Читать книгу Her Not-So-Secret Diary - Anne Oliver, Anne Oliver - Страница 9

‘YOUR ten o’clock cancelled,’ Sophie informed Jared as they walked to the car.

A hunger fist clenched around her stomach. She hadn’t had time for breakfast. And she’d refused Sam’s offer for refreshment because she hadn’t been sure she’d keep it down she was so uptight, and had stuck to her bottled water. ‘He’ll ring back this afternoon and reschedule.’

Jared aimed the remote at the car and the alarm blipped. ‘In that case, I’d like to make another stop before we head back.’

She’d been hoping for some time and space back at the office. Alone at her desk. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him, inhaling his scent, listening to his voice and wondering. This on-the-edge-of-the-seat feeling that Jared might have read her diary was killing her. In a way it was almost worse than knowing. At least if she knew, she could make some attempt to deal with it. But she wasn’t going to risk asking.

It was a beautiful day with the sky’s blue dome reflecting on the sea. Ridges of surf scrolled along the sand, already dotted with beach-goers. Right now Sophie wished she were one of them. No boss to stress over, just a day of relaxation stretched out to enjoy. Or better still, to be one of the gulls wheeling high and low over the ocean.

As she watched Jared open the boot she reminded herself she’d be as free as those gulls in just under four weeks. He dropped his gear in, motioned her to do the same with Pam’s laptop. He shrugged out of his jacket once more, then to her surprise he yanked off his tie and tossed it in the boot with the rest of his stuff, and said, ‘What do you say to fish and chips?’

Now? What was wrong with muesli and fruit and a nice hot coffee? ‘It’s only nine-twenty—’

‘First off, do you like fish and chips? And I’m not talking the fast-food skinny-mini deals but the old-fashioned crisp on the outside, soft in the middle and wrapped in butcher paper kind.’

‘I do, but—’

‘So forget the office—and the boss—for an hour and take a break. I know a little seafood shop here that’s open early. They do take-away cappuccino too, if you need your caffeine fix.’

Forget the office? Take a break? She’d barely done an hour’s work. Forgetting the boss wasn’t going to happen and fish and chips at nine-thirty on a weekday?

Was this happy-looking, suddenly smiling man the same man Pam said was all work and no play? There had to be a catch.

‘O-k-ay.’ She smiled back, blinded by that knee-weakening crease. It really should be registered as a deadly weapon.

One block back from the esplanade and a few moments’ walk brought them to a row of shops. They passed a bakery and its rich scent of coffee and fresh bread. Sophie slowed her steps, all but drooling at the window selection, but then Jared laid a casual hand on her shoulder.

She jumped at the startling contact as he steered her past the shop with barely there persuasion. It seemed an easy relaxed gesture, except that she was super aware of the slight pressure of his fingers on her collarbone, like a low-grade current tickling her flesh. Aware also of the sun-warmed fragrances of clean cotton and masculine skin surrounding her.

As if he knew she’d been about to forgo chips in ten minutes in favour of a sticky bun right now, he dipped his head and said, ‘It’ll be worth the wait.’ His voice was lazy and layered with all the richness of the Black Forest gateau she’d just salivated over.

‘Is that a promise?’ She heard her own voice echo that same tone and her suddenly dry tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth. Her heart rate accelerated as she turned and looked up at him. They were talking food, weren’t they?

His expression revealed nothing … but had his eyes gone darker? ‘You can tell me afterwards.’

‘Right.’ His eyes were darker. And up close she noticed the distinctive olive green was ringed with a fine rim of navy. She also noticed they’d stopped walking. He was still touching her and her flesh was still tingling.

She hitched her bag higher so that his hand slid away, and resumed walking, but he was close enough so that their arms bumped, a too-delicious friction of firm flesh, crisp shirt and masculine hair.

A moment later he slowed again, this time outside a bright shop called The Baby Tree with teddies spilling out of prams and the cutest little baby outfits suspended from colourful chains. ‘Come on. Help me choose something for my new niece. Thirty seconds. What do you think—a teddy or that fluffy red kangaroo?’

For one trembly moment of indecision Sophie stared at the pretty window and the pair of tiny overalls covered in roses with a matching sun-hat. The rainbow selection of lace booties. And yearned.

Then the familiar chill that accompanied such visions swirled through her heart and she shivered in the balmy air. She hadn’t set foot in a baby shop since—In a long time.

‘I’m not really a baby person.’ She spun away from the window and gazed at the shop across the street, but didn’t see it. ‘Don’t let me stop you, though.’ Without looking at him, she dredged up a smile from somewhere and pasted it on her lips, while groping in her bag for her sunglasses. Hoping she looked more careless and indifferent than she felt, she waved in the direction they’d been heading. ‘I’ll go ahead and order.’

She slid on the glasses, turned and walked. One foot in front of the other. Her smile dropped from her lips and she was conscious of the residual sweaty palms and heavy heartbeat. Of all the shops he could have chosen, he’d stopped at The Baby Tree.

It had caught her off guard. With most of her friends down the coast in Newcastle, over the past four years it had been easy to avoid the baby trap. Pam was seriously single and Sophie’s focus was her upcoming overseas trip. Not making babies and playing happy families.

Those things hadn’t worked for her.

She’d be ready next time he pulled that trick. Next time? She coughed out a half-laugh. Hardly. After today she wouldn’t have to see Jared Sanderson again. She kept her eyes peeled for the fish shop, but she hadn’t gone farther than a couple of metres along the footpath when he caught up.

He fell into step beside her. ‘Hey.’

His tone was bland and she couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or concerned. Please, God, anything but concern. She could deal with annoyance, indifference, even anger, but concern. Concern could weaken her resistance, leaving her vulnerable. Again. She refused to allow anyone too close. Giving your love, your trust, yourself to someone else only brought heartbreak. She’d learned that lesson too.

Jared must have caught the vibes; he’d put at least an arm span between them and guilt pierced the self-preservation she normally surrounded herself with. ‘I really don’t mind. She’s your sister … If you want to—’

‘No big deal, I’ll do it later. We’re here.’ He stopped at the next wide glass door and pushed it open, the air-conditioned swirl mingling with the aroma of hot fat.

‘Rico. Buongiorno.’

‘Buongiorno.’ The rotund swarthy man beaming at Jared as if he was some long-lost friend looked to be in his late forties. He also looked as if he’d been dining on his own menu for a good many of those years. ‘Didn’t expect to see you down this way today.’

‘Had a spare hour.’

‘And you haven’t come alone.’ He shone his beam on Sophie.

‘Rico, meet Sophie. Sophie, Rico. A serve of your best chips to go, please, my friend. And a cappuccino for my hard-working colleague here.’

‘Very happy to make your acquaintance, Sophie.’ Rico winked at her as he scooped chips into a wire basket, lowered it into the fryer. ‘If this man doesn’t treat you right, I have a brother. Has his own seafood restaurant in Broadbeach. He’s single and better looking.’

Sophie shoved her sunglasses on top of her head. She glanced at Jared, caught him looking at her and didn’t quite smother her grin. ‘I’ll keep it in mind.’

‘Get Jared to take you there for dinner one night.’

She jerked her gaze back to Rico. ‘Oh … no. I’m … we’re not … dating.’

His thick black brows rose, then a look of pure devilment danced in his dark eyes. ‘Why not?’

‘I’m just temping at Jared’s office for the day.’ Why had she said the D word, for heaven’s sake? Rico had no doubt meant a business dinner. But it had just burst out. and, oh, she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

‘Don’t listen to him, Sophie,’ Jared said, his voice tinged with amusement, and to Rico, ‘Did you go over those figures with Enzo yet?’

And just what had Jared meant by that look he’d given Rico? To her relief, he seemed to have forgotten she was there already. To keep from feeling like a spare part and to give them some privacy since they were discussing business, she crossed to one of the little round tables by the window, sat down and flicked through a well-thumbed women’s magazine.

Anything to keep from looking at him. Or admiring the cut to the trousers that showcased long legs and firm butt and imagining … No. Frowning, she forced herself to refocus on the latest celebrity break-up.

Her eyes remained on the page but her mind worked as the guys talked. The familiarity and bond between the two was obvious. Jared hadn’t taken an hour out of his day to ‘forget about the office’ and entertain her. He’d used the opportunity to catch up with Rico and make it seem as if he were doing Sophie a favour at the same time. Very clever.

‘Bring your coffee,’ he said, dragging her out of her contemplation, ‘and let’s go see the beach.’

They took their white paper-wrapped package to the esplanade and sat on a bench overlooking the sand. The sea’s boom-dump vibrated through the soles of her feet. The gulls swooped in noisily from nowhere the moment Sophie unwrapped the shared snack. She took a chip, broke it open, popped a piece in her mouth. Then she threw the other half to the birds to watch them squawk and squabble while she sipped at her much anticipated frothy cappuccino.

‘You’re right, they’re yummy,’ she said, reaching for another while carefully avoiding Jared’s fingers. She hadn’t eaten chips this good since she couldn’t remember when.

‘Haven’t done this in a while,’ Jared said, popping the top on his can of soda.

‘Probably just as well. Salt, fat, calories. Too much of a good thing …’

Sophie watched, mesmerised as he downed his cola in deep slow swallows that made his Adam’s apple bob amazingly. He lifted his lips from the can a moment and smiled, eyes twinkling. ‘You can never have too much of a good thing, Sophie.’

Oh, the way he said that, all luscious and low as if he was talking about sex. And drawing her attention to his lips, wet with the cola … and they’d be cool and sweet.

Not going there.

She plucked another fat, fragrant chip, slid it between her lips and, closing her eyes, savoured every drop of excess. If she couldn’t have sex, at least she could eat. ‘So …’ Licking the salt from her fingers, she opened her eyes once more to find him still watching her. More precisely, watching her mouth. ‘That’s your opinion and you’re sticking to it.’

‘A good thing is only a good thing for as long as you enjoy it.’

Glen had lived by that code too, Sophie remembered. She drained her coffee to mask the sudden bitterness in her mouth. ‘Then what? You discard it for another passing fancy?’

‘If it’s not bringing you pleasure, then yeah.’

Her fingers tightened around the polystyrene cup. ‘Sounds totally self-absorbed to me.’

He laughed. ‘Probably. And why not? So long as it’s not hurting anyone else.’

‘Exactly.’ She relented. Okay, maybe he didn’t include relationships in that particular philosophy. It seemed he genuinely cared about people. Rico. His sisters. Even Pam. He was one of the good guys after all. And mega rich, mega gorgeous, mega motivated.

She noticed his gaze had turned speculative and probing. Something glimmered in the green depths and her heart skipped a beat. Did he read minds as well? Looking away, she took aim and tossed her empty cup neatly into the trash can.

‘What about your favourites list? What can’t you have too much of, Sophie?’

You. Naked. Inside me.

Her skin warmed, prickled, and she swore every internal organ turned to mush. She felt like an over-ripe peach, ready to be plucked, split apart and plundered. Gloriously and within an inch of her life.

Liquid heat gathered between her thighs and she bit the inside of her lip. Had she just accused him of being self-absorbed? Behind her sunglasses she met his unshielded gaze and reminded herself of what she really wanted these days. ‘Wealth,’ she said, reaching for the bottled water in her bag. She sucked it down with a vengeance. ‘And independence.’

He looked surprised, as if he’d expected her to say something indulgent or female, like chocolate or shoes. A crease dug a groove between his brows. ‘Sounds a little sad and lonely.’

‘Why?’ Annoyed with his response, she tipped her bottle in his direction. ‘You don’t strike me as lonely. Or sad. You’ve obviously worked towards those same goals all your life, and by all accounts you’ve succeeded better than most.’ Which made him a hypocrite or sexist or both. ‘So don’t tell me you’re not happy with your success.’

‘That goes without saying and I assume you’re talking financial success. But mostly I’m happy because I don’t allow myself to think any other way. Doesn’t mean I don’t have my disappointments.’

Not knowing how to respond, she nodded as she reached for another chip. With his wealth and charisma, she’d not thought of Jared as a man to experience setbacks. Which was totally naïve of her. Everyone had setbacks. It was how one dealt with them.

He gave the impression that he was powerful enough to accomplish whatever he wanted, but she knew nothing of his background or what obstacles he’d overcome to get to where he was.

Before she could form a question around that, he said, ‘I take it family and kids figure somewhere in all that wealth and independence.’

A few years ago Sophie’s answer would have been an unequivocal yes. Despite the emotional trauma she’d experienced growing up in a family where booze and violence were the norm, she’d always believed it could be different for her. All those years of growing up with her collection of dolls and romantic ever afters, but now.

Reality check.

For the second time in less than an hour a reminder that her female body had let her down in the baby-making department. Which was hardly relevant since she had no intention of getting serious with a man, ever again. Still, it was failure and she chugged on her water bottle to take a moment to compose herself.

She pushed herself up from the bench, grateful for her sunglasses shield. ‘Not me.’ She laughed, turning seaward and throwing her hands wide. ‘Why tie yourself down with kids when you can travel the world? Do what you choose when you choose. Live life the way you want.’ She turned to him and nodded. ‘Yes, I’m completely and unashamedly selfish. I admit it.’

Shading his forehead with a hand, Jared studied her through eyes squinted against the beach’s glare. Hard to tell if she was being completely truthful because he couldn’t read her eyes behind her sunglasses. Thanks to her, he’d left his own damn sunglasses in the car. She’d thrown him off course last night with her dream, and twelve hours later nothing had changed.

‘Good for you,’ he said, crushing the empty chip wrapper and standing too. ‘I like an honest woman who’s not afraid to say what she means.’

Why not take her at her word? he decided. He had no reason not to. So she admitted she was selfish—didn’t matter to him in the great scheme of things. Besides, he had a feeling she wasn’t as self-absorbed as she let on. He picked up his empty cola can and headed for the bin. ‘It’s time to make a move.’

* * *

At least she was upfront about what she wanted, he mused as they drove back to Surfers. Rico was right—Sophie was a beautiful woman. And red hot to boot. He’d not had a woman in too long, which was why his skin felt as if it were on fire and he couldn’t for the life of him, get her out of his head. Beautiful. Single. Living in the moment.

Bianca had been the same, he remembered, with her wild sensual beauty and Bohemian lifestyle. God only knew why—when he thought about it with the wisdom of five years more maturity—but he’d fancied himself in love and had asked her to marry him.

But Bianca had refused to accept twelve-year-old Melissa as part of the deal. Something Jared didn’t compromise on was Melissa’s well-being, so it had been bye-bye Bianca.

After he’d picked up the pieces of his heart and fitted them back together, he’d realised he and Bianca would never have made it work in the long term.

But circumstances were different now. Melissa was more or less independent even if she did still live at home. So … if he and Sophie got together. From the outset he knew Sophie wasn’t going to be long term. She was going overseas, so there was no possibility of anything serious developing between them.

Not that he could ever get serious with a happy wanderer who didn’t like kids. He wasn’t looking for marriage right now, but when he settled down he wanted a woman who held the same values he did. A lifetime commitment to family. Sharing, trust. And children.

But that wasn’t now.

A few weeks with no-strings Sophie wouldn’t be a hardship. Wouldn’t be a hardship at all. He just had to seduce Sophie a little, tempt her with a taste of her own desires, her private fantasies. He ran a hand around the back of his neck, shifted on the seat as his blood pumped a little faster around his body. Then a smile touched his lips. Who knew her desires better than him? Who better than Jared to make those fantasies a reality?