Hayley fished her mobile out of her handbag and dialed, biting her lip while she waited for her friend to answer.
“It’s Hayley,” she said when Suzie answered. “Could you tell me where Sam is? Is he in the office?”
“No, we’re at the Earl’s Court Exhibition center helping a client set up for a trade show.”
“Could I come down there?” Hayley couldn’t keep the pleading from her voice. An ache had wrapped around her heart and wouldn’t let go. She had to make this right. Even if he didn’t return her sentiments, at least she’d have the bittersweet knowledge that he understood she wasn’t out for money or cheap publicity.
“We’re going to a pub down the road for drinks and something to eat at four. The Tournament on Old Brompton Road. Hayley, I tried to talk to him about you and he walked away. I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“I’ll find the pub. I have to talk to him, even if he never wants to see me again, I need him to know I wasn’t responsible.”
Suzie’s sigh sounded down the phone. “Abbey is such a bitch.”
The tight sensation intensified, spikes of nervous energy making her shoulders tense. “I’m leaving now. I’ll wait in the pub.”
Sam saw Hayley standing at the bar as soon as he entered the pub, despite the way she’d dressed to blend and had a navy blue cap pulled low over her face. He turned to walk back out, but Suzie blocked his exit.
“Talk to her, or rather, listen. Give her a chance. I wouldn’t have set you up if I suspected Hayley was guilty.”
“I should fire you,” Sam snapped.
She laughed, the burst of humor lightening the seriousness of her face. “But you won’t because I’m good.”
“We’ll see,” he muttered darkly. “I might fire you yet.” He shot a glance at Hayley, saw her catch her bottom lip between her teeth, abusing it while she stared at a drink she never touched. He crossed the carpeted floor to stand beside her. “You wanted to talk?” Up close, her delicate floral scent flowed over him, punching him with memories he didn’t want to examine.
“I…yes. Please.” A tic started in her jaw, the small throb letting him see her anxiety. It relaxed the tension in his gut and shoulders.
“Grab a table while I get a drink.”
Hayley nodded and headed over to the far corner of the room to one of the few empty tables. It wasn’t an ideal setting for a private conversation, but she couldn’t attempt seduction with this many people around either. They’d need to watch out for loitering reporters.
Sam purchased his drink plus a couple of sausage sandwiches before heading over to Hayley.
“I have half an hour before I need to return to the convention center.”
Hayley nodded and waited until he pulled out one of the fabric-covered stools and sat. “I’m so sorry. It was my older sister, Abbey, who spoke to the reporter. They used the facts she gave them plus what they’d discovered to write the story.” She paused, looking down at her hands before raising her head to meet his gaze. “We’ve just found out Abbey has a gambling problem. She wanted me to give her a loan and when I refused, she contacted the reporter. I have never spoken to a reporter and won’t. I’m a private person and I don’t want my personal life splashed across every newspaper and magazine.” She made a moue of distaste. “I don’t know how you cope with the constant publicity. It would drive me insane. People look and whisper all the time. I hate it,” she added fiercely.
“It’s not much fun. Have you spoken to any reporters since the story came out?”
“No, I haven’t. Wait…there was a woman who came up to me on the train while I was going home to see my parents. She gave me a business card and told me to call her if I wanted to talk, but that was all.” Her blue eyes beseeched him to have faith in her.
“Okay.” Sam picked up half of his sandwich and ate it in silence. He noticed the occupants of the table next to them staring. When he glared at them, they hurriedly looked away.
“You believe me?”
Did he? He had the sources to check, but more than anything, he trusted Suzie. She had confidence in Hayley, and that made him accept her story. “Yes, I believe you. It’s easy enough for me to check.”
“I’ll give you Dan, my brother-in-law’s contact details if you’d like. I told him I’d speak to you about Abbey. He won’t mind talking to you.”
Sam finished off his sandwich and took a sip of his beer. This morning things had been so clear. This thing between them was over. Anger had made things easy. But now…
His shoulders heaved in a deep breath. No. He couldn’t do this now. He needed to think, to work out exactly what he wanted from Hayley. Sam downed the rest of his beer and stood.
“Thanks for telling me. Appreciate it.” And he walked away.
Hayley stared after him in shock. Her eyes narrowed as anger built. That was it? He was walking away after everything between them, without exploring the possibilities? The magic between them was rare. Didn’t he know that? A harsh breath rasped from her lungs, her hands clenched and unclenched. He couldn’t do this. Walk away without looking back. She wouldn’t let him. If he could stand in front of her and say he didn’t love her, he didn’t care then she might accept it. Even though it hurt.
Hayley decided she’d go to his apartment. Confront him one final time for her peace of mind. She’d hate knowing she hadn’t tried, had given up without a fight. Yeah, she knew herself. Regrets—she’d have more than a few.
Hayley finished her drink and stood, stopping to say goodbye to Suzie. “I’m going back to the flat. I’ll see you later.”
Outside the pub, three men pounced. “Hayley, what’s up with you and the playboy millionaire?”
Hayley held her head high and kept walking, weaving through the pedestrians. The reporters followed, firing questions, but she ignored them. As she neared Earl’s Court tube station, the crowds thickened with shoppers, convention people and workers heading home. Australian accents. English. South African and European. One of the more determined reporters followed her onto the train. He reminded Hayley of a whining mosquito.
“Go away,” she snapped. “Leave me alone.”
“Is he bothering you, Miss?” A large man covered with dust from a nearby building site stood behind the reporter.
“Yes,” Hayley said with a glare at the reporter intent on hounding her until she gave him an interview. “This man is following me and I don’t know him. If he doesn’t stop I will call the police.” Hayley scowled at the man and plucked her mobile from her handbag. She keyed in her password and started to dial.
With a curse, the reporter shoved past the commuters standing in the aisle, leaving Hayley staring after him.
“Thanks,” she said to the builder.
“No problem. Don’t like men like him.”
At seven thirty Hayley decided Sam should have arrived home by now or at least be close. After changing her clothes four times, Hayley finally settled on casual—jeans and a blouse in her favorite blue along with brown sandals. She arrived outside Sam’s flat and came to a halt. She fiddled with her charm bracelet, then rubbed her hands down her thighs. Part of her wanted to turn and run away, but she forced herself to step up to the door. When she was about to ring the buzzer to Sam’s apartment, her mobile rang.
“Hayley. It’s Sam. Are you at home? I want to come and see you.”
Hope sparked to life. “I’m downstairs, about to ring the buzzer to your apartment.”
“I’ll buzz you in now.” The strident sound made her smile. She pushed through the door, confidence fueling her now that she’d arrived, more so than during the journey from Fulham to Knightsbridge. The lift whooshed up to Sam’s apartment, and he stood there when the doors opened. He didn’t smile. Stillness throbbed around him while his dark eyes studied her, and gradually the expression coalesced into satisfaction. “You came.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t stay away. I…ah…needed to find out if you liked me in the same way.” There. She’d
said it aloud, even if it did remind her of school crushes. Liked? Shouldn’t she have said loved?
“Come inside.” He stretched out his hand to her, the gesture holding more than mere courtesy. The knowledge simmered through the air. In his face. And when his strong fingers closed around hers, it seemed as if she’d arrived home. An acknowledgement.
She’d been right to come.
Sam led her into his apartment and kicked the door shut behind them. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
They stared at each other until a smile crept across Sam’s face.
“Are we okay?” Hayley hoped they were, but wasn’t one hundred percent sure. “You believe me, trust me?”
“That you wouldn’t sell me out to the press. Yeah, we’re good. Once I’d considered what you said and remembered how you’d reacted with the reporters and photographers, I knew you hadn’t sold me out.” He drew her closer, his dark gaze a physical caress full of acceptance. Then his lips were on hers. Soft. Tentative. He lifted his head to cup her face in his hands. Their gazes met and Sam smiled.
“I love you, Hayley Jones. I’ve been fighting the need to say it for days.”
“But, Sam. We haven’t known each other for very long.” Her breathing hitched while she sought calm, the voice of reason.
“Compared to my parents and brother we’ve set a world record for taking our time.” He smoothed his hand over her hair and lifted her hand to his lips, his caress eliciting a shiver of pleasure. His touch washed through her and she basked under his intense scrutiny.
“What if there are more stories in the press?” Her brow wrinkled at the idea of more public attention.
“There will be,” Sam said, his smile smoothing out. “It’s part of the territory. But don’t worry.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her farther into the apartment. “We’ll try to manage future press coverage.”
Hayley’s heart started to pound. A future. Yes, he’d said he loved her, but a future? “Do we have a future? You indicated you didn’t want to commit to one woman.” She moved away from him, edgy and restless, unable to accept they might have a future because she wanted it so badly.
“I can’t imagine life without you, Hayley. What do you think?”
Hayley grinned. “I might be interested.”
He growled, a rattle deep in his throat, and advanced on her, intent written clearly on his face. “Might?”
A giggle erupted, and she backed up, only stopping when the wall at her back halted further retreat. She met his gaze, her heart melting. “Sam, I love you. I tried really hard not to because it made things complicated—with my lies—but you kept pushing your way into my thoughts.”
“Glad I did something right.” Sam wrapped his arms around her shoulders and, without warning, scooped her off her feet, cradling her in his arms. He carried her through the lounge and down the passage to his bedroom. He dropped her on his bed. “You’ll marry me.”
“Are you asking?”
“Yes.” He leaned over her to trail a line of kisses over her jaw, placing the final one near the corner of her mouth.
Hayley sighed and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. He overbalanced, falling on top of her. “Perfect,” she said.
“Will you marry me, Hayley?”
A slow smile spread across her mouth. “I’m probably unemployed as of today. I’m not sure yet because I rang in sick today.”
“It doesn’t matter. You fit into our conference program easily enough.”
“I’m a fake tea leaf reader.”
He smoothed a lock of hair off her face and smiled down at her. “That’s not what Suzie said. And don’t forget, I’ve visited your flat. You have a bookcase full of research books on the art of reading tea leaves.”
“That’s true,” she conceded, “but at the start I was merely someone to fill in when the real reader was sick.”
“Any more objections?”
Hayley’s brow wrinkled, but she silently laughed. “That’s all for the moment.”
“Good,” he said. “Agree to marry me and we can get to the good stuff.”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Definitely yes,” Hayley said. “I’ll marry you.”
Their lips met in a kiss of commitment, of promises for the future. The tender meeting of lips turned into more. Hot. Hungry. Desperate. Clothes melted away. Limbs brushed and bodies moved together.
Promises made. Promises given.
They gave and received pleasure until the fire between them burned out of control. Finally, they stilled, both breathing heavily.
Sam drew her close, smoothing his hand down her bare back. “I’m going to like being married to you.”
“You’re meant to love it,” she shot back with a wink.
“I will,” he promised. “From now on it will be tea for two, at least until we have children.”
“Tea for two, huh? I like it.” The delight faded from her face, and she stroked her fingers along his jaw, staring deep into his eyes. “I’d love to have kids, although not straight away, if that’s okay. I’d like to spend time alone with you first.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sam said. “All along I’ve rubbished the idea of love at first sight. My family is going to enjoy ribbing me, making me eat my words. You’ll have to help me suffer through the teasing.”
Hayley chuckled, loving the humor beneath the surface, the love for her blazing in his eyes. “It will be my pleasure.” And it would. With Sam at her side, she’d come a full circle, back to impulsive and spontaneous actions and fun. But most of all, she’d come to trust her gut instincts, and she’d found love. She couldn’t do much better than that.
Thank you for purchasing and downloading Reformed Bad Girl. If you enjoyed this book, please remember to take a second to leave a review. Let me know your favorite parts.
Have you read my other contemporary romances? Please turn the page to read an excerpt from Playing to Win, a contemporary suspense romance set in New Zealand. Keep up with new books in the series by joining my newsletter or visiting my website.
Happy reading!
Shelley xx
Excerpt – Playing to Win
“Do you have a picture of Nicole?” Lane asked. “I have no idea what she looks like. I should have asked before, but I wasn’t thinking too clearly. Maybe if I saw a photo, I would remember your sister.”
Kate leapt to her feet and hurried to her bedroom. “I don’t know why we didn’t think of it earlier,” she said as she returned to hand him a framed photo of her sister. “I hope that’s not the press again,” Kate said with a frown when the doorbell sounded.
“Do you want me to answer the door?”
Kate hesitated before heaving a resigned sigh. “No, I’ll go.”
When she reached the front door, she halted, took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. She opened the door. Her smile faded when she came face-to-face with two police officers. Alarm flared within her. The police did a wonderful job but personally, Kate could do without them arriving at her front door. They brought bad news. She gulped and took another deep, fortifying breath.
“Is something wrong?” she asked. “Jamie, my son?”
They both flipped identification at Kate. “Are you the owner of this property?”
Kate scanned the IDs without really seeing them and slowly lifted her gaze back to their faces. What else could go wrong today? “Yes. How can I help you?”
One of the police officers took a small notebook from his pocket. “What is your name please?”
“Katherine Alexander. Is something wrong?”
The two officers exchanged a guarded look. “Do you own any garden gnomes, Mrs. Alexander?”
“It’s Miss.”
“Miss Alexander, do you own garden gnomes?” he asked his question patiently.
“Gnomes?” Kate stared, waiting for the punch line.
“Yes, gnomes,” one officer repeated, his li
ps twitching in what looked like the beginnings of a grin.
“No.” Kate shook her head. Personally, she thought they were ugly.
An elderly woman marched around the corner of Kate’s house. Tall and lean, the woman’s dress hung on her body like clothes on a hanger. Straight up and down. A coat hanger with a temper, Kate amended when she took in the woman’s pinched lips.
“No doubt about it!” The woman’s voice sounded as sharp as her angles. “They’re mine! The person on the telephone told me they were my gnomes, that she’d stolen them.” She folded her arms across her scrawny chest and gave a defiant nod. “I want them back. Gnome-napper!”
“Mrs. Jaffe, please go home and leave this to us. If they’re your gnomes, we will return them to you as soon as possible.”
“Can’t they come home with me now?” the woman snapped, shooting an evil glare in Kate’s direction. “They don’t like this environment. All the goings-on here I’ve read about in the newspaper. It’s enough to put any self-respecting person to shame.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Jaffe. We need to complete our paperwork first, then we will return them,” one of the policemen said.
“They might need to interview the gnomes,” Kate muttered under her breath. “To get all the juicy gossip firsthand.”
The officer standing closest to Kate made a choked sound and coughed behind his hand.
Mrs. Jaffe turned her wrath on him. “I want her prosecuted. Can’t just go and steal a person’s gnomes. Sentimental value. I can’t afford to pay for their removal home.” She stabbed one thin finger toward Kate. “She can pay.”
“Mrs. Jaffe,” the older policeman cautioned.
“I’m going,” the woman barked. “But I expect action. If I don’t have action I’ll…I’ll report this to the Holmes show. He’ll take my part.” She stalked off, mumbling about thieves and the shameful carrying on of people who should know better, pausing at the end of the driveway to cast a malignant glare at Kate from over one bony shoulder.
Kate shuddered under the evil stare. She hoped the woman wasn’t serious about contacting Holmes. There was no way she wanted to appear on the local current affairs show. So many New Zealanders watched Holmes each night, she’d never live it down.
Reformed Bad Girl Page 15
