by Jane Linfoot
‘As if.’ A disparaging snarl shot through his scowl. ‘She was at Oxford, then when I was two she went to America on a uni exchange, and she stayed out there, pursuing a glittering academic career. Thirty odd years on, she’s approximately two steps away from running the world, not that I’d know particularly, because we’re what’s technically known as estranged.’
‘You sound cynical.’ Putting it mildly.
‘Nope, it was her life, she made her choices. It’s nothing to me.’ Tipping back in his chair now, he fixed her with a stare bleak enough to chill her blood.
Somehow she couldn’t believe they had no relationship at all. ‘And you don’t ever catch up now?’
‘You are joking? Why might I want to do that? I only have contempt for someone who dumped me and ran.’
Any hope in Millie’s voice leached away. ‘You sound as if you hate her?’
‘I wouldn’t give anyone so low-grade the benefit of such strong emotion.’
‘Aren’t you judging too harshly?’ She studied him, working out exactly how far she could go here, knowing her chin was jutting too defiantly. ‘From where I stand, your mother made a damned brave choice when she opted to have you. I mean, having a baby at seventeen must have taken guts.’
The dark rims of his eyelids flashed as he rounded on her. ‘So what do you know?’
She dragged in a breath. No way could she let him know the truth. That she knew exactly what his mother had gone through.
‘Not much.’ Up to her neck, sinking fast, but still fighting, knowing she had to say her piece. ‘Enough to know that having a child isn’t an easy option, nor is giving it up. It probably ripped her heart out.’
His hollow sneer bounced off the empty plates. ‘Don’t tell me, that’s why she threw herself into her work?’
‘However much you trust the people you left the child with, I’m guessing you’d have to block out the pain somehow.’
‘How come you’re suddenly the expert?’ He rounded on her accusingly.
Oh hell, damage limitation needed, urgently. She so shouldn’t have gone here. What the heck had made her wade in, and end up drowning in trouble? Why had she opened herself up for this?
‘Believe me, I’m simply talking as an outsider, offering a fresh view, a woman’s perspective.’ Locking eyes with him, to be sure she’d made her position clear, she guessed he’d bought it. ‘But did you ever talk to her about it?’
‘She was never around to ask.’
She’d take that as a no then. How the hell had they got here? Blowing out a long sigh, Millie pushed her hair up off her forehead, trying hard to hide the OMG moment she was having, behind her hand. Here was one guy about thirty odd years old, terrified of commitment, still raw as red meat because his mother left him. It didn’t take a genius to make the connection.
‘Well if you do ever get around to asking her, you may find you get a new insight.’ Enough said. Time to run. She pushed back her chair and stood up. ‘But right now, I’m going to clear theses plates.’
***
Millie, face down on a sun lounger by the pool later that afternoon, wriggled to pull the sweat dampened vest away from her itching back, and focused on the cola-stained ice cubes melting in the glass beside her. If she screwed up her eyes, she could make out Ed on the next lounger, face like a thunder cloud, head bent over his laptop. Might as well have had KEEP OUT tattooed on his forehead.
So much for a fun weekend.
That promise had gone downhill at break-neck speed and disappeared from view. At least when he was wrapped in his high-security barrier of fierce concentration, there was less danger of temptation. Because earlier, somewhere amongst him sweeping the strawberry leaves off the worktop with those broad, strong hands of his, crashing at the sink as he rinsed out the wine bottle, and tossing the dirty plates into the dishwasher, her insides had started to melt, despite all efforts to keep her libido firmly in the ice age. By the time they came outside, she was fighting a full-scale desire inferno, which she could only put down to the white wine at lunch. And possibly the light-shaft glimpse of raw, vulnerable man. Who’d have thought that one tiny crack in that rough, tough exterior could be so impossibly sexy? The thought of it made her heart squish, and beat in the weirdest kind of way.
Sexy? Impossibly sexy?
She needed to get a grip. Torched by the guy she was determined to keep at arm’s length was no way a good look, especially when he’d given her every reason to despise him. And darn that she’d thought to bring every item of clothing except a bikini! She gave her vest another tug, to be sure it was covering her lacey shorts, and brushed a trickle of sweat out of her eye. Where the hell had this sudden modesty come from? Deep down she knew covering up was the only way for her to be when confronted with his burning sexuality. What happened to the easy, confident woman, who taught her pupils to work what they had to the max, the one who, in her other life might have been strolling up and down the poolside, in control, working her moves just for herself? That girl had shrunk away, hiding in the face of the physical attraction onslaught that was Ed Mitchum, because when there was a detonator like him in the midst, her survival instinct had kicked in. She knew she’d be safer dressed in a nun’s habit, and trussed in a chastity belt with a hundred locks. When Ed was around there was no need to work anything. Her body was doing that, and spontaneously combusting all by itself.
And swimming was the last thing she’d planned on doing in a vest, but maybe she was going to have to make a dash for the water after all. It was either that or expire.
‘Think I may just have a dip.’ Easing to sitting, her brain momentarily dizzied by the heat, distantly aware of Ed easing upright, laptop forgotten, every atom of his concentration locked on to her now. The stones hot under her feet as she tiptoed, and folded onto the pool edge, trying to ignore the way his gaze set her already burning skin on fire. Trailing a finger into the water, daring to turn half an eye towards him, knowing she needed to keep him in her sights, like a watchful cat asleep with one eye open, just in case.
Just in case what?
That slip of a smile that left all on its own before she could put the brakes on it, colliding with Ed. Then the slightest twitch of his lips, the infinitesimal creasing at the corners of his eyes that sent her stomach plummeting to the pool bottom. No choice but to follow it. She slid off the poolside, and let the silky depths engulf her, scraping the water out of her eyes as she surfaced.
‘Deliciously cool.’ Pushing back her dripping hair strands, finding her gaze dragged inextricably towards him. And damn to the way the chill of the water had failed to lower her lust temperature.
‘Maybe I’ll join you.’ He eased forward lazily.
Oh no! That had to be the last thing she wanted! ‘Aren’t you working?’
‘Slight problem, given that something appears to be ejecting my laptop’ He shot her a smoldering grin, and in one swoop his laptop was on the floor and he’d sprung into a horizontal dive, and hit the water. And he was heading straight for her.
‘Whoa!’ She backed away from the splash, instinctively trying to save herself. Damn. Too little, too late. She gasped as his body crashed into hers. Another second, and he captured her mouth with the force of a tidal wave, kissing her, full and rough and hard, snatching away her breath and her resistance in one easy move. As her legs gave way, she dissolved against the slick muscular planes of his body, watching the azure flashes of the pool, blurry through half closed eyes. Pulling her vision into focus, the close-up view of his eyelashes, clumped and wet, sent her banging heart into overdrive, and filled her body with a new, and urgent strength. Now, when his erection drove into her belly, she forged against it, carried along by the desperate ache that pulsed through her core, and pooled like burning fudge between her legs.
She really shouldn’t be.
Mumbling through the kiss. ‘I really shouldn’t be … ’
‘What?’ His voice husky against her face as he broke away.
> ‘This … ’
‘We both know you want to … ’ And then he was kissing her again, but harder, his hands slipping around her waist, guiding and lifting, as, buoyed by the water, she rose, and wrapped her thighs tight around his waist, flattening the heat of her need against the thrust of his stomach. Her insides turning to molten gold as he drew back her shorts and slicked a finger deep inside her.
‘Oh!’
And then another.
‘Oh, yes!’ Locking her ankles tighter as she writhed on his hand, her own mews echoed by the deep growls that caught in his throat, as his erection drilled against her ass.
This was so not in the plan for this afternoon. So not in the plan ever again. Her eyes wide open now, and not seeing a thing. But knowing that the delicious blunt tip of him was nudging, pushing, finding a way, and she was dizzyingly, amazingly ready to take the whole driving length of him.
‘No, we need … ’ How had they got this far without protection?
‘Yes … ’ His affirmation was more of a groan.
And he wasn’t even listening. ‘Ed! What about a condom?’
One abrupt jive, and he’d pulled away. ‘Damn, sorry! I’ll sort it.’ Then he was out, drenching the poolside, hurrying towards the cottage, hopping as his bare feet hit the gravel path, and she was left, head spinning, gasping for breath.
Oh my! Okay. Try to focus on the wiggly lines of the mosaic tiles through the water. Try to stop your heart banging like a wave machine, get your butt into gear, and get yourself out of this one! Because more sex with Ed was such a bad idea. Always had been. Getting out of the water had to be a step in the right direction. And kicking herself, hard, for what just happened may be no bad idea either.
By the time Ed skidded back onto the pool terrace, she was swathed in a towel, leaning forwards, patting her hair dry, and working on a tangle.
‘What the..? I thought we..?’ His brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed.
‘I’m sorry, I got carried away back there.’ Breathlessly, she fought to keep her voice even and tried to avoid his gaze, as his expression morphed from incomprehension, to disbelief. ‘It’s better if we don’t.’
Not wanting to be mean, not meaning to mess anyone around, but it was a matter of self preservation. When he touched her she lost all sense of control, all sense of everything. Not a good place to be.
‘Better for who exactly?’ His sniff of disgust could have come from a raging bull.
At least he was easier to resist when he was fuming. But then he reached out, grasped her arm raggedly, screwed his head round to fix her with a penetrating stare, and a giveaway shiver zipped up her spine. And down again. Damn her treacherous body! Damn the way the smallest touch of his hand had her in pieces. Filling her lungs with oxygen, she tried to be honest.
‘Like I said this morning … ’ And how long ago that seemed. ‘I just can’t handle it.’
If she stuck her chin in the air, he’d know she meant it, though judging by the stormy darkening of his eyes, he’d already got the message loud and clear. She just wished her own body would accept her final word on it too.
‘And as I said this morning, it’s your loss.’ He spoke with a curl of his lip, as he let her wrist drop, his chocolate voice strangely harsh and flinty ‘but if my plans for this evening are out the window that leaves us free to attend the Reception at the Chateau. My mother will be delighted. I hear you two have already met, by the way.’
‘Er … ’ Oh, shucks! Opening and closing her mouth like an idiot. Not attractive. She shrunk under his accusing stare. What the heck happened to easy-going Ed?
‘An evening in my mother’s company or a pleasure max? I know which I’d choose.’ He gave a derisory sneer.
‘A Reception sounds great, thanks.’
People. Company. Safety. All good. At this moment a trip to the gallows would have sounded less dangerous than a pleasure max with Ed.
‘Have it your own way, as usual.’ He gave a hollow laugh, as he slung a towel around his waist, swiped his wet hair off his forehead with his wrist, grabbed his laptop and backed away across the terrace. ‘I’ll leave you to it then! Be ready for seven. And I may as well warn you, my mother is very exacting!’
***
Ed grimaced at his reflection in the hall mirror, gave his tie a final yank into position, and blocked the iron hand of dread that closed around his entrails. Tonight had barely started, but it was already looking like a very bad idea. He snorted as he took in the unfamiliar dark hollows under his eyes, snorted again as he remembered the reason for them.
One weekend with Millie, not yet done, and already it was a train-wreck.
Which only went to prove how right he’d been all along. If this challenge had taught him one thing it was that his women-at-a-distance approach was the only way for him to be. Ed Mitchum, with a woman at close quarters, equaled one short cut to disaster. Look at him now. Haggard, bad tempered, frustrated as hell, beyond ready to explode. This afternoon he’d almost had sex without protection, which for a guy like him was tantamount to financial suicide, given the paternity suits that could ensue. What had he been thinking? What’s more, thanks to Millie and her damned probing, he’d spilled his guts about his adoption, and opened yet another festering can of worms. Sure he thrived on competition, yes, he was driven to succeed, but could he justify putting himself through mayhem like this simply to win some stupid challenge? Right now he’d happily throw a street of houses in Edinburgh at Will and Cassie if it meant getting out of it.
Somewhere along the line, he wasn’t quite sure where, Millie had tipped his life upside down. And her whisking away any sexual enjoyment he may have wrung out of the situation by way of compensation, was the final wave of the finger from her. So tonight was set to stir things on a lot of levels.
He always failed to please his mother. It was worth breaking his lifelong refusal to appear with a plus one, if only to see the look on his mother’s face when he walked in with someone as unsuitable as Millie. Millie’s Cinderella look was guaranteed to throw his mother into a blue fit. Perfect payback for her planning to marry him off.
As for Millie, dropping a woman like her into one of his mother’s soirees had to be like throwing her to the wolves. To hell with it, he thought, as he felt one more knot add itself to his already twisted gut. Millie’s had every opportunity to choose a much better option for both of them, but she’d refused.
‘Hey, someone scrubs up well.’
Her voice lilting down the hall, and the click-clack of heels, caught him off guard.
Damn. Ten minutes early too. Bracing himself for another shredded outfit, he spun to face her.
‘Wow!’ Picking his jaw off the floor would be an understatement. For a second the power of further speech was whooshed away.
‘What? I don’t look that bad do I?’ She hesitated, stopping a few feet away, yet close enough for her delicious warm scent to reach him.
He dragged in a breath of her. Something about the dismayed furrows crinkling her brow sent his stomach into free-fall. Compliments needed, and urgently.
‘Bad? No, absolutely not. Different … ’ Struggling, he shot her a grin he hoped would take her mind off his gawping, as he drank in the way her streamlined dress clung in all the right places. ‘Stunning, amazing … ’
Heart stoppingly so. Knowing whatever he said no way covered the perfection of those vertiginous heels accentuating the curves of her calves, or the way her hair, swept upwards, caught in a series of waves, not a hay-wisp in sight, revealed the aching vulnerability of her neck. How the immediate urge to sink his teeth into the pale skin at the base of her collarbone was almost overpowering. He cleared his throat, caught the mocking grin that was scything his way.
‘No need to look quite so gob-smacked. I can do smart when it’s called for, I’ve got a French grandmother, remember?’ She pushed an escaping strand of fringe out of her eye. ‘She taught me never to travel without a little black dress. This might only be a
lycra version but it does the trick. And my whale-net tights mean I don’t completely bow to convention.’
‘Whale net? So that would be fishnet on a grand scale?’ And a thousand times more sexy by the looks of it. His grin of appreciation had escaped before he could stop it. ‘And so pleased you’re holding out to be different.’ Not that he could imagine she would ever conform.
‘So shall we going then?’ She was already past him, one hand on the door handle.
‘If you’re sure you’re ready. There’s still time to change your mind — opt for the alternative?’ Raising an eyebrow, knowing he was on a loser here, but not able to resist the tease.
‘Nice try. You already know the answer to that.’ She rolled her eyes. Was that a smile she was stifling? ‘You look pretty awesome yourself, by the way, for someone who spends so much time in a quarry, and dates according to The Big Bang Theory.’
‘Meaning?’
‘One explosion and you move onto the next woman. Fitting somehow, given your occupation.’
Without waiting for a retort, she was off across the courtyard, hips swaying delectably with every long, determined stride. Awesome! He paused momentarily to take in the view, but at the rate she was going, if he didn’t get moving she’d soon be a speck on the horizon. Tackling her about her Big Bang jibe would have to wait.
‘Hang on speedy! There’s no rush!’ His arm inadvertently brushing against her as he arrived at her side, was answered with a jerk as she jolted away.
What the..?
‘We might as well get there, no point hanging round, and I’m perfectly capable of walking in heels without help, thanks all the same.’ She shot him a withering scowl.
‘Whatever.’ He stepped away, biting back a smile as he noted the no-go zone clearly delineated by her rigid sticky-out arms. ‘Walking at the required distance here?’
She answered that with a silent sneer that merged into another eye roll.
Point taken, but no way was she going to be able to stand unaided in those heels at the Chateau entrance. He held in his amusement, counting down as they made their way alongside the monumental walls, her heels clacking with every stomping step, round the last corner and, Bingo! – the fine gravel path gave way to a sea of polished cobbles, and she was left teetering at the shore edge, arms flapping as she struggled to balance.
