by Helen Brooks
He made no attempt to touch any other part of her body yet every nerve came alive, twanging with sensation as the kiss deepened.
When he drew away he was breathing hard, his voice gruff as he said, ‘Any more and I shall forget where I am, and we don’t want to frighten any little children, do we.’
She smiled as she was meant to, but she couldn’t help wondering if she had imagined the note of what had sounded like surprise in his voice.
He seemed to confirm, it, however, when he said, ‘I’m not sure what you do to me, Cory James, but it could get to be like a drug.’
‘Is that good or bad?’ She heard herself flirt with a little stab of amazement, but it all seemed to be part of the lazy afternoon.
‘Depends.’ One finger traced the outline of her lips.
‘On what?’
‘How often I can get a fix.’
Enough. She sat up, brushing her hair out of her eyes as she said, ‘I told you, I don’t—’
‘Date. Yes, I remember. So when do you see that changing?’
‘What?’
‘You’ll want to settle down one day, surely, so how do you intend to find Mr Right if the opposite sex is out of bounds?’ he asked smoothly.
She found his presumption galling to say the least. ‘Why should I want to settle down? Because I’m a woman?’
He stared at her, the riveting blue of his eyes betraying nothing of what he was thinking. ‘I’ve found most of your sex are inclined towards ultimate monogamy, babies, that kind of thing.’
‘Well, I’m not,’ she said firmly.
‘You don’t want babies one day?’
‘No. Yes. I mean—’ What did she mean? ‘Babies are not part of my plans for the future.’
‘That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?’ he asked mildly.
‘Not if it prevents them just being mere incidentals in someone else’s life.’ She’d spoken too quickly and from the heart without considering her words, and now she could have kicked herself as she watched the piercing gaze narrow.
‘Incidental? Is that how you saw yourself in your parents’ lives?’
Cory made a conscious effort at self-control. She couldn’t believe how they had arrived at talking like this. She had known some of her friends for years and years and they had never remotely touched on such intimate subjects. She had known Nick for a couple of days and here he was giving her the third degree. ‘Let’s change the subject,’ she said stiffly.
‘Let’s not.’ He rose to his feet, pulling her up with him and then keeping her within the circle of his arms when she made to pull free. ‘Cory, most kids grow up knowing they are the most precious things under the sun to their parents,’ he said softly. ‘I’m sorry, heart sorry, if it wasn’t that way for you, but don’t let anyone else’s mistakes push you down a path where you don’t really want to go.’
‘How do you know where I want to go?’ His words had bit into the secret recesses of her heart like acid. ‘You don’t know me. You didn’t know my parents either so don’t make any snap judgements on them or me.’
He was quite still for a moment, then he said, ‘It’d be a crying shame if someone as beautiful and sensitive as you shut herself away from life. Don’t you see that?’
‘Life meaning sex?’ she asked with a baldness that shocked her. ‘And sex meaning your bed, I suppose?’
‘My bed is certainly big enough to accommodate the two of us,’ he said mildly, ‘but I wasn’t necessarily referring to it. I can actually think about something other than sex occasionally.’
‘Then you’re one of the few men who can.’ Again she could have kicked herself, What was she doing? She had to calm down. He was far too perceptive for his own good—or maybe that should be her good. She tried to prise his arms away but they merely tightened.
‘What was his name?’
‘Whose name?’ she hedged, swallowing hard.
‘The guy who let you down. Because you have been let down by someone, haven’t you, Cory? Was it recently?’
Her frozen state resembled a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.
‘You can tell me to go to hell,’ he said grimly, ‘but I’d rather hear if it’s really over, at least from your side.’
‘It’s over,’ she said dully.
‘In your heart or in your head?’
He really didn’t seem to know when to stop. The thought brought enough adrenalin for her to break free and take a step backwards, her voice a snap when she said, ‘Both, OK? Both. Is that what you wanted to hear?’
‘Yes, it is.’ And he didn’t sound in the least apologetic about his temerity.
‘His name was William Patterson and he was rich, goodlooking and very sure of himself. He asked me to marry him and then I found him making love to someone else. Is that enough information? Oh, and it was over three years ago now.’ She had put as much sarcasm into her voice as she could to stop it trembling.
He didn’t say anything for what seemed like a very long time to Cory’s overwrought nerves. Then he stuffed his hands into his pockets, his eyes still on her. ‘Her name was Joanna and we were married,’ he said quietly. ‘She was killed instantly when a drunk driver on the wrong side of the road knocked her car straight in front of a lorry on Christmas Eve. She’d popped out to get some bulbs for the lights on the tree so it would be ready when I walked in from work. The drunk driver had bruises, nothing else.’
‘Oh, Nick.’ She was scarcely breathing.
‘It was a long time ago, Cory, thirteen years to be exact. We had only been left university for six months. We were still two kids, playing at being married but enjoying every moment. I was twenty-two but I grew up very quickly that night. After that…’ He shrugged. ‘I threw myself into work and the next year started my own business. It was good to have something to drive at.’
‘And you’ve never…I mean, there hasn’t been anyone else you’ve wanted to—’ She stopped abruptly, aware she was putting it badly.
‘I’ve had relationships since Joanna,’ he said, ‘one or two of them long-term. If you’re asking me if I was ever tempted to get married again, then the answer’s no.’
Cory nodded. She didn’t know what to say. She’d had him down as a love ’em and leave ’em type—which he might be now—but she had to admit she hadn’t thought about what might have made him that way. ‘It must have been very hard for you,’ she said at last.
‘For a while.’ He shrugged. ‘But it seems like another lifetime now. The boy Joanna knew was very different to the man I’ve become, I guess. Who knows whether we would still even be together if she had lived? We were very young, that’s for sure. And typical students. We married in a registry office one wet Saturday afternoon; she wore a long skirt and a jumper with bells round the bottom and I wore jeans and a scruffy T-shirt.’
‘Bohemians.’
‘Something like that.’ He smiled at her, reaching out and taking her hand, and she let him pull her into his side as they began walking again.
Even as she was making all the right noises, Cory found her mind was working on a different plane altogether as they strolled back to the pub. Nick Morgan was inveigling himself into her life somehow, and it frightened her. She was sure he hadn’t made up the story about his young wife, but had he told her about Joanna hoping it would soften her attitude to him? William had been full of little tricks like that. In fact, once their relationship was over she’d realised William had played her like a master virtuoso. She frowned to herself.
‘You’re thinking again.’ The deep voice was amused.
‘What?’ She wiped her face clear of expression as she glanced up at him.
‘I’d bet a pound to a penny I was featuring in your thoughts and not favourably,’ he drawled. ‘Right?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She could feel her cheeks burning.
‘Something along the lines of wondering if I’d spun you a yarn, yes?’
‘No.’ Her voice carried a note of i
ndignation that couldn’t be misconstrued. ‘Of course I believe what you told me. I know you wouldn’t make something like that up.’ Even as she spoke Cory wondered how she knew. But know she did. She decided to look at that one later.
‘Then you’re wondering why I told you,’ he persisted doggedly.
Wretched man. She turned her head, pretending an interest in two screaming toddlers whose harassed mother was trying to persuade them back into a double buggy. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Little liar.’ It was soft, indulgent, and took the sting out of the words.
Cory decided she could do some plain speaking herself. She stopped, looking up into the clear blue eyes as she said, ‘OK then, why did you tell me?’
‘I don’t know.’ He didn’t blink, his face oddly vulnerable. Cory didn’t like what it did to her treacherous heart. Then, with a wry smile, he said, ‘It’s not something I usually drop into the conversation on the second date. In fact it’s not something I usually talk about at all.’
How could someone who was so big and male and dangerous look so boyish for a moment? She told herself she’d had enough of aching heartstrings for one afternoon and answered his smile with one of her own, saying lightly, ‘Looks like we’re both in the dark then. And we’re not dating, remember? This is my penance.’
He chuckled and her heart thudded with pleasure that she could make him laugh, even as a hundred alarm bells went off in her head. He was the most exciting man she had ever met, she’d known that yesterday, but today she’d realised there was much more to Nick than met the eye. He probably had a lighthearted little romance in mind, a few romps in bed until the next woman came along, a woman more suited to his complex and captivating personality. But she wasn’t like that.
They walked on, the warm evening air redolent of woodsmoke from a distant bonfire somewhere, but Cory’s mind was racing.
How did you tell an experienced man of the world like Nick Morgan, a man who by his own admission had had more than one woman in his bed in his time—lots more—that you had never actually…
She groaned inwardly. He would laugh at her and somehow—somehow she couldn’t bear the thought of that.
Of course she had had her moments in the days before she had tangled with William. Her friends at university had been popping in and out of bed with the current boyfriend as though it was as simple and easy as having a cup of tea. They had said she was too intense, that she was making too big a deal out of what was the most natural thing in the world, but something had always stopped her from making total bodily commitment with the lads she had gone out with.
She supposed she’d been waiting for the Mr Right Nick had spoken of earlier. Her lip curled at her naïvety. Even though she’d always doubted anyone would feel that way about her in her heart.
They reached the pub within a few minutes and after saying their goodbyes to Lucinda and John walked to the car. As they drove back along the route they had travelled earlier, Cory said tentatively, ‘I brought some work home I really ought to look at before tomorrow. If you wouldn’t mind dropping me back at the flat now, please.’
‘I do mind.’ He spared her one piercing glance before going on, ‘We’re doing dinner, Cory. Relax and you might even enjoy it.’
She wriggled in her seat. ‘Where are we going?’
‘A nice little place I know.’
‘You know so many nice little places,’ she said with a touch of acidity.
He chose to ignore it. ‘That’s true, but this one is special. Trust me.’
That would be a grave mistake.
Her face must have spoken for itself because she became aware of him laughing softly, and when she looked at him his eyes were brilliant with sparks of humour. ‘You’re priceless,’ he murmured. ‘Do you know that? And so good for keeping my ego on the ground.’
‘I don’t think I’ll feel sorry for your ego,’ she said, thinking of all the other women he had said he’d known and feeling ridiculously jealous. Which just showed how crazy she was and how this had to be the end of things.
The light banter continued as they drove on, but when they drew up in one of the streets close to Richmond Park Cory stared about her. ‘This isn’t a restaurant,’ she said accusingly.
‘Who said anything about a restaurant?’ Twilight was beginning to fall as he slid out of the car, walking round the sleek low bonnet and opening her door for her.
Cory remained sitting. She raised her eyebrows at him and he stared innocently back. ‘So?’ she said meaningfully. ‘Where are we?’
‘Outside my London flat.’
She’d already arrived at that conclusion herself but had been determined to make him spell it out. She opened her mouth to tell him to take her home but he forestalled her.
‘Before you say anything, it’s only dinner that’s on the cards, by the way. I know you’d like to get your hands on my body but you’ll just have to restrain yourself.’
Cory glared at him. ‘This isn’t funny, Nick.’
He crouched down so that his head was on a level with hers. She tried hard to ignore the way his trousers strained over muscled thighs but it was difficult. ‘Only dinner, Cory,’ he repeated softly. ‘I thought it would be nice to eat in, that’s all. That way I can enjoy a bottle of wine with you and call a taxi to take you home.’
‘You can cook?’ she asked doubtfully.
‘My dumplings have been known to make women swoon.’
She giggled, she couldn’t help it. ‘Really, can you cook?’ she persisted.
He smiled. ‘Tonight we’re starting with spiced chicken salad with papaya and avocado. I cheated and got that ready before I left this morning. The main course for madam is pork and ginger stir-fry with noodles and prawn crackers. And for dessert…’
‘What’s for dessert?’ Her mouth was watering.
‘That’ll be a surprise.’ He stood up again, holding out his hand which she took a little reluctantly, still unsure of what she was doing.
Once she was standing on the pavement she eyed him warily. He was certainly full of surprises, and she didn’t mean the dessert! Who on earth would have guessed he could cook? He was too…male. And then she couldn’t believe she’d been so sexist.
‘Come on.’ He led her over to the large terraced house in front of them. As soon as he opened the front door Cory knew his flat was going to be sumptuous by the splendour of the marbled lobby complete with lift.
Nick’s flat was at the top of the house and, when he stood aside for her to enter after opening the front door, Cory looked about her interestedly. She saw immediately that she had been right. It was sumptuous, but not over-poweringly so. It was also severely male, no frills or fancies littering the contemporary feel of the flat.
The lounge area which opened from the front door had pale cream walls and an oatmeal carpet, the huge sensation of space enhanced by the absence of doors between it and the dining room. The designer had left the chimney breast only as a natural division, and Cory could see by the charred logs in the grate that this was a real fire.
Three black leather two-seater sofas and several black lacquer oval occasional tables dotted the lounge, and in the dining room the monochrome effect continued with a black dining table and chairs.
Several striking pieces of sculpture and bark wall hangings and a row of steel-framed mirrors added to the air of uncompromising stark beauty. There were no plants, no ornaments, no vases of flowers or photographs on view, nothing to give any idea of the personality of the man who owned the place.
Cory turned to look at Nick, who was watching her intently. ‘Is your house in Barnstaple like this?’
The hard face relaxed into a smile. ‘No,’ he admitted softly, ‘but that’s home. This is part of my work. It’s where I bring colleagues, clients, people I want to impress.’
Cory nodded. She knew his international electronics firm was huge and still growing. He was a very successful and intelligent man and she supposed t
his flat reflected this. She wouldn’t want to live in it though.
‘Come through to the kitchen,’ Nick said, the twist to his lips suggesting he had read her mind again. ‘It’s where I spend most of my time when I’m here, that and the bedroom. I tend to get in late and leave early unless I’m entertaining.’
The kitchen was a smart combination of brushed stainless steel and solid wedge wood, and the impression of space and light was continued here by the ceiling having been removed, revealing the timbers of the original structure which were painted white. A large corner breakfast bar which was really a small table had two high stainless steel chairs with coffee-coloured upholstered seats tucked beneath it and, after pulling one out, Nick said, ‘Sit down while I see about dinner. I’ll open a bottle of wine. A nice Chardonnay, I think, to go with the salad and then the stirfry.’
She had half been expecting that he would give her a tour of all of the flat, including his bedroom, and now as she sat on the chair she had to confess to a slight feeling of disappointment. She would have liked to see where he slept, to be able to picture him there at night. Dangerous. The word reverberated in her head as loudly as if someone had screamed it in her ear. She didn’t need to picture him anywhere; he had no part in her life. This was one weekend out of the norm and it would remain like that. A pleasant but acutely disturbing episode that would soon fade from her memory if she put her mind to it.
Oh, yeah? challenged a little voice in her head. And pigs might fly.
The Chardonnay was as delicious in its own way as the Brunello at lunch. Cory didn’t know much about different wines but it was obvious Nick did. All part of the image, she told herself, before feeling a little ashamed of the cattiness which had prompted the thought.
‘Can I help?’ she asked as she sat watching him deftly cut the pork loin into thin strips before covering it and putting it with the other ingredients he’d pulled out of the fridge, already prepared for cooking—a man who thought of everything.
