Husband for Real

by Catherine George

  James wagged a finger at her. ‘Then don’t drink it, for Pete’s sake. Go for mineral water or fruit juice.’

  ‘It seems so childish!’

  He smiled as he made the tea. ‘What does that matter, Rose? Be yourself. And remember,’ he added, ‘it’s a great advantage for a girl with your looks to keep a clear head when the men you’re with are drinking.’

  ‘True,’ she conceded, elated by the casual compliment, ‘but the ones I know best are a fairly temperate bunch—most of them too broke to drink all that much, anyway.’

  ‘But there’s a Valentine dance in the union shortly. If you’re going, take care. It’s been a pretty rowdy occasion in the past,’ he warned, and handed her a mug of tea. ‘You haven’t finished your sandwich.’

  ‘Give me time.’

  James sat down beside her, patting her knee. ‘Are we friends again, then?’

  ‘Of course we are,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Can’t alienate my coach!’

  He eyed her askance. ‘Is that how you think of me?’

  ‘Not entirely.’ Rose munched deliberately for a while before giving him a demure little smile. ‘You’ve been so kind to me I suppose I look on you as a sort of older brother.’

  James spluttered violently, spilled some scalding tea in his lap and leapt up with a howl.

  Rose jumped up to dab him down with Mrs Bradley’s linen napkin, but with a choked sound he thrust her hands away and raced from the room. She stared after him blankly, then sat down again to drink tea until James came back, wearing battered old cords.

  Rose eyed him warily. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes. My jeans suffered the most—I’d just washed the damn things, too.’ He sat down again, arms folded, his straight black brows drawn together in a heavy frown. After a while he turned towards her, and took her hand. ‘Look, Rose, I think we’d better have a little talk.’

  She stiffened. Had he got wind of the plan somehow? ‘What about?’

  To her surprise he shifted uneasily, his eyes glued to their clasped hands. ‘Look, from what you told me I take it there hasn’t been much of a male presence in your life, right?’

  Rose relaxed a little. ‘Right.’

  ‘This aunt you live with, does she have any male friends?’

  ‘Yes, several,’ she said, surprised. ‘Minerva goes out quite a lot. Dinner, concerts, that kind of thing.’

  ‘But I assume you went to a girls’ school?’ he went on doggedly.

  ‘Yes, I did. What is this?’

  ‘Bear with me. Did you know any boys?’

  ‘Of course I did. Blokes from the neighboring school. One of them was even my boyfriend at one time—brother of my best friend, Bel.’

  He relaxed a little. ‘Nice lad?’

  ‘Mark’s very nice indeed.’ Rose turned dancing eyes on him. ‘James, I do know about the birds and the bees, if that’s where this is leading.’

  ‘I’m sure you do. But in my opinion you need a bit of advice from the male point of view.’ He cleared his throat, still staring down at their hands. ‘Rose, are you a virgin?’

  She tore her hand away and jumped up, her eyes blazing. ‘What business is that of yours?’

  James leapt to bar her way to the door.

  ‘Out of my way!’ she ordered furiously. ‘I’m going.’

  ‘Calm down, Rose. Let me explain. I can’t help worrying about you.’

  ‘Well, you needn’t,’ she snapped. ‘I can take care of myself.’

  He thrust his hands through his mop of dark hair. ‘Hell, this is embarrassing. Listen! Why do you think I rushed out of the room just now?’

  Rose simmered down a little. ‘Because you spilt your tea, of course.’

  James smiled ruefully. ‘That was part of it. But the main reason was my—er, response when you touched me in that particular danger zone. You just can’t do that kind of thing. Oh, God, now you’ve gone red again. Does it help that I’m hot under the collar, too?’

  Rose didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So she laughed. And James laughed with her, relieved, and caught her in a hug.

  ‘Promise me you won’t do that with anyone else!’ he ordered.

  That was an easy one.

  ‘I promise.’ She gasped, her eyes dancing as they met his. ‘And just so you won’t stay awake all night wondering, I am.’

  ‘You’re what?’ he said huskily.

  ‘What you said.’

  Suddenly neither of them was laughing any more. Rose tensed as she saw the grey eyes narrow to a gleam which rang alarm bells in her head. But she couldn’t have moved to save her life. Time seemed to stop as James slowly bent his head to hers. When he kissed her at last the touch of his lips on hers was gentle enough, but it triggered a response that swept through them both like a bush fire. He pulled her close and kissed her again, no longer gentle, and she leaned into him, her lips parting in welcome to his tongue, and instantly both of them were breathing harder than at any time on the track. James picked her up and sat down with her on his lap, his mouth moving over her face, feature by feature, as he undid the scarf to run his hands through her hair.

  ‘This wasn’t supposed to happen,’ he whispered.

  ‘I know,’ she said breathlessly. ‘You’ve got no time for girls.’

  ‘Other girls,’ he corrected, and kissed her with renewed heat.

  Rose, in seventh heaven, thrust guilt from her mind and gave herself up to the utter joy of James’s lips on hers and his body hard and hot against her own as he fought to restrict himself to kisses. She realised, deeply touched, that he was gripping her waist tight to prevent his hands moving higher, and returned his kisses with such wanton fervour by way of appreciation he broke away at last and sat with his head in his hands, breathing raggedly.

  ‘I swear I didn’t bring you here for this,’ he said hoarsely.

  Rose, speechless for a variety of reasons, put out a hand to touch his. He seized it without looking at her.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked eventually.

  ‘Yes,’ she managed.

  James turned with a questioning look which made Rose conscious of hair all over the place and a mouth that felt swollen. ‘Has that happened before to you?’ he asked harshly.

  She pretended to misunderstand. ‘I’ve been kissed enough. But never like that.’

  ‘What was it like?’ He eyed her challengingly. ‘Do you still think of me as a brother?’

  He needed to ask? Rose gave him a crooked little smile. ‘I just felt as though I’d die if you stopped kissing me.’

  His eyes shut in such obvious anguish she put up a hand in alarm.

  ‘Hey—don’t worry, James. It was just a few kisses. If that’s a problem for you just drive me back and I’ll forget they ever happened.’

  He raised a dark, disbelieving eyebrow. ‘Can you do that?’

  ‘If I have to.’

  ‘Like hell you will!’ He yanked her onto his lap and began to kiss her again, pushed her sweater aside to kiss her neck: swift, travelling kisses that set her heart hammering as he slid his hands beneath the heavy white wool to cup her breasts. Rose gasped as he laid them bare and caressed nipples which hardened at their first contact with a man’s experienced, coaxing fingers. Streaks of fire shot through her, and she thrust herself against him, locking her hands behind his neck as she gave him back kiss for open-mouthed kiss, until at last it was she who pulled away, and he buried his face in her hair and held her close.

  ‘This is all wrong,’ he groaned. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this.’

  Rose stroked his hair. ‘It was just a kiss or two, James.’

  ‘But I wanted—still want—a lot more than that.’

  ‘So do I.’

  He sat up abruptly, his face stern. ‘Don’t say things like that, Rose.’

  She met his eyes head-on. ‘I’m just making it clear I’m as much to blame as you.’

  ‘If I hadn’t started it would you have kissed me?’

  ‘No way
!’ Rose smiled crookedly. ‘I didn’t think you—well—thought of me that way.’

  ‘I didn’t think I did, either.’ James shook his head slowly. ‘It’s Greg’s fault.’

  ‘Your friend at the track?’

  ‘Yes. When he offered to carry you back this morning I could have thumped him. I almost told him to take his hands off—because you belonged to me.’ He smiled a little. ‘You can laugh if you like.’

  Rose shook her head, a dazed look in her eyes. She slid off his lap and stood up, at a loss how to respond to his mind-blowing revelation. ‘It’s getting late. I should go.’

  James eyed her moodily as he got up. ‘You won’t be able to run with that foot for a day or two.’

  ‘No.’ Rose began tying back her hair to hide her desolation.

  ‘What do you usually do in the evenings?’

  ‘Go for a drink in the union, or see a film. Con’s got a VCR so sometimes we rent a video instead.’ Rose gave him a wry little smile. ‘And sometimes, believe it or not, I just stay in my room and work.’

  He smoothed a stray lock of hair back from her forehead, his smile so openly possessive her pulse-rate rocketed. ‘So you’re not here just to have a good time like some of the others. What do you have in mind to do when you—?’

  ‘Grow up?’ said Rose tartly.

  ‘I was going to say qualify, Miss Dryden,’ he contradicted, in such ultra refined Morningside accents Rose giggled.

  ‘Miss Jean Brodie to the life.’

  ‘Doubting my sexual preferences again?’ he growled, and pulled her into his arms. ‘I thought I’d convinced you.’

  ‘Convince me again!’ she whispered, and he let out an explosive breath and kissed her so fiercely the difference in their height almost overbalanced them.

  ‘I was wrong,’ James groaned at last. ‘You’re very definitely a girl, complete with a full set of everything to drive a man crazy. And now it is time you went.’ He thrust her away. ‘Go and tidy up in the bathroom. Mrs Bradley will probably want to say goodnight.’

  On the short journey back to the flat both of them discussed the film with determination, doing their best to behave as though their passionate exchange had never happened, and when James parked at the entrance to the building Rose said goodnight, shot out of the car and ran up the stairs as fast as her sore foot allowed.

  ‘You’re late,’ said Con, looking worried.

  Fabia pulled Rose into their room, her eyes sparkling. ‘How was it? Did he hold your hand in the dark? Did he kiss you goodnight this time?’

  ‘For heaven’s sake,’ said Rose, laughing. ‘I don’t ask what you’re up to when you’re out with Will.’

  ‘Just as well!’ Con rolled her eyes, then smiled affectionately. ‘You obviously had a great time.’

  Rose nodded blissfully. ‘We went back to his place. His landlady’s nice. She had things ready for us to make sandwiches.’

  Fabia pounced. ‘Where did you eat them?’

  ‘In his room again.’

  ‘Are we talking bedroom, here?’

  ‘No. It’s just a sitting room. He must sleep somewhere else.’ Rose yawned. ‘Now, if it’s all right by you, I’d like to go to bed and get off this foot.’

  ‘Is it still sore?’ demanded Con. ‘Sit down and show me.’

  Rose obediently removed sock and shoe and tore off the dressing, wiggling her foot at the others.

  ‘Seems all right,’ said Fabia. ‘A bit red and tender-looking, though. I’ll slosh on some antiseptic and stick another plaster on for you.’

  ‘You definitely can’t go running again for a bit,’ said Con regretfully. ‘Has Sinclair said anything about another meeting?’

  ‘No.’ Rose looked guilty. ‘I got out of the car in a rush so he wouldn’t think I was hinting at one.’

  The phone saved her from a storm of scolding from her friends.

  ‘Yes, she’s here,’ said Con, eyes sparkling. ‘Hang on a second.’

  She tossed the receiver to Rose, hauled Fabia bodily out of the room and shut the door.

  ‘Why the blazes did you chase off so fast, Rose?’ Demanded James irately. ‘You didn’t even give me a chance to kiss you goodnight.’

  Rose said nothing.

  James waited, then sighed in exasperation. ‘It’s like getting blood out of stone.’ He paused. ‘I suppose I frightened you silly.’

  Was he serious?

  ‘No,’ Rose assured him.

  ‘So if I promise to stay at arm’s length you’ll come out with me again?’

  To the ends of the earth, if he liked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is there someone else in the room?’ he demanded.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then talk to me, Rose.’

  ‘What do you want me to say?’

  ‘That you enjoyed our evening as much as I did.’

  ‘You know very well that I did. Every single minute of it,’ she added fiercely, in case he was in any doubt.

  ‘That’s better,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘So listen. Tomorrow I train with the team, but how about the next night?’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘What would you like to do?’

  ‘Would Mrs Bradley object if I just came round to your place for an hour?’ And if he took it for granted she wanted him to make love to her again she didn’t care. It was the truth.

  ‘Mrs Bradley thought you were a very charming young lady,’ he said, in refined Edinburgh accents again, and Rose giggled. ‘I’m in full agreement,’ he added, his voice deepening. ‘I’ll come for you at seven.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

  ‘So will I,’ he agreed, with a note in his voice that brought the colour rushing to her cheeks. ‘Goodnight, Rose.’

  Restless at the memory, Rose got out of bed and went to the kitchen to make more tea. How naive she’d been all those years ago. Young and so trusting she’d been caught in her own snare. With not the slightest hope of success to start with she’d deliberately set out to make James Sinclair fall in love with her, and succeeded beyond her wildest expectations. But in the process she’d fallen helplessly in love in return. Which had been inevitable. If she hadn’t had a secret crush on the legendary Sinclair from the start nothing would have induced her to fall in with Con’s plan. But that, in common with many other aspects of her love affair, was a secret she’d never shared with anyone. Not even with James.

  From the first Rose was obdurate about going out in public with James. Their morning runs and the brief hours spent in his room were the only meetings she would agree to, even repeat trips to the cinema were vetoed in case they were less lucky than the first time, and met someone they knew.

  ‘Why are you so dead set against being seen with me?’ he demanded irritably.

  ‘Because you’re Sinclair, famous for not socialising with girls. And I’m a lowly first-year. So all your friends—not to mention mine—would be watching every move, tongues hanging out, if they saw us out together.’ Rose touched his cheek with a placating hand. ‘I just can’t bear the idea of everyone speculating about us, spoiling things. Making more of our—our friendship than it is.’

  ‘Friendship,’ he growled, and pulled her onto his lap. ‘Is this how you behave with all your friends, Miss Dryden?’ He kissed her hungrily, his hands busy with her shirt buttons, and Rose moaned as his fingers found her nipples, her response arching her back. James bent his head to take instant advantage, his grazing teeth and clever fingers causing pleasure so intense she could hardly endure it.

  Because this was the night Mrs Bradley went to her bridge club they had the house to themselves, a fact Rose was burningly aware of as James made love to her with mounting demand. They had cooked supper together in the kitchen and eaten it there for once, but, sitting knee to knee at the table, the tension between them had increased steadily throughout the meal until by the time they’d reached the privacy of his room they had fallen on each other the moment they were through the door. Kisses a
nd increasingly intimate caresses were the extent of their mutual exploration of each other. So far. But by this time Rose was so madly in love she knew that if James wanted more she would give him everything he wanted. Because she wanted it too. So much it kept her awake at night.

  After a while James thrust her from him and retreated to the far corner of the sofa, breathing raggedly. ‘This is dangerous,’ he said hoarsely.

  Rose turned her head away, letting her streaming hair hide her face from him. ‘Why?’

  ‘You know very well why.’

  ‘Are you saying I’m a tease?’

  ‘No. But I’m not made of stone. So we can’t see each other alone like this any more or the inevitable will happen.’ He slanted a half-veiled glance at her. ‘I suppose there’s no chance of your turning up at the Sceptre on Saturday after the away match?’

  Rose shuddered. ‘No fear.’

  James got up to tower over her, his eyes slitted. ‘Why not?’

  Rose shook her hair back, turning her face up to him in appeal. ‘I keep telling you why not. I’d rather people didn’t know we’re seeing each other.’

  ‘Is that what we’re doing?’

  She flushed. ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Which just about sums it up.’ He glared at her. ‘I would be only too happy to be seen out with you. While you can’t stand the thought of it, which does damn all for my self-esteem, lady. I suppose if you lived in actual hall, instead of the flat, I wouldn’t even be allowed to pick you up and take you home.’

  ‘No,’ she admitted miserably.

  ‘In that case what the hell’s the point of it all?’ He scowled. ‘I refuse to be the skeleton in your cupboard, Rose Dryden. So it’s ultimatum time. Come and join me at the Sceptre on Saturday, in front of your friends and mine. Or we pack it in—stop seeing each other altogether.’

  Rose gazed at him, stricken. Then she got up and took her coat from the back of a chair. ‘I just want to stay as we are,’ she said miserably, hoping he’d sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

  But James did nothing of the kind. His face set in grim lines she’d never seen before, he preceded her down the stairs and took his car keys from the hall table. He opened the front door, and ushered her through it in a hostile silence he kept up all the way back to the flat. When he stopped the car outside her entrance Rose unfastened her seat belt, purposely taking time over it for once to give him a chance to thaw.