Recovery

by JC Harroway

  ‘Well?’ said Eddy, as the catcalls continued.

  ‘No. I’m afraid I haven’t.’

  Eddy retrieved the slip of paper from Nathan and flipped it over, reading out the name of the person who’d submitted the question and inviting her to reveal herself. She was four or five rows in front of me, and I sank lower into my chair as the overhead camera zoomed in on her. I would guard my anonymity until I knew my gamble had paid off.

  The game continued in a similar way, the questions equally personal and to my surprise, Nathan answered them all. Finally, Eddy reached for the last slip of paper and my heart rate ratcheted to deafening levels, the whoosh of blood through my head so powerful it made me dizzy.

  ‘Oh. This one isn’t a question,’ said Eddy, glancing at the audience before showing the slip of paper to his close-up camera.

  My breathing stopped as I recognised my penmanship and although I was convinced I had none left, a fresh wave of adrenaline slammed into me, knocking me back in my seat.

  Nathan and the other guests craned their necks to see the message, but Eddy had already flipped it over to search for an identifier. Shrugging, he was about to toss the paper away, when Nathan interrupted. ‘May I?’ He held out his hand and I sucked in a long forgotten breath to prevent my vision darkening.

  I knew the second he saw the note, shock yanking the persona mask from his face as he lifted frantic eyes to dart across the audience members. Seeking me? He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t shrugging it off either, and in those long seconds I wished I knew what was running through his mind.

  Eddy, sharp as a tack, asked, ‘Does this mean something to you?’ His bewildered stare turned shrewd as his gape swung between Nathan and the audience.

  As if the roof of the studio had been pulled back allowing the brilliance of the sun to stream in, Nathan grinned, still focused on the drawing in his hand. He spoke as if to himself, but the microphone he wore picked up his quiet affirmation. ‘Yes, yes it does.’

  Once again he scanned the crowd, his emerald eyes sparkling as his whole face lit up. If I’d thought he was breathtaking before, now he was incandescent, completely obliterating my body’s need for oxygen altogether.

  I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth to cover the sound, which to my ears had filled the studio with noise. But only the woman next to me noticed, her head swivelling in my direction before she returned her rapt attention to the bizarre scenario being played out on the stage.

  Nathan cleared his throat and his hand delved into his hair. ‘Do you remember I said personal reasons had drawn me back to London? Well …’ he held up the paper, ‘… this person—she’s the reason I’m here. Is she in the audience?’ He tucked the note inside his jacket pocket and moved to the edge of his seat, his expectant gaze flitting from Eddy to the people seated before him.

  The studio lights came up, illuminating the audience as Eddy took control of the situation, his eyes gleaming as if he’d just been handed the scoop of the century. ‘Do we have the owner of the last note in the audience?’ The cameras filming us panned across the rows of curious faces as heads started to turn.

  This was it. The moment I’d dreaded and anticipated since the idea came to me two weeks ago. Gathering all of my courage and emboldened by Nathan’s still glowing features, I pulled myself to my feet on wobbly legs.

  ‘I’m here,’ I said, waving an arm above my head to attract the attention of the cameras and the overhead microphone. They found me, zeroing in on my position as the people seated around me gasped and stared.

  My attention fixed on a pair of dazzling green eyes across the studio. With my own face projected back at me from the large screen to the right of the set, my confidence dwindled and my stomach plummeted as I took in my huge eyes and pale skin.

  I hadn’t thought things through this far, not believing I’d ever get to this position, convinced Nathan would either never see my note or, if he did, that he’d disregard it. I was directionless, all rational thought deserting me, taking any sensible speech with it.

  ‘There she is—you drew this?’ Eddy’s voice rang out, reminding me I was in a studio full of people and the spectacle I was making of myself would be beamed around the world and spread across the internet like wildfire. My drawing was projected on the large screen—a stick woman holding out her heart to a stick man.

  Before I could do little more than nod in affirmation, Nathan shot out of his seat, the audience gasping as he bounded off the raised stage in one leap and took the stairs two at a time to reach my row. Eddy was left fumbling for something to say, delighted shock plastered all over his face as he tried to regain control of his own chat show.

  I was seated at least ten people from the end of the row. The minute Nathan left his seat I began to jostle and weave my way past my fellow viewers who gave up shrinking back in their seats and tucking in their knees and stood instead to ease my passage.

  I stumbled in my haste past the last set of feet, but before I could right my footing, I was hauled into a hard chest, a strong set of arms banded around me, squeezing me so hard the air was forced from my lungs.

  Nothing had ever felt so perfect. I buried my nose in his expensive shirt, sucking in the delicious Nathan smell and loving the feel of his heat seeping through the linen to warm my skin. I didn’t care that the whole studio was watching us, witnessing our reunion. I didn’t care that these images, this story, would be on every celebrity site in the world tomorrow. I didn’t even care my job might be in jeopardy if the paparazzi decided to hound me again. All that mattered was Nathan.

  His hold on me loosened as the cheering of the crowd registered on my overwhelmed senses. His head dipped and his lips found my ear. ‘I love you.’ It was the faintest whisper, delivered to protect the intimate admission from public broadcast over the microphone he wore, but I heard it, the words so welcome, they screamed in my head and joined the surge of joy spilling from me.

  I pulled back, my burning eyes finding his, shutting out the rest of the world as I drank him in—every last magnificent drop of him. Placing my hand over the tiny microphone on his lapel, I stretched up, my lips hovering over his ear as I repeated his words. ‘I love you too.’

  His answering smile was my favourite—unguarded, open and with just a hint of vulnerability. Gripping my shoulders, he swooped his mouth down on mine, stealing my breath with a brief and restrained kiss. Grasping my hand, he turned back to the cameras, waving at the cheering audience, and led me down the stairs and behind the row of equipment at the edge of the stage.

  In the shadows off-stage he pulled me once more to his chest, his mouth covering mine in a kiss that spoke louder than any words he could have uttered at that moment. Eyes spilling over with burning emotions, he grinned one final time before turning away and striding back onto the stage to take his seat on the sofa.

  With my heart full and on shaky legs, I followed a grinning Jake backstage to watch the rest of the show from the green room.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  FLOATING in a warm cocoon of scented bubbles with my back pressed to Nathan’s chest in his giant bath, a wave of contentment washed over me. Soft classical music played from unseen speakers and candles flickered on the nearby vanity, but I was aware only of Nathan—his arms around me, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my back, and our fingers and legs entwined beneath the water.

  Nathan pressed his lips to my temple, leaning forward to add more hot water to the bath. We’d talked for so long our fingers were pruney, and this was third time he’d topped up the bath with hot water. We’d talked about my father’s recovery and the meeting with Professor Everett. Nathan told me about his new role in the West End play and how he would be pursuing the kind of roles he wanted in the UK for the time being. To be close to me.

  ‘I never left you,’ he soothed, kissing me again. ‘I know how those photos looked, but it wasn’t what it seemed.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘We had an interview with a journal
ist at a hotel—a standard interview session about the film. I didn’t know there was a lurker. But Claudia loves being photographed. I wouldn’t be surprised if her publicist tipped them off that we’d be there. When I was leaving, she leaned in to kiss my cheek, like she always does, and at the last minute she grabbed me and twisted her face. It lasted a second before I pushed her away, but by then they’d already got the shot.’

  I closed my eyes, willing my body to remain relaxed as his explanation unfolded.

  ‘I’m done with her—I won’t act with her again. She’s toxic. I’m just sorry it took me so long to recognise it.’ His arms flexed, squeezing me tighter.

  ‘I called you. After the nurses found your note. She answered your phone.’

  ‘Jake had it—said she wrestled it from him and answered it. I’m sorry—I could have lost you forever.’ His deep voice rumbled through his chest. I felt the vibrations at my back. Reaching for a sponge, he poured a measure of body wash and ran the suds down one of my arms to the tips of my fingers. Scooping the hair from one side of my neck, he placed a soft kiss on my shoulder before drawing the sponge gently over the skin there.

  ‘Soph, I missed you,’ he whispered, his voice gruff with emotion.

  ‘I missed you too, Nathan, almost more than I could endure.’ The confession felt cathartic, and my spirit soared with the rightness of it. ‘Tell me about your play?’ I willed my thoughts back from the abyss, that dark frigid place where I’d existed without Nathan.

  His arms relaxed, his chest expanding on a sigh. ‘It’s a period drama, set in Ireland.’

  ‘Have you done period work before?’

  I felt his nod behind me as he slipped the sponge beneath the water, using it to caress my breasts and belly.

  ‘You didn’t play Mr Darcy, did you?’ I turned to glance at him. ‘Cos we’d have to rent that on DVD if you did.’

  He raised an eyebrow, his crooked grin teasing me. ‘Got a thing for Mr Darcy, have you?’

  ‘Who hasn’t?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not. I played Frederick Wentworth in Persuasion.’

  ‘Oh—do you still have the costume? I’m sure it would work for Mr Darcy.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do if it means that much to you, beautiful girl. Come on, let’s get you to bed. It’s after one.’

  Nathan rose from the water and retrieved two towels form the heated towel rail. Wrapping one around his waist, he held the second open, bundling it around me. Quickly, he dried the droplets from his skin. Lucky droplets. I wanted to lick them off, but I was too tired, my limbs heavy and my head fuzzy. It had been many days since I’d slept soundly—I hoped to break the cycle tonight, wrapped in Nathan.

  He dipped and swung me up into his arms, striding to his bed and depositing me on his cool sheets. Moments later he returned with a hairdryer, which he used to quickly dry first my hair and then his own. Climbing in beside me, he wrapped his arms around me, spooning. I felt his erection nudge my backside, and I arched my back, pressing him between our bodies.

  ‘Ignore that—it’s missed you too. Go to sleep, beautiful girl.’

  Overwhelming contentment enveloped me and I slept.

  ***

  I opened my eyes to the orange glow of a spectacular morning peeking through the curtains of Nathan’s bedroom in St Johns Wood. I was warm, comfortable and euphoric to find myself here.

  Nathan slept, his arm and leg flung over me, caging me in. His familiar features were relaxed, his hair a sexy, rumpled mess—just how I liked it. I wanted to touch it, but didn’t want to disturb him, loving the feel of his solid body pressing me into the mattress and the rhythmic expand and collapse of his chest as he breathed in slumber.

  The sheets were pooled around his waist, exposing his golden torso to my greedy gaze, and I longed to wake him. I had a surprise for him today.

  Affording him a few more minutes of sleep and myself a little longer to indulge in my blatant staring, I thought back to the chat show last night, grinning at the success of my gamble.

  How had I ever believed I could live without this man whose presence in my life felt as necessary as oxygen? Yes, there would be tough times ahead, obstacles to overcome, but he was worth it, and I would appear on the nightly news naked wearing a snorkel mask and flippers if I had to in order to be with him.

  I thought of his confession to Eddy Miller last night—he’d come back to London for me. He’d taken UK-based work to be close to me. I’d wait until later to tell him I was willing to move to LA.

  Turning my head so it faced his on the pillow, I pressed my lips to his forehead, my nose in his hair, breathing him in.

  His lips twitched and I moved my mouth to his eyelids, feeling the soft caress of his eyelashes on my lower lip. Emerging from sleep, his arm tightened around my waist, pulling me in, and his lids fluttered open beneath my mouth.

  ‘Good morning, beautiful.’ His voice was sexy, thick with sleep as he groaned, turning his face into my neck and pressing his morning erection into my thigh.

  ‘Morning,’ I whispered, my lips caressing any part of him they could reach. ‘Guess what day it is today?’

  He gasped, his head shooting up from the pillow. ‘It’s not your birthday, is it? I thought you said it was November second.’ His hair stood on end and his panicked eyes gave him a comical air. I clamped my lips together to stop the laughter that threatened to ruin my morning seduction.

  ‘No, not my birthday.’ I could draw out the suspense for a while—tease him. But I was impatient, my news bursting to escape.

  He relaxed back on the bed, tugging me up on top of him until I was sprawled over his hard chest, my naked breasts squashed between us and my hair spilling around my face.

  ‘I know what day it is.’ His fingers teased my scalp as he tilted my head back so he could stare at me. ‘It’s the day I tell you I love you again, over and over until you get it.’ His mouth dipped to mine as he whispered those three words over my lips, between kisses.

  My heart stuttered, his words expanding my chest until I could no longer breathe. I grasped his wrists, gathering my wits to steer my game back on track. ‘Nope, two more guesses.’

  His head dropped back onto the pillow and he moved his hands from my hair, trailing them down my back to cup my buttocks as he lifted his hips to meet mine. ‘It’s the day you move in with me—I’m not letting you go again.’

  His words thrilled me, ramping up my excitement until I almost blurted out my secret. ‘Oh dear, last guess, and if you don’t get it this time you’ll forfeit your reward.’ I rolled to the side, fully intending to leave the bed to keep my tease going. I didn’t get far. In a swift move I was pinned beneath Nathan’s hips, both my hands clasped in one of his above my head.

  He fully embraced the game, his eyes sparkling with mirth and a sliver of excitement. ‘Tell me what day it is.’ His free hand cupped my breast, his fingers working on my nipple. ‘Or I’ll pleasure it out of you.’ His mouth replaced his hand as I writhed beneath him.

  I choked out my words before the power of speech deserted me completely. ‘Well now I’m never going to tell you.’

  He lifted his head, flashing me a crooked grin. ‘Fuck you’re beautiful. I missed you.’ His mouth covered mine once more and I forgot I was teasing him, forgot what I wanted to tell him. I practically forgot my own name as I succumbed to the pleasure. We kissed for a long time, the lush, languid kind of kisses of two lovers in no hurry, drawing every drop of rapture from every caress.

  Moving my lips to his ear, I whispered, ‘It’s No Condom day.’

  ‘What?’ He pushed me away, his excited gaze searching mine and his mouth gloriously swollen. We’d switched places during all the kissing and I straddled him, pinning his hands to the bed beside his head as I lowered my mouth to torture him some more. ‘You heard me—what are you waiting for? What’s with all the chit-chat?’ I sucked his silky earlobe into my mouth and flicked it with the tip of my tongue, simulating the amazing things he did t
o my clitoris.

  I leaned forward so that my hair fell in two curtains around our faces. A lock tickled his nose and he blew it away to the side. Brushing my lips against his in a barely-there caress, I teased him with the sway of my hips, rubbing my sex over his taut abdomen and leaving behind a trail of moisture. Bending a little lower, I nudged the head of his erection with my backside.

  He hissed, gripping my fingers tighter, and watched me with hooded eyes. His hips lifted off the bed and I moved out of reach, enjoying my power trip.

  ‘You know it’s going to feel amazing, don’t you?’ I taunted him, my lips barely touching the curve of his ear. ‘When you’re buried inside me, it’s going to feel warm and soft and wet.’

  Groaning, he twisted his head, trying to capture my lips with his.

  ‘I’m going to come around you, squeezing you, sucking you inside me, and you’re not going to be able to stop yourself, because it will feel so good. You’re going to come too, inside me, skin to skin.’

  His tenuous control snapped. With a sudden shove and a twist, our positions were reversed and I was crushed beneath him, my hands pinned. He kissed the triumphant smile from my face, his mouth claiming mine with a feral groan. I’d done my job well. He was wildly aroused and, I hoped, intent on our mutual pleasure.

  Locking his arms, he raised his chest up and ground his erection onto my slippery sex, bumping my clitoris and sending tiny shockwaves down to my toes.

  He had a lazy grin on his face, and his leer cruised over my breasts and across the curve of my tummy.

  Pinned to the bed and aching with need, I was helpless and at the mercy of his heated stare and grinding hips. I needed more. My nipples throbbed for the warm suction of his mouth and I craved the amazing fullness of his hard length inside me.