by Heidi Rice
‘Whoah. That was something else.’ His ragged breathing matched her own as he rested his forehead on hers. ‘We’d best stop, before things get out of hand.’
Juno stiffened and shrank back as reality returned, dousing the last of the passion like a bucket of ice water.
What had she done? After six years of contented celibacy, she’d snogged a complete stranger in the middle of Heathrow Airport. A stranger she didn’t even like.
‘Please, could you move your hand?’ she said, brutally embarrassed as his thumb continued to rub lazily across her ribs, perilously close to the underside of her breast.
He drew his hand down, rested it on her hip. ‘How about we find somewhere we can continue this in private?’
She fumbled with her T-shirt, frantically tucking it back into her jeans as blood surged into her cheeks. Did he think she was a prostitute or something?
He put his finger under her chin, tilted her head back. ‘Is there something the matter?’
Of course something’s the matter. A nymphomaniac just hijacked my body.
She jerked free. ‘N-nothing’s the matter,’ she stammered.
‘You sure?’ His brows lowered. ‘You’re acting a bit strange.’
You don’t know the half of it.
‘I have to go.’ She had to get away from those prying eyes and that harsh, too handsome face, before the nymphomaniac returned.
His hand clamped on her wrist. ‘Now wait a minute,’ he said with irritating calm.
She tugged, but the warm manacle only tightened. ‘I really have to go.’
‘You don’t kiss a guy like that and then just walk off,’ he said, not sounding the least bit perturbed by what they’d just done. ‘And what about the extremely important thing you had to discuss with me?’
She opened her mouth to demand he let her go instantly. And then snapped it shut again.
Oh, no. The wedding invitation.
How could she have forgotten about Daisy’s wedding? And her mission?
‘Please, l-let go of my wrist,’ she stuttered, the words trapped behind the boulder of guilt stuck in her throat. ‘I have something for you.’
He released her, a sensual smile on his lips. ‘I think we already established that.’
Her blush intensified—and her nipples tightened. Damn him. How did he have that effect on her? ‘I’m not talking about sexual favours.’ She grabbed his wrist and slapped the envelope into his upturned palm. ‘It’s an invitation to your brother’s wedding.’
He tensed and the smile vanished as he stared at the invite.
‘It’s from my best friend, Daisy, your brother’s fiancée,’ she added.
His gaze lifted and she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes. But it disappeared so quickly she was sure she’d imagined it.
‘I don’t have a brother,’ he replied, crushing the envelope in his fist.
That was one scenario she hadn’t even considered. ‘Of course you do,’ she blurted out, wondering what on earth had happened between this man and Connor.
He looked completely unmoved. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t beg, but after what she’d just done a little begging didn’t seem like such a big deal any more. She took a deep breath. ‘Please. You have to go. It’s really important.’
‘Not to me it isn’t,’ he said with enough arrogance to make her bristle. He lifted the invitation. ‘So you can give this back to your best friend and tell her I’m not interested.’
‘How can you be so callous?’ she asked, before she could think better of it.
‘How come this is any of your business?’ he shot back, a bitter smile twisting his lips.
She stiffened, stunned by the cold, emotionless tone. ‘I told you, Daisy’s my friend,’ she said, hating the defensiveness in her voice.
‘I see,’ he said. ‘So was the kiss her idea or yours?’
Juno’s mouth fell open. She snapped it shut. ‘You know perfectly well that kiss was your idea.’ What exactly was he accusing her of? ‘You know what, Mr Brody.’ Forget begging, she’d had about enough of Mac Brody and his titanic ego. ‘Just because you’re rich and famous it doesn’t give you the right to treat your family like dirt. Daisy and Connor are wonderful people—and they deserve a lot better than you.’
‘Is that right?’ To her fury, he chuckled. ‘So if you think I’m such a low form of life, why did you kiss me, then?’
If he didn’t stop talking about that damn kiss she was going to slap him. ‘I didn’t know you then. I do now.’
His lips quirked, apparently immune to the insult. ‘But you’ve yet to encounter the best bit.’
The vivid memory of his arousal had the blush burning in her cheeks. She thrust her chin out, refusing to acknowledge the strange sensation low in her belly. ‘I think you overestimate your charms, Mr Brody.’
He laughed. ‘But you’ll never know for sure now, will you?’
She didn’t dignify that with a reply, but she couldn’t help hearing his taunting laughter as she marched off.
Of all the arrogant, oversexed, thoughtless jerks.
Juno fumed all the way to the exit doors, her heart pumping in time with her angry strides. She’d been absolutely right about Mac Brody. He didn’t deserve a family as wonderful as Daisy and Connor and their beautiful baby boy, Ronan. Thank goodness he wasn’t coming to the wedding. What a relief to know she’d never have to set eyes on that infernal man—or his so-called charms—ever again.
Mac’s smile died as he watched the girl stalk off. His gaze dropped to the well-worn denim outlining the curve of her bottom. The hum of desire tugged at his groin.
He shouldn’t have teased her, but it had been irresistible once he’d seen the way her temper lit up the vivid blue-green of her eyes. Just as the urge to kiss her had been irresistible. He still wasn’t quite sure what had happened there.
He’d inhaled the clean, fresh scent of her shampoo, caught the panicked flare of arousal in those enchanting eyes—and his brains had gone south so fast instinct had taken over. The driving need to taste her had consumed him. And once he had, her sweet, innocent response had been so intoxicating he’d lost leave of his senses.
Still, spontaneity was one thing, recklessness another.
He searched the terminal, the crowds now thinning. No sign of Danners or any other celebrity snappers—which was a real stroke of luck. If Danners had spotted him while he’d been indulging himself with the girl, the man could have taken twenty pictures and Mac doubted he would have noticed. He picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder, then realised he still had the wedding invitation she’d handed him clutched in his fist.
He set off towards the nearest bin. As he’d told the girl, he had no brother any more, no need of family and no intention of going to any wedding. The very last thing he needed was to stir up that whole hornet’s nest of emotions. Or the agonising memories that he’d boxed up and forgotten about a lifetime ago.
But as he reached the wastebasket and went to toss the invitation in his hand stilled. He lifted the creased envelope and inhaled the hint of scent she’d left on the paper. Soap and wild flowers. The thrill of sexual attraction shot through him. A thrill he hadn’t felt in far too long.
He wanted her. He might as well admit it, as after that kiss there was no mistaking it. She was nowhere near as sophisticated—or as amenable—as the women he usually dated, but somehow she’d captivated him. And he didn’t captivate easily.
He stared at the envelope. Maybe her difference was her appeal. With those tomboy clothes, that responsive little body and her prickly temper she represented the one thing he hadn’t had in a long while. A challenge.
And he hadn’t even found out her name.
Cursing softly, he shoved the wedding invitation into his back pocket.
Chapter Two
SITTING on the tube train as the leafy, suburban enclaves of west London trundled past, Juno replayed in her mind her disastrous encounter with Mac Brody—i
n minute detail, over and over again.
As she left Ladbroke Grove station twenty minutes later and walked to the bottom end of Portobello Road, she finally admitted the truth. Mac Brody might be an arrogant jerk who made Casanova look like a monk, but he wasn’t the only guilty party. She had to take a large part of the blame for this morning’s debacle too.
At ten past two on a Thursday afternoon with the market closed, Portobello looked like a ghost town, the empty metal frames of the stalls doing nothing to improve Juno’s mood. A couple of confused tourists who obviously hadn’t read their guidebook properly loitered next to the darkened window of The Rock ‘n’ Roller Memorabilia Emporium, but otherwise the street was deserted.
She hurried past the colourful faÇade of Daisy’s shop, The Funky Fashionista, and glanced at the window display she’d spent four hours arranging the day before. Her throat thickened with pride as she admired her handiwork—and guilt swamped her.
How could she have been so reckless and irresponsible? How could she have made such a mess of things?
She rubbed her cheek where Brody’s stubble had stung. She knew exactly how. As soon as he’d looked at her, as soon as his lips had touched hers, all her common sense and her good intentions had been burned to cinders in a blast of pure unadulterated pleasure.
Kissing him had been like falling into a sunbeam, making every single cell in her body explode with rapture. But how could her body have picked him, of all people, to respond to with such fervour? A man who had the emotional integrity of a gnat? It was against everything she knew and understood about herself. Against everything she had made herself become in the last six years.
She thrust her hand back into her pocket, turning into Colville Gardens.
Forget about the stupid kiss.
It wasn’t important. She couldn’t let it be. Mac Brody’s dangerous sex appeal and devilish good looks would play havoc with any woman’s hormones at a distance of two hundred yards—and she’d got a lot closer to him than that. That was all. Her shocking reaction was simply an accident of chemistry—and geography. An accident of thermonuclear proportions maybe. But still just an accident. It didn’t have to mean any more than that. Especially as she never intended to step into Mac Brody’s orbit again.
She gave a shaky sigh as Mrs Valdermeyer’s bedsit co-op came into view, looking like the poor relation to Daisy and Connor’s graceful five-storey Georgian next door.
Right now all she wanted to do was hide out in her room at Mrs Valdermeyer’s and spend the rest of her day off catching up on the shop’s bookkeeping and persuading herself this morning had never happened.
She took the first step up to Mrs Valdermeyer’s door. Then stopped.
‘Blast.’ The hissed expletive cut the summer afternoon like a knife.
She couldn’t do it. Six years ago she’d promised herself she’d always face up to what she’d done. This morning, she’d screwed up and let two people she loved down in the process.
Whatever the extenuating circumstances, she owed it to Daisy to come clean and then apologise.
‘I’m so glad you dropped by.’ Daisy beamed a smile over her shoulder as she led the way down the long hallway of her home. ‘The material for my bridal gown arrived from Delhi. It’s absolutely gorgeous—you have to come and drool over it with me.’
‘Great,’ Juno replied, trying to muster some enthusiasm as they entered the sunny open-plan kitchen at the back of the house. ‘Where’s Ronan?’ she asked, busy postponing the inevitable.
‘Having his nap. The little terror.’ Daisy filled the kettle at the sink. ‘Can you believe it? He woke us up at four this morning.’
Daisy’s eyes lit up as she talked about her son and Juno felt an odd pang in her chest.
‘Enough about He Who Does Not Sleep,’ Daisy continued. ‘We need to have another talk about your maid of honour gown.’ She dropped teabags into a couple of earthenware mugs. ‘There is no way I’m letting you walk down the aisle behind me in jeans and a—’
She stopped talking abruptly as her gaze landed on Juno. Her eyes widened. ‘What on earth happened to your face? Is that a heat rash?’
Juno clapped her palms to her cheeks. ‘Um…maybe.’ How much worse was today going to get?
‘Let me go get some salve,’ Daisy said.
Juno held a hand up. ‘Don’t bother. Honestly, it doesn’t hurt.’ She took a steadying breath, determined to force out her confession before Daisy spotted anything else. ‘I’ve done something reckless and irresponsible and I—’
‘Reckless and irresponsible?’ Daisy interrupted her. ‘You? I don’t believe it,’ she scoffed. ‘You’re the most cautious person I know.’
That would be yesterday.
‘I met Mac Brody at Heathrow Airport this morning and tried to give him the wedding invite.’ She rushed the words, before she lost her nerve completely.
Daisy blinked. ‘You met Mac? Connor’s brother? But…’ She trailed off, clearly at a loss for words.
‘I had this stupid idea I could persuade him to come.’ Juno twisted her hands in her lap. ‘I knew how much you wanted him there. You and Connor and after—’
‘Wait, wait,’ Daisy interrupted again. ‘Go back a bit.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Are you seriously telling me that you went all the way to Heathrow this morning to meet the handsome, charming and stupendously sexy Mac Brody, movie star? Of your own free will?’
Was that a smile wrinkling Daisy’s lips?
‘So?’
Daisy giggled. ‘So, that’s fantastic.’ Her friend zipped round the breakfast bar and perched on the stool next to Juno’s. ‘Now, tell me all about it. No detail is too insignificant.’
‘What’s got into you?’ Juno sensed a trap, but couldn’t figure out what it could be.
‘Just tell me. Is he as hormone-meltingly gorgeous in the flesh as he is in his films?’
A blush blazed across Juno’s chest. ‘You can’t say that. You’re practically a married woman.’ Was no woman immune to Mac Brody’s charms?
‘I may be practically married,’ Daisy said, not sounding remotely chastened, ‘but I’m not blind, am I? Anyway, it’s required that I appreciate him—on a purely aesthetic level—after all, Connor and he are the spitting image of each other.’
The instant Daisy had said it, Juno’s mind conjured up a picture of Brody in the moment before he’d kissed her. A picture now branded on her brain for all eternity in glorious Technicolor.
The brutal blush scorched the back of her neck.
The two brothers did look remarkably alike. Mac Brody’s features were a little less blunt than Connor’s and the colour of his eyes was a purer, fiercer blue, but both men shared the same dark, brooding Celtic beauty. The high, hollow cheekbones, the sharply defined brows, the long, leanly muscled physique and that air of casual danger. So why, apart from Brody’s gait, hadn’t she spotted the resemblance until Daisy had mentioned it?
Maybe because Connor’s looks had never made her heart race or her pulse hammer as his brother’s had.
She forced the picture to the back of her mind. She couldn’t afford to start hyperventilating again.
‘It doesn’t matter what he looked like,’ she said as soberly as she could manage. ‘The point is he refused to come to the wedding, he even said he didn’t have a brother and I lost my temper with him and made things worse. I wanted to apologise to you and to Connor. Because there’s no chance at all he’ll come now.’
‘Apologise for what? We already know he’s not coming,’ Daisy said so matter-of-factly, Juno wondered if her sensitive friend had been taken over by Martians. ‘We got that letter from his agent, remember?’ Daisy finished.
‘I know, I was there. You were really upset.’
Daisy waved the comment away. ‘I was a bit at first. But after I’d thought about it I could see I was being overly optimistic thinking he’d come around so quickly. Connor was just as stubborn and misguided when I first me
t him. After the terrible things that happened to them both as kids, it’s no surprise Mac has hang-ups to spare.’ Daisy gave a heavy sigh. ‘It doesn’t surprise me he said he didn’t have a brother.’
What terrible things?
The question burned on Juno’s tongue but she stopped herself from asking it, and ruthlessly controlled the little spurt of sympathy that went with it. Maybe there was more to the situation between him and Connor than she’d assumed. But Mac Brody had been right about one thing: none of this was any of her business—and she’d got into quite enough trouble already trying to make it her business.
‘I’m sure Mac needs a family as much as Connor did,’ Daisy continued. ‘But it’ll probably take him a while to figure it out.’
Juno wondered if the man who had kissed her with such confidence had ever needed anybody. But decided not to mention it.
‘But enough about me.’ Daisy patted Juno’s knee, the spark of excitement returning to her voice. ‘What did you think of him?’
‘Who cares what I thought of him?’ Maybe Mac Brody wasn’t as big a jerk as she had thought. Maybe he had his reasons for treating Connor the way he had. But what difference did it make what she thought of the man if she was never going to see him again?
‘Juno.’ Daisy slanted her a long-suffering look. ‘Blush magazine voted Cormac Brody one of the sexiest men in the known universe last month. We’ve already established he’s completely gorgeous. And, according to the gossip columns, he’s currently between girlfriends.’ She gave another heartfelt sigh. ‘Surely this is one man even you could not be immune to?’
The light dawned, and Juno saw the trap Daisy had set opening like a yawning chasm beneath her feet. Ever since Daisy had fallen in love with Connor she’d been subtly trying to get Juno to consider dating again. Juno had pretended not to notice. But as Daisy waited for an answer with an expectant look in her eye the blush blazed into Juno’s cheeks.
‘Something happened.’ Daisy pointed at her triumphantly. ‘You’re blushing and you never blush.’
‘Nothing happened,’ Juno grumbled, her scalp feeling as if it had been set alight.
