Reformed Bad Girl

by Shelley Munro

  “I’ll tell everyone you’re a fraud.”

  Hayley stood and filled a pot with tea leaves. She poured water over them and prepared a cup of tea.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “I heard,” Hayley said. “But I don’t owe you anything.”

  Abbey’s mouth set in a hard line. It made her appear cruel. Her sister looked so much better when she smiled.

  “I know about you and that man. I saw the photos.”

  Hayley flinched and Abbey noticed. Her sister gave a tiny triumphant cry. “I knew it,” she said. “You love him.”

  “We’re just friends.” Hayley said the words so quickly she knew she’d given herself away. “Is there a point to this conversation?” What photos? What was Abbey talking about? Curiosity gnawed at her, although she knew better than to ask and reveal further weakness to her sister.

  “I need money. Today.”

  Hayley took a deep breath. It did nothing to settle her fears. “No.”

  “You’ll change your mind,” Abbey said, her blue eyes glittering. “You won’t like the consequences if you don’t.”

  Threats. What could her sister do to her to make things worse? She already felt alienated from the rest of her family. Abbey had taken that from her.

  “You’ve made your point, but I’m not biting. No money. That’s my final decision.”

  Abbey stood abruptly, her eyes flashing dislike. “If my marriage breaks up, it will be your fault.”

  Hayley’s mouth dropped open in shock. “My fault? How could it be my fault?”

  “Ohh!” Abbey stomped her right foot but her spiked heel sank into the grass, spoiling the effect as she struggled to remove it from the soil.

  Suddenly everything clicked into place for Hayley. “Dan’s not the one with the gambling problem. It’s you.”

  A faint blush spread across Abbey’s face before disdain and pride replaced it. “It’s none of your business.” She whirled away and left without another word, leaving Hayley standing alone.

  The rest of the fair passed in a blur. Hayley thought about Sam, worried she hadn’t told him the truth. She wondered about the photos Abbey mentioned. A frown settled onto her face. What did it really matter? She cleared away a customer’s cup and teapot with a harsh sigh.

  Sam wasn’t serious about her. There was no point in seeing him again when she loved him, and he didn’t return the sentiment. The ache in her chest intensified. Funny—she’d gone into this with eyes open. A one-night stand. She should have known she was only fooling herself. One-night stands weren’t her style, and once she’d seen Sam, made love with him, it was all over.

  She’d fallen in love.

  The apartment was silent when she entered. Hayley set down her bag and noticed her mobile sitting on the counter. “So that’s where I left you.” She picked it up and noticed she had messages. Soon Sam’s voice sounded, and she smiled. He wanted to see her, he said. Hope surged until she reminded herself not to get carried away. His messages didn’t necessarily mean anything. Only one way to find out.

  She rang Sam, her heart pounding anxiously.

  “Sam? It’s H-Helen.” Oops, nearly said Hayley. As soon as she saw him face-to-face she was telling him her real name and the reasons she’d used Helen. Hiding her identity hardly mattered now that Abbey knew she read teacups to earn money. Abbey would make sure everyone knew she was a big fraud.

  “Are you at home?”

  “Yes.”

  “I missed you.” His voice slipped to intimate and her heart skipped a beat. Her hand tightened on the phone.

  “I’ll come over,” he said. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  The phone disconnected and Hayley stood for a few moments, her mobile pressed to her ear. A smile bloomed. He’d missed her and was coming over.

  Less than fifteen minutes later the intercom rang.

  “Sam?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  Hayley buzzed him in and went to the door.

  “Helen.” Sam seized her and spun her around, lifting her off the ground. Before she could answer, he kissed her, his firm lips ravishing hers with a kind of desperation. She tunneled her hands into his dark hair and held on for the ride. When he finally lifted his head, they were both breathing hard.

  “Is Suzie at home?”

  “No. She’s out for a few hours.”

  “Good,” he said. “Which is your bedroom?”

  Pleasure simmered through her while good sense took a nosedive. His hand clasped hers and she led him into her room. He kicked the door shut behind him.

  “Sam, I—”

  “We can talk later,” he said. “Right now I want to make love to you.”

  “But what about—”

  He covered her mouth with his hand. “Helen. Later, please.”

  Hayley winced inwardly, but he drew her close, his hands cupping her head. She’d left her hair loose again, not bothering to tame her rampant curls into straight locks with heating irons. She’d left her contacts out and stared up at him in bemusement. The look in his eyes…it heated her right through.

  He tugged off her cotton sweater and tossed it aside, his big hands cupping her breasts through her T-shirt. Hayley shivered, the touch of his hands too much. Desire. It simmered through her urgent and hot.

  “Sam,” she whispered.

  “I need you. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I missed you, too.” Nothing less than the truth.

  “Show me,” he said, his dark eyes twinkling with challenge. “Show me how much.”

  Hayley rubbed her hand over his cheek, noting the stubble. He hadn’t even taken time to shave. The sensitive pads of her fingers explored further, brushing his eyelids, his cheeks and finally his mouth. A gasp escaped when the warmth of his lips closed around her finger. He pulled away with a laugh.

  “I love the way you respond to me. It makes me hot.”

  “I can see how hot it makes you,” Hayley said with a laugh, reveling in the hard brush of his erection.

  “Strip for me,” he whispered. “I want to see you.”

  Suddenly self-conscious, Hayley backed away. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Of course you can.” The seductive glint in his brown eyes told her how much he wanted her to strip for him. “Besides, you have a streak of daring that I find very sexy.”

  Hayley stilled in surprise. “You do?” All her life she’d been told to hide her impulsiveness and Sam wanted her to put it on display, especially for him. The knowledge was incredibly arousing. A slow smile crawled across her face and she took a step back. With a devilish smile, she pushed the start button on her music system and the pure notes of a sax throbbed through the room.

  Hayley swayed in time to the music, hips lazily rocking from side to side. She toed off her shoes, kicking them out of the way. Next, she whisked her pale blue T-shirt over her head and blew Sam a kiss. He didn’t take his eyes off her. She stroked a hand across her bare belly and threw back her shoulders, knowing it would display her breasts for him. Her hands went to the button fastening of her black cotton trousers. The zipper eased down, and she shimmied from them, pausing on the spot to display her pale blue lingerie.

  “I think blue is my favorite color.”

  “But you’re not sure?” she teased, still swaying seductively.

  “No, I’m sure,” he whispered. “Blue is my favorite color. The color of your eyes.”

  Hayley tingled all over. Arousal seeped through her, pulling her nipples to hard points. Her breathing deepened, her voice becoming husky.

  “Shall I go on?”

  “Please.”

  Hayley reached behind to unfasten her bra and shrugged out of it. She sighed with pleasure, the cool air on her heated flesh bringing a sensual shiver. Her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip, and she noticed Sam watching with avid interest. He followed the move when she repeated it. Impulse led her to touch her own breasts. She skimmed her fingers across the creamy
flesh, strumming one nipple. The spike of pleasure brought a gasp. She watched Sam closely and saw he liked seeing her do this. She rolled one nipple between finger and thumb, letting her head roll back and her hair spill over her shoulder in a mass of curls.

  “That is so hot,” Sam said. “So fuckin’ hot.” As he spoke, he discarded his clothes, rapidly stripping until he stood before her, proud and naked.

  Hayley paused.

  “Keep going,” he ordered in a tight voice. Arousal glittered in his eyes and glowed along his cheekbones.

  She slipped her hands down her body and pulled down her pale blue panties. She stepped out of them, still swaying to the seductive wail of the saxophone. Unbidden, her hands crept back up to her breasts, unconsciously doing what she wanted Sam to do to her. She cupped her breasts, offering them to him. Yes, she should have felt stupid, but he understood her perfectly. With one giant step, he closed the distance between them.

  “Hold them for me,” he instructed in a hoarse voice.

  Blood ran hot through her veins, and when his mouth closed over one swollen nipple, heat suffused her in a full body blush. He drew hard, sucking and teasing the tender bud with his teeth. The pull stretched clear to her toes. A moan escaped, and she didn’t even flinch.

  This was about pleasure.

  This was about love.

  Her love for this incredible man, even if he didn’t return the sentiment she knew he liked her.

  “Sam,” she whispered, not bothering to hide her longing. “I need you so much.”

  Her nipple popped from his mouth and gleamed wetly in the light. For an instant his hooded gaze studied the result, and she swayed toward him in sheer need. Pure craving and lust all wrapped up with love, respect and desire—what had the man done to her?

  “Good.” He swung her into his arms, lifting her effortlessly. He laughed when she shrieked with surprise and spun her around once before dropping her onto the single bed.

  He grasped her hands and lifted them so they rested above her head. With anyone else she might have experienced alarm because she was no lightweight, but she grinned and winked at him with quiet confidence. “What ya gonna do with me?”

  “I could do something adventurous.” His sensual lips quirked up at the corners.

  Hayley studied him closely before she loosed a smile. “Sounds like fun. Do you have any chocolate body paint? I’ve always wanted to try that.”

  Sam glided a hand over her collarbone and across the upper curves of her breasts, the warmth of his palm and the slight calluses on his fingers sending shivers of pleasure arrowing to her core. “I’ll put it on my shopping list.” He grabbed a condom and rolled it on with rapid competence.

  She twinkled up at him. “Most men don’t like shopping.”

  “I’m not most men.”

  So she’d come to see. He cared about his employees and did his best for his clients. He didn’t play the rich man card or throw his society status at anyone. “I know.”

  Sam leaned over to kiss a trail over her jaw and down her neck. Hayley bared her neck for him, to allow him easy access. The touch of his lips and his heady scent pulled at her, the sound of the jazz still floating through the room.

  “I thought of you this weekend,” he whispered, and the heat in his eyes said he spoke the truth.

  She turned her head and their lips met, sliding together in the perfect kiss. Hayley arched upward, rubbing her softness against his contrasting hardness. She sighed her pleasure, holding him to her. They kissed again, moving their bodies together in perfect harmony. Hayley breathed in his scent, shaped and molded his muscles and pulled him into her. Pleasure simmered, growing more, becoming more. She released the last of her inhibitions and made love, showing with every touch, every gasp how much she cared.

  Wild. Fast and breathtaking.

  She exploded in fiery pleasure, flames licking through her sensitized body. Both breathing hard, they kissed slowly and with lingering touches, carefully stoking the passion between them again. This time when they fell into climax, it was warm and tender and full of love. Hayley sighed, abuzz with pleasure and something else.

  Love.

  She loved Sam so much it hurt.

  “Helen,” he murmured, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

  She froze, guilt slashing through her pleasure. Lies. Secrets. They were coming back to bite her in the butt. Somehow there had to be a way to show him they were right for each other, that they belonged together. There had to be a way to clear the slate and make everything right.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hayley woke several hours later, cocooned in warmth, her nose pressed against a masculine chest. Disoriented, she stirred and arms tightened, clasping her in safety. Security.

  Sam.

  She smiled, remembering the way they’d made love. At first wild and uncontrolled and then slower, each touch filled with tenderness.

  The room lay in darkness, with a faint stream of light entering via the single window. Hayley wondered about the time.

  “Are you awake?” Sam’s husky rumble sent goose bumps skittering across her arms and legs.

  She shifted, stretching against him, taking great pleasure in the fact he had stayed with her, fallen asleep in her bed.

  “Yeah, I’m awake.” Maybe he’d stay the entire night and they could make love again. She suppressed an urge to laugh, stuffing the champagne-like bubbles fizzing through her veins into a smile instead. Sam. She pictured a future between them and happiness spread through her until she remembered the lie.

  Her smile died, replaced by a frown and guilt. She had to tell him the truth.

  Now. The relationship couldn’t go ahead with lies standing between them. She wouldn’t let it.

  “Can we talk?”

  “Sounds serious.” Despite the light tone, caution came through loud and clear. Sam pulled away from her and she rolled over, only to fall off the single bed.

  She landed with a thump.

  “Ouch.” Hayley rubbed her hip.

  “Oh, hell. I’m sorry.” Sam crouched by her side. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Let me get the light.” She pushed to her feet, scowling. A bad omen. Reaching over, she flicked on the light, slitting her eyes against the harsh glare. When she focused, it was on his broad chest. A naked chest. Suddenly discomfit filled her. She reached for her robe and struggled into it. She belted it firmly around her waist and, when she glanced at Sam, his confusion was clear.

  “Are you kicking me out because I pushed you out of bed?”

  “No! I…would you like a coffee or something?” Thinking about doing something and actually doing it were miles apart. Nerves tap-danced an Irish jig through her stomach and the thickness in her throat made her wonder if she could get out the necessary words. Hayley swallowed in an attempt to dislodge the lump. She had to tell him. Now, before it was too late.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Concern flickered across Sam’s face. “Oh, hell. You saw the paper.” He reached for his jeans and stepped into them. “The publicity is a fact of life. I don’t like it, but it’s there, whether I like it or not.”

  “Paper?” Was that what Abbey had been talking about?

  “Yeah, a photo of you and me with accompanying story.”

  Hayley clutched her shoulders, wrapping her arms around her body. Cold fingers of chill crept across her skin, and she shivered. “Whisky. I’m sure there’s whisky,” she muttered, needing to move, to escape. She almost ran from the bedroom in the direction of the kitchen.

  Sam stared after her, guilt a heavy weight on his shoulders. The publicity was his fault. He hated living in a fishbowl, but it wasn’t about the change. According to Jase, the attention he received had eased off after his marriage. It seemed the gossip columns liked to concentrate on singles. Frowning, Sam strode toward the kitchen where he could hear Helen slamming cupboards and talking to herself.

  “Sam?” Suzie appeared from behind him. Obviously, she’d arrived home at some stag
e, although he hadn’t heard her. “What’s going on?”

  “I mentioned the photo in the gossip column to Helen. She said something about whisky.”

  “Oh.” The curiosity in Suzie’s face blanked out. She frowned, glanced past him and backed up. “I’ll head back to my room. I’m working on the Blackmoore’s conference plan.”

  Sam stepped into the kitchen. “Helen?”

  The expression on her face froze him in place.

  “Whisky,” she said, slamming a glass down on the countertop.

  Sam was surprised the glass didn’t shatter. Silently, he walked over to pick up the drink.

  “I need to tell you something,” she said.

  She was going to tell him she didn’t want to see him again. Sam gripped his glass, alarm jumping to life. No surprise. He didn’t like constant publicity, so why would she?

  Her breasts rose and fell beneath the robe she wore, the cloth gaping to let him view the upper curves. He realized then what his gut had told him all along. He wanted her in his life.

  “My name isn’t Helen.”

  It took a while for her words to register. He stared, his mouth firming and took a sip from his whisky, watching her, waiting for her to explain.

  “Did you hear me?” She paced the length of the kitchen, her long, curly hair flying with each turn. He loved watching her, loved the fact she had real curves. “Sam?”

  “Yeah, I heard.” He took another sip of his drink, the peaty taste burning all the way down his throat.

  “My name is Hayley. Hayley Jones.”

  “Why the lie?” Anger flared to life, burning as much as the whisky. His soft curse made her flinch, the mood between them now chilly. Mistrustful. He advanced a step and took no pleasure in the way she retreated. His gut knotted, the deceit unpalatable. He wanted the truth, dammit. “Why? Are you going to tell me you have another name next week?” Hell, he hated liars.

  Amber’s fault, since she’d lied to him from their first date to their final turbulent parting. Of course, he’d had a close skirmish with a female reporter before he’d met Amber, which hadn’t helped much in the trust stakes. These days he liked a large slice of honesty in his relationships.