there’s one thing I must do, and I sit down in front of the laptop to scan my emails. There’s only one of interest and that’s the one Carrie sent with the attachment from Heidi Hoffman.
Even before I click to open the document I have an uneasy feeling. It begins well. Then I groan out loud.
Commenting on the aftermath of her very public split from Paul Turner, Brie said she felt the need to reinvent herself. Sporting a vampish new hairstyle and fresh from the spa, she was glowing, but confirmed there is no new romantic interest in her life right now.
We touched on the subject of social media and the very r
eal dangers of fat-shaming, in light of her recent experiences. Brie was very concerned about the resulting mental anguish and psychological damage that could result from bullying of this nature.
However, she was emphatic that her dramatic weight loss is part of a general move towards a healthier lifestyle. It is not as a result of having sunk into a depressive state of mind following those very personal attacks, or the break-up of her relationship.
Having recently had the pleasure of interviewing self-confessed bad boy of rock, Paul, it seems his reaction was a little different.
‘Life’s too short to get serious too soon. Case of the cover not reflecting the contents,’ he told me, rather drolly, making a parallel reference to Brie’s hot and sexy series. However, Brie confirms her body clock is not ticking and explained away her continuing low profile existence as solely down to pressures of work. For more news on that front, look out for a Brianna Middleton exclusive coming very soon to Cosy Living!
And now for the competition. Haven’t read Brie’s latest book? We have ten signed copies of Loving a Stranger to give away. Plus, one lucky winner will receive a voucher for a spa weekend for two. To enter, share the story of your love blues and what you did to pick yourself back up after hitting rock bottom!
What the hell? I grab my phone and my fingers click on Carrie’s number the instant I read the last word.
‘Hi, Brie. It’s late for you to ring. I’m relaxing with a glass of wine. It’s been a tough day. What’s up?’ I can hear the exhaustion in her voice.
‘Well, I’m about to add to it. I’ve just read Heidi’s article. She’s twisted the entire thing about Paul. She has to change it, it can’t go out like that!’
I’m aware that my voice sounds panic-stricken.
‘Calm down. I read it through and thought it sounded okay. Your fans will love the snippet of gossip and she’s clever. I’m sure they’ll have both your and Paul’s names on the front cover somewhere and online. Two big names, twice the hits.’
‘But it makes me sound pathetic. Like I’ve spent the last year pining over him! He wasn’t worthy of one date, let alone several weeks of my life!’
‘You’re taking this too personally. Readers will be combing your new book and wondering if the bad boy in the story is Paul, and you are simply using it as a vehicle to dish the dirt. Fans really want to know what went on and not simply what the papers were reporting. Boyfriend bashing sells, Brie. So does the name Paul Turner, because he’s made a fortune out of his bad boy image. But we all know that’s mostly hype to gain him attention; he simply has a good business head and knows how to play the game. You sort of knew that when you started going out with him. This surely can’t come as a shock? And it isn’t going to harm your reputation because it will sell books.’
I hold my hand to my head to stop the banging going on inside it.
‘I don’t subscribe to the there is no such thing as bad press theory, Carrie, because I don’t want to set the trolls off again. I’m still getting hate reviews. And the competition adds insult to injury. Ethan Turner is the very opposite of Paul, because I write about heroes; not self-centred, egomaniacs out to make their fortune before they retire to a faraway place in the sun.’
There’s a pause.
‘Look, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were going to be so upset about this, but I assumed you were okay with it. It’s too late to get it amended now.’
I feel guilty as that is my fault for getting so caught up with everything else and forgetting to check it.
‘Well, she’s not getting the exclusive, then.’
I can hear Carrie spluttering.
‘But, Brie… are you mad? The article is precisely why she has to have the exclusive on your next book.’
I’m treading a thin line here between what’s right for my career and what’s right for my personal life. Carrie obviously draws her line in a different place.
‘She made it sound like I went to pieces because he ditched me over the fat-shaming frenzy, which isn’t strictly true. In fact, I was the one who said I’d had enough because it was clear it wasn’t going anywhere.’
Carrie clears her throat. ‘You haven’t been yourself for a while, Brie, and people have noticed that. Then you reappear looking very different. Things are almost back to normal, so why worry about it now? There’s nothing you can do because you know it doesn’t work that way. People will continue to think what they want, regardless.’
I don’t believe she thinks my little episode was simply all about finishing with Paul!
‘Well, I’m just going to have to show everyone that isn’t the case in some other way then.’
‘Fighting talk, I like it! Just make it newsworthy and it’s a win-win situation. Sleep well, Brie. Everything passes with time, so don’t let it get to you, but enjoy the spike in sales.’
I throw the phone down on the bed in disgust. Not so much with Carrie, because it isn’t her fault, but Heidi knew what she was doing in twisting my words. Maybe she twisted what Paul said too.
In desperation, I grab my phone and text Arran.
How’s it going?
He responds almost instantly.
They’re beginning to wane, at last. You?
That raises a smile. He must be feeling shattered.
Rather humiliated. Just read that article. Pride comes before a fall and I’ve just face-planted.
Well, maybe more like having my legs swept out from under me.
Give me five minutes.
I swear it’s less than two minutes before there’s a gentle tap at the door and he’s standing in front of me.
‘I’ve left them tidying up. Do you mind?’
I watch avidly as he begins taking off his clothes. He watches me, watching him.
‘Can I hop into your shower? I don’t really relish the thought of walking down a flight of stairs naked.’
‘Help yourself, it’s your villa.’ The moment I hear myself say the words I wish I could claw them back.
‘Well, for the moment, anyway,’ he mutters with an ironic smile, ‘but thanks.’
He returns a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his waist and looking meltingly hot. How is it that men walk out of a shower looking sexy and cute, whereas women tend to look like drowned rats with straggly hair?
‘So, I assume you want me to read it and give you my opinion?’ He stifles a yawn. ‘Sorry, exhausting day and that balmy heat out there tonight doesn’t help.’
I gasp at his words, and he begins laughing. ‘It isn’t often I have sex twice in one day with a woman who writes steamy romances. It’s a lot of pressure.’
This time my eyebrows shoot up at his shameless references to our afternoon of love.
‘It’s not at all romantic for one’s lover to talk about it. In fact, it’s bad form!’
‘My apologies. Today has been a rollercoaster ride of the worst kind, so I know you’ll forgive me. And the last word anyone would use to describe me would be romantic. I don’t believe in that sentimental stuff because I choose to live in the real world. Right, let me read this upsetting article.’
He digests every single word with a deep frown on his forehead. When he looks up, he stares at me, his expression hardly changing.
‘Well, I think it makes him sound like a total idiot. Albeit a very talented one I used to respect for his undeniably brilliant guitar playing skills. But you were fat-shamed? What is that? You aren’t fat.’
I glare at him. ‘I will admit I was carrying a few extra pounds at the time. Most of our dates were events he had to attend and at first he enjoyed the fact that people recognised me. Even if that was by name, rather than by sight. Then some of his fans began targeting me with some very cruel comments on social media. At the same time a couple of awful photos of me went viral and the press loved it. They commended him on the fact that he wasn’t concerned I wasn’t exactly slim. “Generously proportioned thighs” and a “cuddly build” were two of the nicer terms used. Then h
is agent suggested I didn’t accompany him on one of his red carpet events and I more or less told him exactly what I thought about that. I was done with Paul’s obsession with image and the way he made no attempt to defend me. So I went home having drawn a line under our non-starter relationship.
‘The next morning he broke the news to the press, making it look like he’d dumped me.’
‘Hmm… nice guy. Does it matter in the grand scheme of life? It will sell books and a lot of what is out there isn’t true anyway. On a personal note, I’m relieved to hear he didn’t sucker you into sleeping with him. That’s probably why he wants to lash out; you could be his first failed conquest.’
I feel myself sag. That means Paul has an axe to grind.
‘He can be charming and dazzling when he wants to be and he’s actually a very intelligent guy. But it matters to me, Arran. Why do I have to be the butt of this? He’s implying I’m boring. “The cover doesn’t reflect the contents”. That’s a low blow and totally out of order after everything his fans put me through! He wasn’t man enough to condemn their unacceptable behaviour.’
Arran is now sitting on the edge of the bed. His elbow is on his knee and his chin is lightly resting on his bad hand, which now bears a rather soggy looking bandage.
‘Sorry, I’m sounding off and I know it. Here, let me ease that off and see how the wound is doing.’
I gently take his hand in mine and we exchange a meaningful smile.
‘I could probably confirm that the cover does match the contents but sadly I haven’t read any of your books. And I am ashamed to admit that.’
The look on his face makes mine feel even hotter than it already is, so I ignore his comment and focus on his hand.
‘Well, the bleeding has stopped and it’s scabbing up nicely. Maybe get some air to it and see how it looks in the morning.’
‘Yes, nurse. How about diverting attention away from this article with something even bigger?’
I shake my head. ‘I’m only halfway through the next book and it isn’t due out until February. That’s the breaking news Heidi refers to as my publishers are very keen to get some advance publicity, but it won’t be until December at the earliest.’
