Truthfully, Spook Mortensen was a mystery, but he was one waiting to be unravelled. Already she’d peeled away layers just over the last few days. She could make him happy. They could make one another happy, she was certain of it. If only no one interfered.
Marshall had practically admitted that was his intention.
She shook her head unhappily as she fled the glitz and glamour and went out onto the street in search of a cab. No one photographed her. No one stopped or even slowed her departure. Away from the phenomenon that was Black Halo, she was simply an average girl in an overly expensive dress. One, if she was honest, she was desperate to shed.
“…anything but saintly. There’s more than one girl who’s regretted her involvement with him.”
Marshall’s words echoed in her head. It was a strange remark to fling at her. Didn’t every girl regret their past relationships at least part of the time? Spook had probably been no better or worse a boyfriend than any other guy, and they had to be talking about events from a decade ago.
She supposed there may have been something more recent. Maybe that was the issue. These associations hadn’t genuinely existed at all. Rather, like her, a girl or two had pursued him and got brushed off. That sort of let-down tended to result in catty remarks. She’d certainly cursed him to hell and back after the first time they’d hooked up and he hadn’t called. Not calling didn’t make one evil though. Cowardly, perhaps. But not a monster.
Alle knew Spook sometimes saw himself that way. She’d slept next to him two nights in a row, and he talked in his sleep. It worried her more that Marshall would dig into Spook’s past just for a story and to be a dick, than what he would uncover. She was certain that whatever it was that had convinced Spook to embrace celibacy would be something deeply personal, and not the sort of thing you’d want printed in a tawdry rag..
Dammit, things were going so well. She only really had another twelve hours she could stay here with him before her career called her back to the UK and a box-like studio. She’d hoped to spend that time enjoying one another’s company. Maybe convince him to join her in her hometown for a while before he took off to see his family. They had the future to talk about too – what was and wasn’t possible. She wanted to see what they could become. Spook was already so important to her.
For sure, some would put all her wants down to plain, old-fashioned lust, but it was more than that. There was something about Spook Mortensen that pulled at her in a way she’d never felt about anyone else. It wasn’t because he was in a band, or that he was breathtakingly beautiful, or even that he’d spanked her in the way she’d always desired for someone to do. It was deeper than that. A connection on a spiritual level. What’s more, she knew he felt it too. He fought it harder than she did, but it existed. It was real. If that hadn’t been so, then the last few days would never have happened. He’d never have trusted her to get as close to him as she had. They’d more or less gone all the way. He’d even spelled out that given time that physical connection would happen.
“I can’t lose you, Spook.” She mouthed to the world rolling by outside the taxi window. “Please don’t hold my brother against me.”
-28-
Xane was off talking to one of the Casiraghis. Spook couldn’t recall which, only that Xane had introduced them sometime in the past. In any case, he wasn’t interested in Monaco’s politics or their royalty. If asked, Xane would claim the same, but the truth was that his band mate had never quite shaken off his Bletchley heritage. Xane’s father had been stationed as a diplomat in Monaco for years, and his family was fondly remembered all along the Riviera.
When Luthor then left him to track down Dani, Spook decided it might be an idea to find out where Allegra had got to. He wasn’t entirely sure when she’d slipped away from him. Sometime between the second and third drink, when they’d been talking shop to a bigwig director and a couple of his producers over from Hollywood. Xane had been floating the idea of the guy filming their next music vid. Spook doubted it’d come to anything, but it’d been fun speculating.
He did a three-sixty turn, which gained him nothing. Who’d have thought it’d be so hard to spot a jaw-dropping red-head in a silver dress? But the room was ram packed. No one seemed to be in any hurry to leave, at least not while there was still free booze circulating. At least she was tall, so there was some hope of spotting her. Luthor would have a much harder time spying Dani.
Finally, a glimpse of flame-red waves set him on a targeted path. Alle had her back to him. She was over by one of the colonnades talking to a guy with a severe case of lobster tan. They seemed weirdly intimate for two people who couldn’t have known one another for more than a couple of minutes, standing quite close, and their conversation seemed pretty intense.
“Do you know who that is?” he asked one of the waiting staff.
“The lady I don’t know, sir. The man – I believe he’s one of the journalists that have been here all week.”
A journalist.
Maybe she didn’t realise.
He watched the guy hand over a business card.
And maybe she did.
-29-
Back at the boutique hotel, only a few streets away from the theatre, Alle stripped off her couture. It wasn’t that the dress wasn’t beautiful, or that she hadn’t felt regal wearing it, but she just wanted to be herself when she explained everything to Spook. How would he react? She really wasn’t sure. She only knew that she hadn’t wanted to tell him surrounded by hundreds of people.
Her phone flared into life, trilling one of Spook’s famous guitar riffs at her.
SPOOK: Is everything okay? I was looking for you, but Dani says you’ve left.
SPOOK: Did I do something?
SPOOK: Are you upset?
ALLE: I bumped into someone. I’d rather not explain via text. It’s complicated. Slipping away seemed the best plan.
SPOOK: So I’ll see you at the hotel?
He sounded so doubtful. Saddened by the possibility that she might have fled without an explanation or saying goodbye. Maybe she ought to have taken more time to explain to Dani why she’d felt the need to leave?
Her phone bleated again, this time with a cry from the middle of one of Black Halo’s biggest anthems.
XANE: You never struck me as the sort to run away. What are you doing, girl?
ALLE: Not running. Avoiding. Bumped into someone.
Yet another tune started up.
RONNIE: RG says you skipped out on Spook. WTF happened? Thought U2 were tight.
ALLE: My brother’s in town.
RONNIE: ??? Relevance?
ALLE: He’s working for the enemy.
RONNIE: You’ve lost me. What war? Also, which bruv? Wouldn’t mind catching up with Flynn.
ALLE: Not Flynn. Marshall.
RONNIE: Don’t know him.
ALLE: Wish I didn’t either.
XANE: Bumped into who? Do not jerk him around, Alle. Last thing he needs is girl troubles.
ALLE: I’m not fucking with him.
XANE: So why were you talking to Bang!?
ALLE: I wasn’t.
XANE: You were seen. They’re the reason his hand got sliced & he wound up shitfaced.
ALLE: I thought that was down to the incident at the arena.
XANE: Ava/Bang! ensured shit got shittier. Did you not see the write ups?
XANE: FFS. He’s hitting the hard stuff. Great efforts.
SPOOK: Are you done with me?
Shit, she hadn’t replied to him, due to the chain of other messages.
ALLE: No. No way.
He doubted her?
ALLE: We do need to talk. There’s something you should know.
SPOOK: You talked to Bang!?
Had he that little faith in her integrity?
XANE: We’re on our way back. For fucking fucks sake your explanation better be good.
SPOOK: What did they tell you? Did they say shit about me? At least let me explain, Alle.
AL
LE: No one said anything.
They hadn’t. Not really. Marshall had insinuated a couple of things, but he’d turned stirring into an art form even as a kid. It wasn’t like he’d actually made an accusation, or presented evidence of some big wrongdoing. He’d just been obnoxious.
SPOOK: Really?
ALLE: Really.
ALLE: I didn’t talk to them. It’s not what you think.
SPOOK: In the limo
RONNIE: C U in 5.
XANE: ETA 3mins
ALLE (TO ALL): Great. I’ll be in the bar.
They could all come and scream at her there.
-30-
They arrived one after another, pouring into the hotel lounge area like they were marching into battle. Xane got too close. Rock Giant too. Ronnie danced around in her peripheral vision looking like he really wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure about cutting in. Alle held her tongue. She didn’t have to answer to any of them.
The only person who mattered was Spook.
He appeared last of all, like a shadow on the periphery of her vision. Jacket gone, he stood in shirt sleeves, the cuffs rolled up to the elbows, and his bowtie a crumpled knot trailing from his trouser pocket. As she watched, he freed his white blond hair from the band holding it tidy at the back of his neck, so that it spilled like frost over his broad shoulders.
Ignoring all the voices assaulting her with questions, Alle pushed through the wall of muscle to reach him.
“Spook. We can do this here if you prefer, or we could speak privately.”
He stared at her with his monsoon eyes. “Just explain why you left. Why you’re here. Why you were talking to a reporter for Bang!”
“I didn’t know,” she said, leaping to her own defence. “He’s my brother. I didn’t know that he worked for Bang! or that he was in Cannes. He saw me arrive with you all.” She shook her head. “I’m not sure why, but he thought I was with Xane, and didn’t seem keen to believe me when I said otherwise. He’s ambitious, Spook. I wish I could say he wouldn’t sell me out, but I’m not actually that sure. He’d probably do it and then tell me it was for my own good. Rock stars are bad news, apparently. I didn’t want to give him any ammunition or ideas, so it seemed best to leave.”
He listened unblinking to her garbled speech, then tugged her away from the group and out into the corridor. They stood beneath the whirring air con vent, the rain of cool air stealing some of the heat from their emotions.
“Unexpected family shit,” he said. “That’s the text you should have sent me. Succinct. Self-explanatory. You’re not responsible for your brother’s actions.”
She frowned at the doubt in his voice that seemed to contradict his words. “You’re right. I didn’t think. I was too flummoxed by him appearing and what he said.” She sighed into her hand, before covering her face. “Ah, Christ! I can’t believe he’s working for that outfit. I swear he’s not usually so sleazy.” Or maybe he was and she didn’t care to admit it.
“What was it that he said, Alle?”
What had he said? A lot, and also very little. Typical Marshall, all insinuation while he kept the details close to his chest. “That he couldn’t believe I was dumb enough to date a rocker, and didn’t I know that there are women in your past that wished they’d never met you.”
“My past? He said that about me, not Xane?”
She took a moment to run through the exchange she and Marshall had again. “Yes, about you.”
He paled. “Why warn you off me, if he thought you were with Xane?”
Genuinely, she wished she had answers for him.
“Why’d he think you were with Xane?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.” Had Marshall seen them arrive? “He’s an idiot. Maybe he can’t grasp the possibility that his sister would chase a man who’s ostensibly sworn off sex, even if he doesn’t believe that to be true. He’s called me a tart plenty of times in the past.”
“You mean he’s a chauvinistic bigot?”
Her shoulders sagged. “Maybe I do. He certainly seems to think nursing and caring roles are entirely my province. He was the first to declare himself too busy to deal with dad. He didn’t even show for the funeral.”
“What else did he say, Alle?”
“Only that Xane’s bad news, and you’re no saint either.”
A smile started in his eyes and soon tweaked the corners of his mouth upwards. “Is that what you believe?”
“I don’t know Xane well enough to comment.”
“About me?”
“It’s what you keep telling me.”
“But what do you think?”
“I think you’re a deeply layered mystery. Flawed in the same ways we all are. No worse or better than anyone else. Human,” she sighed. “Also, the man I’d like to be with. I’m sorry my family are such a fucking nightmare.” She reached out to him, then, touching his face. Spook leaned in and let her kiss him.
“Don’t disappear again like that.”
Alle chuckled. “That’s funny, coming from you. The man who notoriously scrambles for cover every time I turn my back.”
“Not every time,” he said, hand cupped against her cheek, and sincerity burning in his vividly blue eyes. “I’m sorry that you feel I’ve strung you along in the past. That was unkind. Unworthy of me. It’s just difficult, Alle. Difficult to let go of what’s been and not fear history repeating itself. Your brother’s right. I’m no saint.”
It was her turn to hold tight to him. “I don’t want or expect you to be one. I love you as you are, Spook. Exactly as you are.”
She bit her tongue. Something like fright struck deep into his eyes.
“Alle,” he sighed, turning away. There was no reciprocal ‘I love you.’ Nothing, in fact, to acknowledge she’d opened her heart up so completely to him.
It’s okay if you don’t say it back. Another lie. She felt the absence of his response deep in her bones. If the soul genuinely existed, then hers ached.
Spook silently grasped her hand. He kept his head bowed, as he led her away from the noise of the bar and the humming air con, through the small tangle of corridors to their room.
“Do you think your brother means to dig?” he asked while he figured out the access to their room. “Because there are things in my past that I’d much rather stayed there.”
What things? What was so terrifyingly shady that his mind was fixated on that, rather than the fact she’d said she loved him?
“Spook.” She caught his shoulder, then entwined her fingers in his hair as they tumbled into their suite together. “I don’t know. Maybe. Or perhaps he was just being a dick because I’d caught him out by unexpectedly being there and hence made him look like twat in front of his colleagues. Xane didn’t pull any punches when he spoke to Ava. I imagine, ‘Who the fuck is the red-head?’ ‘Oh, it’s my sister.’ didn’t go down all that well.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, still avoiding her gaze. “Please don’t be offended if I decline any offers to attend your next family get-together.”
“I didn’t figure we were anywhere near the meet the family stage.”
Spook nodded.
They weren’t. He’d just made that very clear. There didn’t seem any sense in pretending otherwise. In fact, they seemed to be worlds apart in how committed they were.
“Do you…” She began. “Does this, what we have between us, has it life beyond the next few days?”
He did look at her then. Looked at her and sighed a sigh that seemed dredged up from his toes.
“I know you’re commitment phobic, but—”
He cut her off by pressing a finger to her lips, and then kissing that digit while it still lay pressed against her. “I heard what you said, Alle. I know you’d like to hear me return that sentiment, but that requires an open heart.”
“And yours is rusted up and the key is lost. I don’t think that’s true. It’s only what you want me to believe.”
Seemingly weighed down by that thought, Spook
pulled away from her. He opened the mini-bar, and began mixing them drinks. His snowy shirt strained across his back and the tops of his biceps as he moved. It was expensive enough that the shapes of his tattoos were entirely obscured. After a moment, he absently pulled the shirt free of his trousers.
“What happened to your jacket?”
“Dani has it.”
He faced her again, drinks in hand. “Gin Martini?” He pressed a glass into her palm.
Alle obligingly took a sip. It was surprisingly good. The man knew how to mix a drink, even without a shaker.
She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. Perspiration beaded the skin of his neck. “I’m too damned hot,” he muttered, putting the drink aside in order to tackle his shirt buttons. He shed the cotton like a layer of skin, treating her to the sight of his bared torso – all taut slabs and glorious ink. Damn him, he was delight for her tired eyes.
Mesmerising.
Mysterious.
Maddening.
Even while she was hurt.
Spook wasn’t paying attention to her gaze, or he’d probably have blushed at the scrutiny, his focus set on the room’s thermostat. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not really acclimatized to the Med. Am I making it too chilly for you if I set this at twelve degrees?”
“Depends. If I say yes, will you keep stripping in order to cool off?”
“I was planning on doing that anyway.” Sure enough, his trousers followed his shirt.
“Set it how you like. I can always snuggle up to you if I get too cold.”
“True.” As if the last few minutes of conversation had never happened. He sank onto the pristine white bed in his navy boxer briefs.
“Spook. You never answered me. Is this going anywhere?”
Settled upon the pillows, back against the headboard, he looked at her. “Did anybody ever mention how pushy you are? I told you; one step at a time, one day at a time. I like you Allegra Hutton. You make me want things no one else has made me want in a very long time, but if you push too hard…”
Reflex Page 21
