Читать книгу Perfect Proposals Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 18

GABE burst into Nate’s office the next morning at eight sharp. ‘We’re not selling!’

Nate looked up from his position on the floor by the window where he was twisting himself into some kind of pretzel shape on a mat.

Gabe’s heels all but screeched on the rug as he pulled to a screaming halt. He cleared his throat and looked away. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ll come back when you’re not … doing that.’

Nate pulled himself neatly to standing and wiped a hand across his sweating brow. Motioning to the mat with an elbow as he downed half a bottle of water, he said, ‘Yoga. Good for stress relief. You should try it.’

Gabe looked pointedly around Nate’s princely office as he sank into a butter-soft leather couch. ‘What have you got to be stressed about?’

Nate snorted. ‘Now, what was it you stormed in here so early in the morning to declare?’

‘Don’t list the company,’ Gabe said. ‘Don’t sell.’

Nate leant his backside against his desk and watched Gabe for a long moment. Then he asked, ‘Why?’

‘I’ve been up all night rereading the contracts. All of them.’ Well, much of the night. The first half he’d spent in Paige’s bed. It was soft, cool, and he’d found it nearly as difficult to leave it behind as his own. But fuelled by a kind of boyish energy he hadn’t felt in years he’d felt a need to do the job he’d come there to do. So he’d kissed her goodnight and gone back to his apartment where he’d downed about a keg of coffee and read. ‘I needed to understand what we’ve achieved. And what we’d be giving up. After what we’ve gone through to get here? To hell with that.’

‘Okay, then,’ Nate said. He moved around his desk, picked up the phone and asked his assistant to get ‘John’ on the phone as soon as he was in, then put down the phone with a soft click. ‘So you’re in for the long haul?’

‘That’s what it said on the beer coaster.’

At that Nate’s cool finally gave way. He grinned from ear to ear. And it was done. No over-thinking, over-talking, making things more complicated than they had to be. Just two men, making a decision that set the course for the rest of their lives.

Nate moved to the far wall where a bar was hidden discreetly inside a bookshelf. Like something Rock Hudson would have had in his apartment in some old Doris Day movie. Gran would have liked that. Would have liked this. Gabe’s mouth kicked into a half smile.

Gabe took the imported pony-necked beer on offer, even while it was eight in the morning, and the two men clinked bottles before taking a hearty swig. The bubbles burned down Gabe’s throat. Cold, sharp, invigorating. As if his body were fresh and hollow and waiting for the filling.

Nate said, ‘Would have been more dramatic if you’d waited until the meeting with the Securities Commission.’

‘Thought that’s what I was doing, hence the volume of my proclamation.’

‘They’re due at nine. Did you actually read any of the internal memos I CC’d you these past weeks?’

‘I figured if there was anything of grave importance you’d make sure I knew.’

Nate ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘Tell me again why I wanted you back?’

‘My winning personality.’

Nate’s eyebrows lifted till they all but disappeared into his hairline.

And so they continued, offending one another and knocking back beers until they were gloriously sloshed. When BonaVenture’s lawyer called back a half-hour later, listening to the poor guy go off his nut was the most fun Gabe’d had at work in ages. And he wondered why it was he’d not come home sooner.

Paige pushed her way through the heavy glass doors leading to the head office of Ménage à Moi. She shielded her eyes against the overbright twinkles from the coloured glass chandelier above, her heels catching in the thick cream carpet as she trudged down the hall towards her office.

Her mind was like mud. Making love to Gabe half the night was only half the problem, as from the minute he’d left she’d had not a wink of sleep. After the drama of the date, the delicateness of the cab ride, and the sweet glorious way Gabe had made love to her all through the night, she’d been consumed by the sudden need to put it all into a neat little box. The feelings, and fears, and flutterings filling her as she’d lain there staring at her dark ceiling were so far beyond the bounds of her experience, if she didn’t control them she feared they’d control her.

Crap, crap, crappity-crap!

Susie, her assistant, looked up from her cubicle with a start, and Paige realised she’d shouted that last bit out loud. She was re-e-eally going to have to stop doing that.

‘Morning, boss. Guess who got a delivery?’ Susie said, leaping from her chair and rushing to sweep Paige’s office door open. ‘Look.’

As if she could have missed it. A gargantuan bunch of flowers in a vase on her big glass desk—effusive, lush blooms of creams and greens—swamped everything else in the room. The feelings, fears, and flutterings smacking into one another as they went crazy inside her, Paige reached for the card with shaking fingers. Opened it.

The message was simple. Cryptic. And not from Gabe.

I owe you one, it read, signed Nate Mackenzie.

Gabe’s business partner? What on earth would he be thanking her for—?

Oh, God. The one and only time they’d talked he’d asked for a favour. He’d wanted her to use her influence to get Gabe to stay.

A rush of warm, hopeful, luxuriant, dangerous feelings swarmed her, so fierce and scattered she hadn’t a hope in hell of controlling them.

She shoved the card back into the envelope and said, ‘Thanks, Susie.’

Susie bounded on her toes, clearly desperate to ask about the flowers, but it was as clear that her boss wasn’t about to spill the juice. She shut the door quietly on her way out.

Paige turned the glossy white wooden blinds until they let in as little sunlight as possible, threw her jacket and scarf over the pewter stand in the corner, then slowly sat in her chair. She moved the mouse to bring her monitor to life, clicked on the memo icon on the screen and tried to start her day. But the ridiculous spray of flowers occupying the left side of her vision taunted her. She gave up and reached out and ran her fingers over a pale velvety petal.

Was Gabe staying? He hadn’t said anything about it last night. And for him he’d said a lot. So she couldn’t dare hope. She couldn’t dare discount it either. Either way, the time had come for damage control. To protect herself, as she had done her whole life.

Of course the most sensible thing to do was end it now. She laughed so loud she expected Susie to come running. Who was she kidding? She no more had the wherewithal to end it now than to chop off her own leg. But it would end. Whether quick and painful, or slow and painful, these things always did.

Paige bent over until her head thunked on her desk.

If she had any hope of getting off this roller coaster with an ounce of self-respect, she had to do whatever it took to make sure Gabe never guessed how she felt. She was going to have to remind him what their relationship was all about: not dates and feelings and impossible hopes.

She only hoped it wasn’t too late.

When Gabe got home that evening he felt as if he were walking on air. He and Nate had spent the better part of the day in Nate’s office, laughing, reminiscing, ordering in take-out, while the rest of the office went bonkers. Turned out one of the nice things about being such a success was that they could pay other people to deal with the fallout.

The day only got better when he walked into his apartment to find Paige sitting on his kitchen bench, toying with his flamingo mobile-phone holder. Her long legs crossed at the knees and the setting sunlight slicing between the buildings, creating gold, pink, and hot orange streaks across her body. Her naked body.

‘Evening,’ she said, a slumberous smile playing about her gorgeous mouth. Then she pulled a strawberry from a bowl beside her and slid it between her lips. The ripe red fruit popping in her mouth before her tongue swept out to lick away the juice. ‘Want some?’

Heat sliced through his body in a devastating wave and his feet forgot how to move. She was every Sam Spade fantasy any man had ever had but with one big difference. She was real. Flesh and blood. Soft skin and softer lips and—He was so hard so fast he couldn’t think any more.

He dropped his laptop bag to the floor, and went to her; the last truly coherent thought was that he ought to speak to Sam the Super about security.

He was so hot for her it should have been over in half a minute, but the second his lips met hers, he tasted strawberry on his tongue, absorbed the warmth in her soft bare skin sliding against his palms, something shifted. And the whole world became still.

His eyes found hers, looking to see if she felt it too, but the sun’s rays shimmered too bright in all that liquid blue. He tucked her hair behind her ears, and as she sucked in a short, sharp breath he saw it. Desire, need, anticipation. And something a lot like awe. Hit with an emotional wallop he couldn’t hope to decipher in his rigid state, he knew there was no way to tell her how she made him feel. He’d have to show her.

Even as he burned with an ache he could barely contain, he slid an arm beneath her knees, and carried her to his room, his eyes not leaving hers. She blinked fast. Her breaths coming hard. And clasped her hands together behind his neck.

He took her to his big bed and gently laid her down. Her pale skin glowing against the rich dark brown of his sheets, her blonde hair splayed around her beautiful face, her eyes, dark with passion, watching him hungrily. She looked … He wanted … He knew …

Hell.

He tore off his clothes. Too many layers, damnable Melbourne winter. Then naked, protected, he lowered himself over her, carefully. Her eyes not once leaving his, she reached to cup his head, and pulled him down to kiss her. Deeply, slowly, thoroughly.

When she wrapped one long leg around his backside and moaned softly into his mouth, any control he might have had slipped away. He pressed himself against her opening to find her more than ready, and he pushed into her in one smooth stroke.

Skin on skin. Heat on heat. The slip and slide of their bodies created the most perfect friction he’d ever felt. Their eyes remained locked on one another throughout as he buried himself so deep inside her he wasn’t sure how he’d ever find his way back.

Her mouth opened on a gasp, the muscles of her neck straining, her eyes drifting closed as he felt her tighten, and tighten, and tighten. The most luxurious torture consumed him right as she came in his arms with a cry that echoed around the room. He peaked while she still convulsed around him, the pleasure slamming to the absolute outer reaches of his consciousness. The devastating pressure eased from his body in slow receding waves, until he was left feeling boneless. Bare.

He pulled out, and lay down beside her, cradling her into him, his arm holding her between her breasts, her beautiful backside pressed against his groin, her hair beneath his cheek. And it wasn’t long before her breaths settled to the soft puffs of sleep.

As he lay there, more wide awake than he could ever remember feeling, the world outside slid back into his mind. He was keeping BonaVenture. Which meant working more closely alongside Nate. And not leaving any time soon.

Paige had never hidden the fact that she was perfectly happy for their affair to be a short-term thing. And he’d been right there with her. His staying would change everything. One way or the other.

She shifted in her sleep, the underneath of her foot sliding along the top of his, her cheek rising to press against his lips before she settled deeper into his pillow.

He had to tell her. She needed to know. Not while his whole body still hummed from the after-effects of making love to her.

He’d lived by his gut for long enough now, he’d know when the time was right.

Paige came back to consciousness slowly. Her body felt so drugged with pleasure she could barely open her eyes. But when Gabe’s scent curled beneath her tongue she remembered where she was. In his bed, covered in a big dark blanket, with a big hard man tucked right in behind her.

The big seduction scene she had planned had gone up in smoke the second she’d looked into Gabe’s eyes and realised how much she hoped he was staying. And then when, with so much gentleness, he’d stroked her hair from her face, she’d forgotten everything but how he made her feel. Safe, adored, hot as the sun.

All the control she’d planned to take back had slipped through her fingers, and now she felt as if she’d been turned inside out and pulled apart and put back together again wrong. No, not wrong so much as differently.

She turned, his big heavy arm sliding across her breasts. She pushed a lock of dark hair away to get a better look at him as he slept. His long dark lashes rested peacefully against his swarthy cheeks. His nostrils flared with each breath. Fresh stubble shadowed his jaw.

A sigh shot past her lips, bringing with it a sense of inevitability.

She’d spent so much time convincing herself that the intensity of their affair had sprung from the situation, her desperation to get laid and quick, his brief stay in town. But in that quiet place, that quiet moment, in his big beautiful bed with its Gabe-shaped dint in the middle that sloped their bodies towards one another, she gave up trying.

She placed her hand over his heart and with her next breath in she let herself feel the surge of sensations blooming inside her. The pinch in her chest, the warmth in her belly, the way her lungs felt as if they couldn’t get quite enough air any more—like spots of ink dropped into a pond, spreading from her centre in little ripples that crashed softly against her skin.

Gabe stirred, the muscles in his chest undulating, sending her hand rolling over the smooth hot skin as if it were riding the crest of a wave.

This. This man. This heat. This feeling. It seemed as if there ought to be one word to sum all of that up.

There was a word, she realised as the ripples headed back to her centre and joined in a warm, solid, beautiful ache in her heart. A word she’d spent her life shunning, mocking, fearing.

It was love. And it had been coming on for so long it wasn’t even a shock.

What it was was amazing. Beautiful. Consuming. A miracle.

I love you, Gabe, she whispered inside her head. Then, spent, she snuggled under the blankets and fell back asleep.

Paige nibbled on her little fingernail, or what was left of it, and watched Mae’s mouth move as she gushed over a pair of sky-high white boots at Bridge Road discount shoe shop. But she heard nothing but the thoughts swimming through her head.

That which she’d only begun to fathom the night before had grown wings and taken flight. She was head over heels, deep and true, in love with Gabe. She’d done things, admitted things, felt things with him she’d never imagined she’d ever do. She’d never been with a man who made her feel safe enough to dare. She wanted to be with him, the way normal people had relationships. She wanted him to stay.

She’d about convinced herself she wasn’t a sucker.

Gabe liked her. He trusted her. He wanted her. She knew all that for sure. There was also the fact that she’d given him more than his fair chances to wipe his hands of her, and something had kept him coming back for more. Didn’t all that mean what she wanted was possible, not the fantasy her mother had believed was real?

‘What do you think?’ Mae asked, jabbing her with a high heel, pain finally pulling her into the present.

‘About?’

‘These,’ Mae said, wiggling the boots in Paige’s face.

‘For what purpose?’

Mae blinked at her. ‘For … My … Wedding. Where are you right now? ’Cause as sure as I’m getting married you’re not here.’

Paige pulled her finger from her mouth. ‘I’m here. All yours. Now, boots. Well … that depends. Is your theme sexy Christmas elf?’

Mae grimaced and put the shoes back. ‘Even though your taste is totally boring, this has been fun!’

‘Totally.’ And it had been. Shopping with Mae—only Mae—was always fun.

Mae said, ‘Doesn’t it feel like weeks since we’ve been able to do this, just the two of us?’

Paige laughed, then realised by Mae’s blank smile that she hadn’t been kidding. It hadn’t occurred to Mae that it felt like weeks because it had been weeks. Which was why Paige was gripped by this amazing, delicious, petrifying, confusing, churning emotion and had no idea how to tell her best friend.

Paige picked up a hot-pink sparkly sandal and checked the price. ‘Lucky you’ve got this wedding stuff to organise or we’d never see each other.’

‘You’ve been the busy one of late. You and lover boy. In fact you look exhausted. And I think you should tell me in intimate detail exactly how he exhausted you last.’

At the mere mention of Gabe, Paige came over all hot and squidgy. Ignoring Mae she ran her fingers along the suede fringing of an aqua cowboy boot. Then she looked around and wondered if they’d walked into a shop meant for drag queens. Or hookers.

Mae gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Fine, then answer me this—when’s your sexy pirate setting sail?’

Paige slowly put the pink sparkly sandal back in place, lining it up neatly. ‘Not sure.’

Mae snuck a bite of a secret chocolate bar she had stashed in her handbag, while skimming a glance at the shop assistant hovering nervously around the array of absurdly expensive shoes. ‘But that’s still his plan, right?’

‘I really don’t know,’ Paige said as she turned the lurid green pump that had somehow ended up in her hand. There’d been no mention of leaving, or staying for that matter, when she’d headed off around dawn. Just a kiss so lush and deep her toes had curled so hard they’d cramped.

Mae swallowed slowly. ‘You haven’t thought to ask?’

‘No,’ Paige said, exasperated. ‘I haven’t.’

Because she was benevolently waiting for him to bring it up? Or because deep down below all the lovely, warm, excited feelings tumbling about inside the spin dryer that was her tummy, she wondered why he hadn’t talked it over with her already? Because it changed everything? Or because it didn’t make any difference?

‘Wow,’ Mae said on a slow release of breath.

Paige looked up, expecting Mae to be eyeballing some other crazy pair of wedding-inappropriate shoes.

But Mae watched her, eyes huge. ‘You’re a goner.’

Paige pffted with all her might and grabbed a pair of a tomato-red peep-toed ankle boots and sat on the black velvet ottoman in the middle of the store and toed off her comparatively conservative ballet flats.

‘Look at you,’ Mae said, sitting right next to her. ‘All flushed and trembly with that faraway look in your eyes. I caught you humming earlier. Some old movie song I couldn’t put my finger on. Sandra Dee—no, Doris Day! I think you’ve even put on a little weight.’

‘What?’ Paige said, hands going to her hips as she looked down at her thighs splayed on the seat. Mae was probably right there, considering what amounted to a doughnut addiction of Gabe’s, and how much she’d come to appreciate the perfect pleasure of dough and warm icing right after sex.

‘Careful,’ Mae said. ‘You might melt right here on the shop floor. And I don’t think la shop girl over there is big on mess.’

Paige put the boots down and stared at her chocolate brown toenails. ‘Look. Gabe and I are … We haven’t … I mean, I like him. I may even—But I’m not sure if he’s—’ Suddenly the boutique felt claustrophobic. ‘Maybe we should head to that place down the corner. It has two floors and an espresso machine.’ Paige had her feet in her shoes and was out of the door and off down the dodgy Richmond footpath, breathing in great gulps of chilly air.

Mae caught up a half-block down, taking her by the arm. ‘Paige, wait. Hon, this is me you’re talking to. Your best bud. What’s going on?’

Best bud? Paige thought, turning to look at her friend. The friend who had no clue how afraid she was in that moment. Afraid of loving Gabe. Afraid that he might not love her back. Afraid that so long as she got to have him she could live with that.

Mae looked back at her. Same wild red hair, same piercing green eyes. The same, but not. No longer all hers.

Finally the pressure built so hard and fast inside Paige there was nowhere for it to go but out. ‘You know why it feels like for ever since we’ve done this? Because the only things we do without Clint nowadays are wedding-related expeditions on which he is not allowed to come.’

Mae took a moment to catch onto the change of subject, before the colour drained out of her face. ‘No! No. It’s not like that.’

Mae looked so mortified, Paige’s resentment deflated like a pricked balloon. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s okay. I get it. Life goes on.’

Mae pulled her out of the stream of foot traffic until they huddled on the stoop of a dark doorway that apparently led to a Brazilian wax clinic. Of all places, Paige thought, promising to backhand Lady Fate the next time they caught up.

Mae said, ‘You know that nothing’s changed between us. I’ll always be there for you.’

Paige’s throat felt as if it was closing up. ‘You won’t. You’re already not.’

Mae opened her mouth but nothing came out. Then she frowned down at her Doc Martens with their red tartan laces. And Paige thought if nothing had changed Mae would wear them on her wedding day, not some vision of what she thought Clint might like.

The anger that churned through her at that thought pushed her the final step. Paige said, ‘The past few months have been hard for me, Mae. Like I can’t seem to get a foothold any more. In the past I’d have found it at work but even that’s not enough any more. I think that’s why I bought the dress. To feel something other than lost. Then along came Gabe. He makes me feel like I’ve been found. God, that’s petrifying. That I might actually need him in some way, any way …’ She closed her eyes, all her foolish feelings hurtling against the inside of her head.

‘Tell me about it,’ Mae said, her voice dripping with irony.

Paige opened her eyes to squint at Mae. ‘Don’t. You and Clint make it look so easy it burns.’

Mae threw her hands in the air and swore so loud Paige flinched. ‘God, I’m gonna have to come out and say it, aren’t I?’

‘What?’

Mae’s chutzpah faltered for a hundredth of a second before she said in a rush, ‘I cheated on Clint.’

Every ounce of blood in Paige’s body made a dash for her feet. She pressed her back against the door, the cold glass keeping the uncomfortable heat rushing through her body from overwhelming her. ‘When did you—?’

She couldn’t even say the word. Not after what Mae’s dad had put her mum through all those years ago. Mae knew the hurt, and had repeated her dad’s mistakes anyway. Paige felt panic rising in her throat. Was a failing like that in the blood? Could it not be helped?

‘A while back,’ Mae said.

‘Does he know?’

‘Yeah.’ Mae started pacing. ‘Dammit! He’ll hate that I told you.’

‘But why?’

‘Because it’s nobody’s business but ours.’

Paige felt as if she’d been slapped. And the cold of the day had nothing on the chill sealing her emotions. Her voice was cool as she said, ‘I meant, why did you cheat.’

But Mae was in such a state, Paige wasn’t sure she’d even been heard.

Finally Mae stopped pacing and looked down the street. She tucked her hair behind her ears only for the wind to whip it back out sideways again. ‘I told you because you need to know that no relationship is perfect. Not even the ones that might seem all rosy on the outside. And sometimes relationships can be imperfect and still be special and magical. Clint and I know each other’s weaknesses and love one another anyway. There’s an amazing comfort in that. Like whatever comes our way we know we can handle it. Together.’

Paige suddenly had a raging headache. Thumbs at her temples, eyes squinting, she said, ‘Look, do you mind if we do this another day?’

‘Sure,’ Mae said, sliding her hands into the pockets of her coat as she stared hard at her shoes. ‘There’s no rush. Besides, Clint might not even recognise me if I walked down the aisle in white heels.’

At that it all became too much. Without another word, Paige headed off down the street. Her feet felt numb. Her head a mess. Her stomach as if it were trying to turn itself inside out.

She heard Mae’s voice trail after her. ‘Tell him! Tell him how you feel, Paige. You’ll only regret it if you don’t. Believe me.’

Paige just kept on walking.

And with every footfall she knew Mae was right about one thing. She couldn’t hide her feelings any more. She had to tell Gabe how she felt.

Not because she’d regret it if she didn’t but because he was a good man who always tried to do the right thing. She’d tell him because he needed to know how brilliant he was. She’d tell him because not telling was lying, and she never wanted to hurt him as Mae had hurt Clint.

And she’d tell him because if she ever had any chance of making a life for herself, one that wasn’t defined by mistakes other people made, it was now.