by Heidi Rice
‘Nessa won’t mind,’ Cassie replied, glancing over her shoulder, her cheeks pink from the cold. ‘Why would she?’
‘Because she doesn’t know me,’ he said, stating the blatantly obvious. And more to the point, he didn’t know her.
He still wasn’t quite sure how he’d got strong-armed into coming to Cassie’s friend’s Christmas meal in the first place. One minute he’d been riding on the crest of a wave of endorphins, the heady rush of afterglow tempered by the confusing emotions Cassie had caused by giving him the Christmas gift. And the next he’d been driving through the deserted streets of East London en route to a dinner date with a load of strangers.
He’d had a perfectly good plan to go jogging in Hyde Park, sweat off the room-service meals he’d been devouring in the hotel and then catch up on reading through some of the proposals his PA had emailed him from the various buyers he still hadn’t got round to meeting.
He didn’t want to be here. So why was he?
‘Of course Nessa knows you,’ Cassie said matter-of-factly, giving the door a hefty shove when it buzzed. ‘She went to Hillsdown Road too.’
‘Terrific,’ he muttered sarcastically, tension tightening his shoulder blades as he held the door open for Cassie and her sack full of gifts.
‘Don’t look so worried.’ She grinned, patting his cheek. ‘You were a legend at Hillsroad.’
‘Which is exactly what I’m worried about,’ he said grimly as he trudged up the darkened stairwell behind her.
The door on the first-floor landing was painted a glaring shade of yellow with black and green edging. And the pulsing beat of a current funk rap anthem could be heard from inside.
Jace braced himself as the door swung open and a curvaceous black woman wearing a beaded tunic, similar to the one Cassie had had on that first night, came bounding out and flung her arms round Cassie. ‘Hey, girl? What’s up?’
Cassie dropped the bags and hugged her friend back. ‘Happy Chrimbo, Ness. I hope you’ve got enough turkey for one more?’ She stood back, and the woman’s lushly made-up eyes landed on Jace.
‘Oh, my days, Jace the Ace!’ she proclaimed.
Jace winced. He’d never liked that nickname much at school, he was liking it even less now.
‘Haven’t you grown up nice?’ she said and then sent him a cheeky grin that had memory blindsiding him.
He grinned back. ‘Damn, Vanessa Douglas,’ he said, his shoulders relaxing for the first time since he’d agreed to come. ‘The scourge of the lower third.’
She laughed, the sound rich and full, and he recalled how much he’d enjoyed it when they’d ended up in detention together—which with her smart mouth and his aptitude for trouble had been fairly frequently.
‘Guilty as charged,’ she said, giving him a high five. ‘Remember how we made Ms Clavell’s life a living hell?’
‘The poor woman nearly had a breakdown,’ Jace said, amazed to realise he’d now discovered two memories from school that hadn’t been at all bad.
‘That woman was way too uptight.’ Nessa batted the thought away as she shut the door behind them. ‘We just loosened her up a bit.’
She turned to Cassie as they followed her into the flat’s cramped hallway and took off their coats. ‘And of course I’ve got enough turkey. The thing’s a mutant,’ she added, hanging up their coats as the scents of roasting meat and Caribbean spices wafted down the hallway, along with the shouts of raucous conversation and the bass-heavy music. ‘Terrence had to cut the legs off to fit it in the oven,’ she said, leading them into a surprisingly large open-plan kitchen-diner, which was packed with people who were chatting and chopping and cooking and carousing in that disorderly but choreographed way that old friends did instinctively.
Clapping her hands, Nessa got everyone’s attention.
A tall, good-looking, mixed-race guy standing by the stove with an apron on that said ‘World’s sexiest chef’ turned down the speakers on the counter top.
‘Okay, folks, Cassie’s here and she’s brought her new candy man, Jace. So treat him nice.’
Cassie slapped Nessa’s arm, blushing profusely as she hissed over the chorus of cheers and wolf whistles from her friends, ‘Ness, I can’t believe you just said that.’
Jace choked out a laugh, the last of the tension easing out of his shoulders as he got slapped on the back by one of the guys and offered a hearty handshake by another.
So, Vanessa Douglas still had the smartest mouth in London.
‘I reckon you’ve finally found yourself a keeper.’
Cassie glanced over her shoulder, her arms elbow deep in soapy water, the noise from the raucous game of Twister in the living room covering Nessa’s murmured comment. The heat hit her neck as she gave what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug.
‘You mean Jace?’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ Nessa slanted her a don’t-play-the-innocent-with-me look. ‘So what happened to “I’m not ready for too much spectacular sex”?’ she teased in a little-girl voice.
Cassie coughed out a laugh and put the washed saucepan on the draining board. ‘For goodness’ sake, Ness, keep your voice down. After that candy-man comment everyone’s going to think I’m a loose woman.’
‘Like it isn’t already obvious how loose you are,’ Nessa said, picking up a tea towel.
Cassie’s blush intensified, but her lips quirked at Nessa’s typically saucy observation.
She’d had such a good time this afternoon, it was hard to get snippy with her best mate for pointing out the obvious. And in a funny way, the fact that Nessa could tell what a difference her days with Jace had made to her state of well-being reinforced her decision to indulge in her wild fling.
The afternoon had gone better than she could have hoped. And that had been mostly down to Jace. While it had taken a lot of persuasion and quite a bit of trickery to get him to Nessa’s, he’d relaxed and enjoyed himself once he was here. Her friends were a close-knit group, having all known each other since they were teenagers, but with his sharp wit and easy-going charm Jace had fitted right in. He’d joined in with their banter, told some entertaining stories about life in New York, wowed everyone with the apps on his phone that were just a small segment of his company’s output and had bonded with Nessa’s fiancé, Terrence, over the subject of Spurs’ chances of making Europe this year.
Funny to think that even after three years of dating Lance, none of her friends had ever hit it off with him nearly as well.
‘So what’s happening with you two?’ Nessa asked, picking up the wet saucepan. ‘Seems like you’ve got off to an excellent start.’
Cassie deposited a frying pan on the sideboard, and quashed the silly pang radiating up her torso. ‘It’s not the start of anything. It’s nothing more than a Christmas fling. He’s going back to New York on New Year’s Day and that’ll be the end of it.’
Nessa shoved the saucepan in a cupboard with a loud clatter. ‘That’s stupid. Why don’t you go over to New York with him for a while? See how things work out? You can draw anywhere.’
‘Ness, stop being absurd. Quite apart from the fact that he hasn’t invited me.’ And he wasn’t likely to, she thought as the silly pang got worse. ‘I told you, this isn’t a relationship. It’s just a bit of fun.’ Which was all she wanted, she told herself staunchly. But her golden glow from the afternoon faded a little.
‘Uh-huh,’ Nessa said, scepticism oozing from every pore. ‘You wanna know what I think?’
Cassie yanked the plug out and wiped her hands on Nessa’s tea towel. ‘Not really, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.’
‘He can’t take his eyes off you, especially when he thinks you aren’t looking. And your gaze follows him wherever he goes too. And you buy him a sweater that he wears first chance he gets. Plus you’ve been having spectacular sex for the last four days without an intermission.’ Nessa doggedly counted off the points on her fingers, then slapped her hands on her hips. ‘That is the start of something. It’s the st
art of something called a relationship.’
Cassie blew out a careful breath, tried to quell the seed of hope that had been budding inside her all day. The seed of hope that wanted to believe that what Nessa was saying was true, when her head already knew it wasn’t. ‘It’s not a relationship. It only looks that way.’
Nessa made a scoffing sound. ‘Why do you always sell yourself short like that?’
‘I’m not, I’m being realistic.’
Nessa waved the comment away with a flick of her wrist. ‘So that’s what they call giving up now, is it? Realism.’
‘I’m not giving up, it’s not like that.’ She couldn’t let herself hope again. Hope for something that wasn’t real. She’d learned that lesson too often to want to learn it again. And worse, she somehow knew that if she let herself dream for something permanent with Jace, the devastation would be that much worse. Because he already meant more to her—in four scant days—than Lance had meant to her after three years. ‘You’ve never had anyone tell you to your face, in the most graphic way possible, that you didn’t matter, so you don’t know what it’s like,’ she hit back.
‘Maybe not,’ Nessa conceded. ‘But then I never made the mistake of hitching my dreams to guys that weren’t worth the effort either.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Cassie whispered, shocked by the accusation in her friend’s voice. Nessa had been the Rock of Gibraltar throughout her adolescence and her adult life. She was the one who had always been there, picking her up when the men in her life had let her down, or abandoned her, or cheated on her.
Nessa gripped her upper arms, gave her a little shake. ‘Don’t get all pinched face on me. I’m not saying what Lance did was your fault. You’re the one who said that. But what I am saying is why did you ever settle for someone like him in the first place? He was never good enough for you, honey, but you were the only one who couldn’t see it. Now you’re falling in love with Jace Ryan, a guy who might actually be worthy of you, and you’re too scared to even admit it’cos for some dumb reason you think you’re not entitled to be that happy.’
‘It’s not that …’ Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t falling in love with Jace; she couldn’t be. Her panic button wasn’t just tripping now—alarm bells were blaring out at full blast.
‘Stop freaking out,’ Nessa said, pulling her into a hard hug. ‘All I’m saying is, if you decide you want him, don’t be scared to fight for him.’ She drew back, held Cassie at arm’s length, a confident smile spreading across her lips. ‘Because it’s exactly like they say in that hair ad. You’re worth it, honey.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘WHO’S Lance?’ Jace shifted gears too forcefully, making the rental car’s engine whine.
‘Hmm?’ Cassie glanced over from the passenger seat. She’d been subdued since they’d left Nessa’s place. But then so had he.
He’d had a good time. The food had been fabulous, and plentiful, and the company even better. But there was something about seeing Cassie with her friends, and getting drawn into their Christmas celebration, that had been kind of unsettling towards the end of the evening. As they’d said their goodbyes, it had occurred to him that he’d never see these people again. And for the first time ever he actually regretted the transient nature of the friendships in his own life.
Not that he was missing anything, he reassured himself. He had friends. Just not people he wanted to depend on, the way Cassie clearly depended on hers. But watching the way she blossomed in their company had been captivating. Gone was the woman who seemed unsure of herself. She had been more confident, more in control—just as she was when they made love.
Or at least she had been, until Terrence had made a passing reference to this guy Lance. Cassie had changed the subject and, after a few knowing looks had passed between her friends, they’d gone along with it. It was obvious they all felt protective towards her. Which had made him wonder what exactly it was they were protecting her from. Then of course he’d had to wonder why he cared.
But even knowing he shouldn’t care who Lance was, he hadn’t been able to stop the question spilling out.
It was just curiosity. He wanted to know why she’d changed the subject, and why the mention of the guy’s name had caused that moment of distress to flash across her face.
‘Or Lance the Loser, to give him his full name,’ Jace prompted, jerking his gaze from the road to watch her reaction.
A frown line appeared on her brow. ‘He’s nobody,’ she said. ‘Not any more.’
His fingers fisted on the steering wheel. So he did have something to do with Cassie. ‘But he was someone once,’ he said. ‘So who was he?’
And what was he to you?
She sighed, turned to look back out of the window as the darkened shops along Kingsland High Road whipped past. ‘We were engaged to be married,’ she murmured. ‘Until I found him doing the bare-butt boogie on my sofa with one of his ex-girlfriends.’ She huffed out a little laugh, but there was no humour in it. ‘I should have dumped him for being such a cliché, even without the cheating.’
‘Is he the relationship that came to a bad end?’ he asked, unable to keep the edge out of his voice as his knuckles whitened.
Loser was right. What kind of lowlife did that to a woman? Especially a woman as sweet-natured and generous as Cassie?
‘Yes, that would be Lance.’ Her affirmation sounded resigned and touched something deep inside him that hadn’t been touched in longer than he could remember.
The urge to comfort and reassure came from nowhere. Reaching across the console, he put his hand on her leg, squeezed. ‘He was obviously a total jerk.’
‘I know.’ She sighed heavily. ‘My problem is that I seem to be a magnet for total jerks. Even my dad was a total jerk.’
‘Yeah, how’s that?’ he asked, not sure he really wanted to know the answer. He knew what it was like to be screwed up by a parent. Thinking of Cassie having to go through that wasn’t the best way to keep his anger under control.
‘He didn’t do anything that terrible,’ she said carefully. ‘I’ve always been oversensitive about it.’
He doubted that, given the way she’d let Lance the Loser off the hook. ‘What did your father do?’
‘It’s not what he did. It’s what he didn’t do.’
He waited for her to elaborate.
‘My parents got divorced when I was four,’ she began. ‘He’d found someone else, and started a new family with her. He hurt my mum terribly but she maintained contact with him because she wanted me to have a relationship with him. Only problem was, I don’t think he was ever that interested. He felt guilty and obligated, so he went through the motions.’ She gave a soft sigh and he felt the pulse of anger beat in his temple.
He’d never considered becoming a father because he knew he wouldn’t be any good at it. His own role models had been atrocious and he didn’t like to rely on anyone, or have them rely on him. But even he couldn’t imagine being uninterested in your own flesh and blood.
‘He’d say he was going to take me to do this and that,’ Cassie murmured, her voice so quiet he almost couldn’t hear it. ‘We’d make arrangements, I’d get all excited and then …’ She paused. ‘Mostly, he didn’t show. He’d ring at the last minute with some excuse. And the few times he did show, usually because my mum had pressured him into it, he’d be preoccupied, talking on his mobile, or getting irritated with me if I asked too many questions. He was a busy man and he let me know that he didn’t have time for me.’
‘Good thing he didn’t show up more often,’ Jace said forcefully, thinking what a waste of space the guy must have been.
‘What?’
He shrugged. ‘Sounds like you were well rid of him. Who wants to spend time with a jerk like that.’
‘Do you know something? I’ve never even thought of it like that.’ She laughed, but this time the sound had the light tinkle of real amusement. ‘But you’re right. Whenever he didn’t turn up, my mum would
take me out instead. We’d go ice-skating or swimming, or one time she took me and Ness to the Open Air Theatre in Regent’s Park and we had a great time. She was always more fun than him anyway.’
The genuine pleasure in her voice had the uneasiness prickling up his spine again.
‘There you go,’ he murmured, lifting his hand off her knee.
Time to back off. You don’t get involved, remember?
‘What were your parents like, Jace?’ she asked softly.
He flinched. Where had that question come from?
He flipped up the indicator, then gripped the gear shift as he accelerated past St Paul’s Cathedral, the silence in the car suddenly deafening.
Cassie listened to the quiet hum of the powerful car’s engine and watched Jace’s jaw tense.
‘Why do you ask?’ he said, so evasively her heart pummelled her chest. She should probably let the subject drop, but his defensiveness was so unlike the confident man she had come to know, she didn’t want to back down. Had his parents been the thing he had wanted to escape?
‘When we were at school, I overheard Ms Tremall saying you came from a bad home,’ she said. ‘I always wondered what on earth she meant.’
‘I guess she meant it wasn’t good.’ He laughed, the sound brittle. ‘But it wasn’t that terrible. And it’s so long ago now, it doesn’t matter.’
Why did she have the feeling it did matter, then? She thought of the unguarded look of surprise and pleasure on his face when he had unwrapped her gift that morning, and realised it mattered a lot.
‘How bad was it?’
He looked at her as the car braked at the traffic lights along Fleet Street, his expression carefully blank. The sound of his thumb tapping a rapid tattoo on the steering wheel cut through the evening quiet. ‘You know what?’ he began, his voice tense. ‘How about we skip this conversation?’
Cassie studied the stiff set of his shoulders as he pressed his foot to the accelerator. ‘Why do you want to skip it, if it doesn’t matter?’
He accelerated as the lights changed, and hitched his shoulders. ‘Okay, fine,’ he said, his voice clipped. ‘If you really want to know, my mum married a guy when I was eight who had a violent temper and didn’t make much of an effort to control it.’
