Читать книгу The Bad Boy's Redemption: Too Much of a Good Thing? / Her Last Line of Defence / Her Hard to Resist Husband - Joss Wood, Marie Donovan - Страница 10

THREE

Will turned into the driveway Lu indicated and parked in front of the huge iron gate as she scrabbled in her bag for her keys. He looked through the bars of the gate to the huge, sprawling house with its deep, wraparound veranda and nodded his approval. With a haphazard garden and pitched roof, it looked as a house should—homely and lived in. Big.

Will looked through the gap between the house and the garage and caught a glimpse of the sea. ‘This is home?’

‘Yep,’ Lu said. ‘Thanks for the lift and for coming to the police station with me. You were a lot calmer than Mak would’ve been.’

‘He probably would’ve shouted at you the whole time,’ Will stated calmly.

‘He did go a bit berserk, didn’t he? Sorry about that.’

Will’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. ‘He’s crazy about you. How long have you been together?’

Lu sent him a puzzled look. ‘We’re not. Why would you think that?’

Oh, maybe the fact that he kissed you on your mouth, whirled you around and wouldn’t stop touching you! Freaking big clues!

‘My mistake,’ Will said aloud, but he wasn’t convinced. And that wasn’t jealousy he felt. It couldn’t be. He didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t jealousy.

‘He used to live next door to us and we remained friends when he moved. Mak is just...intense. Protective of me. He adores me, but we’re only friends,’ Lu explained as the gate slid open.

Yeah, and rugby isn’t a contact sport, Will thought as he drove up the circular driveway to her front door. She might think they were only friends, but he was a man and he knew how men acted and thought. How could Mak not want to sleep with her? She was gorgeous! A natural beauty with those incredible eyes...

‘I saw the look on your face...you think that Mak was irresponsible because he lost track of me.’

He couldn’t deny it.

Lu sighed. ‘He isn’t—not really. He just has a lot on his plate, and when he gets time to step away, to socialise, he goes at it full tilt. And I’m not the type of girl that needs to be looked after...Mak knew that I wanted to go home and I knew that he wanted to stay. I’ve left him behind at many functions, so he wouldn’t have thought it unusual. I have taxi companies on speed dial.’

Will just lifted his eyebrows and looked unconvinced.

His mobile rang. He pressed a button on the steering wheel to activate the hands free and greeted his caller. Lu felt that she should give him some privacy to take his call and tried to get out of the car, but his hand on her arm kept her firmly in place.

Through the car speakers somebody whose name she didn’t catch was talking about that afternoon’s press conference and Lu listened as Will was briefed on the questions he could expect.

‘And obviously there will be the usual questions about your ex-wife.’

‘Yeah, OK, I’m so happy to answer those!’ Will barked, obviously frustrated.

She didn’t need a degree in sarcasm to realise that he really didn’t want to answer any questions on his old life, ex-wife and their marriage.

‘Jo’s blonde, gorgeous and successful. You’re handsome, talented and successful. She’s still single. So are you. You were once married and everyone still wants to know what happened to your marriage,’ the voice replied calmly. ‘The press know there’s a story there and they want it.’

‘They can all get...’ Will shot Lu a look and swallowed the word he wanted to use. ‘Stuffed. As per normal, Jo and anything to do with her is off the table, not open for discussion. It was all so long ago you’d think they’d get over it.’

With Will’s hand still holding her arm, Lu stayed where she was and thought that they couldn’t be more different if they tried. Like Mak, like her parents, even her brothers, Will was a breed apart. One of those successful, innately confident, very-sure-of-their-niche-in-the-world people.

She wanted to be like that.

She didn’t have a niche. Her place—her space—had been ripped away when her parents died, and two weeks ago when her brothers had left it had shifted again.

After a decade of the twins being the centre of her world she was alone, and she had to live in this empty house without the daily responsibility of being their guardian. No more suppers to cook, errands to run, parties to keep an eye on. For the first time in her life she wasn’t defined by her relationship to her popular parents and her orphaned twin brothers.

Isolation and loneliness kept creeping closer, and she frequently felt ill-equipped to cope with a life that didn’t have the twins in it. If she wasn’t careful she could slide over the edge into self-pity, and from there it was a slippery slope to depression. She couldn’t—refused—to let that happen.

She had to do something about her life, and quickly. After everything that life had thrown at her so far she refused to buckle under because she was alone and feeling at sea. That was why she’d agreed to go clubbing with Mak. She’d realised that she had to get out of the house, out of her own head. The boys were right. She had to start living her life.

Of course getting her drink spiked was an embarrassing start.

It had been a tough decade, she admitted as Will lifted his hand from her arm and carried on with his conversation. She had just started exploring her options for a career when she’d been catapulted without warning into caring for the twins. With the inheritance covering her basic costs she’d run around her brothers, caught up in making their world as secure as she possibility could, determined that they wouldn’t feel as lost, as alone and as scared as she did. She’d kept herself and them active and busy in order to keep the grief at bay, and while she’d tried to keep up with her photography she hadn’t been able to give it the dedication it required for her to succeed. Somewhere along the way she’d stopped thinking about herself, her place in the world and what excited her.

Who was she? Lu was terrified to realise that she hadn’t the slightest clue. It was OK, she told herself. She had time to figure it all out. She just needed a plan.

‘Sorry about that.’ Will’s voice pulled her back to the present. ‘Lu? Are you OK?’

Lu blinked and focused on his face. Will, so very up close and personal, was even more mouth-wateringly, panty-crumpling, breath-hitchingly gorgeous than any photo anywhere. He wasn’t perfect—that would be far too intimidating—and she liked his flaws as much as she liked the rest of the package. Creases at the corner of those warm eyes, and his deep brown hair was, sadly, six inches too short. He had stubby eyelashes and untamed brows and a slash of a nose.

‘Do you want me to come in with you? Are you going to be OK?’ Will asked.

‘I’ve taken far too much of your time already,’ Lu replied, glad to hear that her voice was reasonably steady. ‘Thank you for all your help. As I said, I am in your debt.’

Will’s eyes tracked over her face. ‘If you start remembering anything and you have questions you’re welcome to give me a call at the rugby union. They’ll make sure that I get the message and I’ll get back to you.’

It was a nice offer, Lu thought, noticing that he didn’t give her his mobile number. She wasn’t that out of practice that she didn’t recognise the gentle brush-off. He wouldn’t call again and she could live with that.

After all, she had her own life to get back on track. She didn’t need the distraction of a super-sexy rugby player.

But, damn, how she wished they had had sex. Just one little time and preferably of the blow-your-head-off variety. Just to...you know...clean those cobwebs out...

* * *

Two days later Lu sat on the floor between her leather couch and her coffee table, her laptop in front of her. She was updating her website in an effort to attract more photography work and thought she’d made pretty good progress. The site was hipper and brighter than before, and she liked the photos she’d put on the front page. There was the Johnsons’ newborn baby, stark naked with a bright blue bow tied around his tummy and a tag that read ‘Special Delivery’. Below that was her favourite photograph of a bridal couple, caught in a loving look so profound it made her throat catch every time she looked at it.

She was good at it, she mused. Capable of capturing the essence of the moment. And now that she had the time to devote to it she realised how much she missed being behind a camera. She’d tried to establish herself as a photographer a couple of times over the past decade, but every opportunity had fizzled out. She’d been offered an apprenticeship under one of the better photographers in the city about a year after her parents had died, but when she’d realised that after-hours work and out-of-town shoots were a standard condition of her employment she’d resigned because she had to be at home for the twins.

She’d done small weddings, worked part-time in a photographic studio before it had closed down six months ago, and done some freelance graphic work, but she hadn’t, because of her family situation, been able to land her big break. Her fellow students from photography school were flying and she was ten years behind.

It wouldn’t take much to kick-start her business. She had a studio already outfitted in the cottage next to the main house: lights, props and backgrounds. She just needed the clients to get back on track; she had to make up for all this lost time.

Her mobile buzzed on the floor next to her and she frowned at the unfamiliar number. Debating whether to answer it, she took a sip of wine and wondered whether she felt like speaking to anyone. You’re becoming a hermit, she chided herself as she pushed the green button. Six steps away from becoming that self-conversing, crazy cat lady the twins mentioned.

‘Lu? It’s Will Scott.’

Lu’s eyebrows shot up as her mouth dried up. Of all the people she’d expected to be on the other end of the call Will was last on her list.

‘Um...hi...’

‘I called to see how you were doing? Whether you had any lasting effects from the drug?’

‘No, I’m fine.’

‘Nightmares?’ Will demanded.

‘One or two,’ Lu admitted. ‘Normally when I let myself think about what could’ve happened. Uh...how did you get my number?’

Lu swore that she heard his lips pull up into that super-sexy grin. ‘I swiped one of your business cards from your wallet. I see that you freelance...how’s the photography business?’

‘Slow, actually. I was just updating my site and racking my brain about how to get more clients. How’s the rugby coaching business?’

Will’s sigh was a combination of frustration and weariness. ‘Honestly? Right now it’s a pain in my ass. I have some squad members who have the maturity of a two-year-old.’

Lu leaned back against the couch and took a sip from her glass of wine, happy to hear his voice sliding over her. Her mouth curved. ‘They’ll get used to you.’

‘They don’t have a choice,’ Will stated, his tone resolute. ‘It’s either my way or the highway.’

‘So you’re a dictator?’ Lu teased, and then bit her lip. Lord, what was she saying? She didn’t know him nearly well enough to tease him!

‘Only in my job. I know what I want and exactly how I intend to get it.’

So sure, so confident. She wished she could rub herself against him and have some of that innate self-assuredness rub off on her. Oh, hell, forget anything else, she just wanted to rub up against him, full-stop. He set her nerve-endings on fire... This is why you shouldn’t go so long between dates, Sheppard! When your hormones are invited to a party they head straight for the tequilas and start doing the Macarena.

‘Well, I’ll be rooting for you,’ Lu said, after a longer than normal silence.

‘Thanks,’ Will replied. ‘It’s nearly seven. I’ve been here since six this morning. Any ideas for where I can eat? I can’t face Room Service or takeout.’

‘Are you going to live in that hotel for three months?’ Lu asked.

‘Hell, no. I need to find a flat I can rent, but I haven’t had any time. I’m planning to look around on the weekend.’

‘So...restaurants. What do you feel like eating?’

‘Mac and cheese,’ Will responded promptly.

‘Mac and cheese, huh?’ Lu looked towards the kitchen that sat at the other end of her open-plan lounge. Did she dare? What if he said no? She was mad. Of course he’d say no. But there was a chance—a numpty billion-to-one chance—that he might say yes.

And, because her mother had raised her right, she should do something to say thank you. Yeah, keep telling yourself that’s the reason you are about to invite him over. You might convince yourself in a millennia...or two.

Pull on your brave girl panties, Sheppard.

‘If you’re interested, I can do one better than mac and cheese. I have a lasagne that I made and froze. I can whip up a salad to go with it if you...well, don’t feel obligated...but I feel like dinner is the least I can do for you since you... Um...you’d probably prefer to eat out,’ Lu stammered.

‘Lu?’

‘Mmm? Yes?’ He was going to blow her off. She just knew it.

‘Homemade lasagne sounds really great.’

‘Ah...OK. Good.’ Lu closed her eyes. Eek! Now she would actually have to defrost the lasagne and make a salad. And have a shower and do something with her hair...

‘I could be there in half an hour? That work for you?’

‘Sure.’ She’d prefer an hour to primp, but that wasn’t going to happen. Well, as per usual, make-up would be sacrificed.

‘Do you remember how to get here?’ she asked, almost reluctant to let him disconnect even though she’d see him soon.

‘I have a pretty good sense of direction, but keep your phone close in case I go off course,’ Will told her. ‘What is Lu short for, by the way?’

‘Um...don’t laugh.’ Lu blushed. ‘Tallulah.’

‘Tallulah?’

His tongue caressed her name and Lu shivered.

‘Lu suits you better. See you soon.’

* * *

As Will pushed the button on the intercom outside Lu’s closed gate he thought that the heat and humidity of Durban were obviously frying his brain. What did he think he was going to achieve from this visit apart from, obviously, some homemade pasta? Lu had crossed his mind more than once over the last few days but he’d be lying if he said it was only because he was worried about her, worried that the date-rape drug might have had a side effect that neither of them, nor the hospital doctors, knew about. He’d been thinking about her and, unusually, not just as someone he wanted to get into bed.

‘Why don’t you try being friends with a woman instead?’

Kelby’s words from last week kept popping in and out of his head, quickly followed by a flash of Lu’s freckled face, her sea-coloured eyes. For the first time in for ever he could see himself being friends with a woman—being friends with Lu. Sure, he was attracted to her. But from the little he’d seen of her he really liked her as well. She seemed unconcerned about who he was and what he did.

She was, he decided, refreshing.

He was in a new country, trying out a new type of job. Maybe he should try something different when it came to the opposite sex too.

Will felt himself relaxing as her gate rolled open and he steered the SUV up the long driveway. A change is as good as a holiday, he thought, pulling to a stop.

Then why did his heart thump when he saw her standing by the open front door, dressed in a similar outfit to the one she’d changed into in his hotel room—a pair of white cotton shorts and a teal tank top with thin straps that showed off an inch of her flat belly? He lifted his hand as he left the car and patted two dogs of indeterminate breed, sliding a hot glance at those long, tanned legs and bare feet tipped with fire red toenails.

Friends. New approach. Don’t let your libido distract you. It had, as he well remembered, led him into far too much trouble before.

‘Hi.’ Lu lifted her glass. ‘I started without you. Want one?’

‘Hi, back.’ Will waved the bottle he held in his hand as he walked up the two stone steps to the door. He brushed past a pot plant and his nose was filled with the scent of sweet lemons. The bigger of the dogs nudged his hand and Lu grinned. ‘Harry, stop it!’

‘Harry?’

‘Potter’s behind you. The cat’s are Dumbel and Dore.’

Nice place, Will thought as he stepped into a huge hall and Lu closed the door behind him. She took the bottle he held out. He searched her face, happy to see some colour in her cheeks, less blue under her eyes. Lu dropped her eyes from his and Will looked around. A coat rack stood next to the door and a large antique credenza squatted next to the wall, photographs in silver frames crowding its surface. A massive vase of haphazard flowers stood on a narrow high table, and the wall in front of him was dominated by two oversized canvas photographs of two young boys, their faces a chocolate smear.

‘My brothers,’ Lu explained as he stepped up to look at the photographs. ‘Come through this way. I thought we’d eat on the veranda.’

Will followed Lu through a huge kitchen and his mouth started to water at the smell of garlicky, herby, meaty pasta. The kitchen flowed into a large, messy lounge with battered leather couches, a laptop on a big coffee table and a large screen television. Oversized glass and wooden doors led onto a wraparound veranda, which had its own set of couches, a casual dining table and an incredible view over the city to the Indian Ocean.

‘I want to live here,’ Will muttered, placing the bottle on the table and dropping his mobile and keys next to it.

‘Yeah, the view is pretty impressive.’ Lu deftly poured wine into the empty glass on the table and handed it over.

Will sat down in the closest chair and tried to ignore the buzz in his pants when Lu sat down opposite him and folded her legs up under her butt. He pulled his eyes from that expanse of bare leg, looked around and liked what he saw. The house was huge, filled with old, once expensive furniture and eclectic art.

‘I love your house,’ Will said, after sipping his wine. ‘I’m crazy about buildings. Built in the thirties?’

‘1931 and inspired by the times: Art Deco rules. It was my grandparents’ and then my father’s,’ Lu explained. ‘My grandmother did all the stained-glass panels above the windows and next to the front door. My grandfather collected the furniture.’

He’d noticed the furniture on his walk-through, and now glanced through the open veranda doors into the lounge. He saw another set of canvas photographs: black and white, like the others in the hall, and brimming with emotion and energy. ‘Mind if I take a look?’

Lu shrugged. ‘Go ahead.’

The first canvas was of a fantastically, lushly beautiful woman, dressed in a corset and fishnet stockings, a walking cane across her ample chest. She had more curves than a mountain pass and, while her face was partially covered by the brim of a top hat, her expression radiated fun and excitement and raw sensuality.

He moved to the other photograph: a long, lanky man, lying in a hammock, a beer bottle in his hand and his eyes—Lu’s eyes—half closed. A golfing magazine lay face-down on his stomach.

* * *

Sexy, successful, attractive. Everything she wasn’t right now, Lu thought as she watched Will take a closer look at the photographs.

Everything she’d ever wanted to be but didn’t know how. The embodiment of what a successful life looked like.

His looks were an added bonus, she thought, but his success and the material wealth that came along with it was all his own, created by hard work. His hard work and dedication. How she envied him that—envied the fact that whatever he had, and she knew it was a lot, he could say that he’d earned it. Unlike her every possession, including her photography equipment, which came from the massive inheritance her parents had left behind.

An inheritance that would have been non-existent if her parents had died a couple of weeks later than they had. It had been a standard joke between them that there were many millions of reasons to bump the other off...and it was fascinatingly ironic that they’d died together, victims of an out-of-control articulated vehicle.

If they’d lived this house would have been a distant memory for her—sold to pay off the overdraft, the credit cards, the personal loans. At the time of their death they’d been, as Lu had later discovered, living on fresh air and the last couple of thousand on her father’s credit cards. The car and credit card payments hadn’t been made in months; the utilities bills had been late.

Sorting through the financial mess had been a nightmare on top of the horror of losing them. It was probably the biggest secret she’d kept from the twins: that they wouldn’t be enjoying such a privileged lifestyle if their parents had lived.

But her parents’ secret remained exactly that; she’d never told a living soul and would never tell the twins. One person feeling guilty and conflicted about the lifestyle of their family was enough. She didn’t need to burden them with that information; it was, as she well knew, a heavy load to carry.

The flip and very selfish side of that coin was that if her parents were still around they might not have anything like the material wealth surrounding them now, but she’d be supporting herself—working...contributing. She would be on a career path, settled and established. Maybe not rich, like Will, but comfortable, secure. Fulfilled because her security came from the sweat of her own brow and not because her parents had rushed off to a meeting with their bank manager and ended up under the chassis of a ten-ton truck.

So she was ten years behind? It wasn’t as if she was old and past her prime. She was young and fit and determined...and she had time. So what if most women her age were thinking about moving onto the next stage of their lives—marriage and babies? That was their life, not hers.

She’d catch up...she had to. In the couple of weeks since the boys had left she’d been clubbing—she was deliberately ignoring the issue of the spiked drink—she’d worked on her website, sorted out her studio and looked into dance classes.

She’d even invited a man around for dinner.

That was progress, wasn’t it?

Will walked back onto the veranda and leaned against the balcony. ‘Your parents?’

Lu nodded and sipped her wine. ‘My mother was a cabaret artiste and performer, my father a golf pro.’

‘Was?’

‘They’re dead. Car accident. Ten years ago,’ Lu said in a monotone, and she didn’t know that pain flickered in and out of her eyes.

Will winced. ‘Damn, I’m sorry about that. Did you take the photos?’

Lu nodded. ‘I took them shortly before they died; they were supposed to be used in an assignment I had due.’

Lu steeled herself. He’d ask about their death now; people always wanted to know the details.

‘And is photography your passion? Your business?’

When Lu recovered from her surprise at his change of subject she focused on the question. Her passion? Absolutely. Her business? She didn’t know. Could she even call herself a photographer? She didn’t have much of a reputation, didn’t have that much of a portfolio, and hardly any experience. Did updating her website and looking for new business mean that she was actually in business?

Well, she wasn’t a pseudo-mommy any more, so maybe she was.

She touched a camera that sat on the table next to her. ‘I always have one close by so I suppose it must be. Is rugby yours?’

‘My passion and my business? Absolutely.’

Will placed his ankle on his knee and Lu wondered why he made her skin prickle. Her veranda was spacious, but he made it seem smaller, cosier. Lu tried to put her finger on what he made her feel. Alive, she realised with a shock.

He made her feel alive. And that she mattered.

Dangerous thoughts, Lu, you need to switch gears. What had they been talking about? Rugby...

Lu’s eyes shot up, sharpened and collided with his. ‘Oh, and on the subject of photography and rugby, who took that photo of you for the Rays’ webpage?’

‘You looked up our webpage?’ Will asked, his mouth twitching with amusement.

Lu blushed, caught out. ‘I was...it just popped up.’ Oh, she was such a rotten liar. ‘Anyway...that photo of you? Who took it?’

‘What’s wrong with the photo?’ he asked, amused at her indignation.

‘What’s right with it? It’s shocking! The light is wrong, there are shadows, you look older than you are...exhausted. Geez, a ten-year-old with a point-and-shoot could’ve done a better job,’ Lu stated, her embarrassment and awkwardness temporarily banished as she spoke about her work.

‘Photography is so your passion. Why do you doubt it?’

Lu blinked at him, nonplussed as she thought about his question. Because right now she doubted everything about herself.

Will saved her from making a coherent reply when he continued in his smooth, deep voice, ‘Think you can do better?’

Lu’s eyes sparked with indignation. ‘I know I can do better.’

Lu didn’t pick up the tongue Will placed in his cheek. ‘I think the photographer was one of the most reputable in Durban.’

‘Well, I’d demand a refund.’ Lu sniffed. ‘Shoddy work.’

Will gestured to the camera with his wine glass. ‘Prove it.’

‘What?’

‘I’m a tough subject—the least photogenic person in the world.’

That was like saying that Ryan Reynolds wasn’t sexy. ‘You?’

‘Why do you think I keep endorsement deals and modelling work to a minimum? I suck at camera work.’ Will motioned to the camera. ‘Do your worst. Actually, do your best. Take a photo of me that’s better than the one on the website; God knows I need it.’

Lu narrowed her eyes at him and couldn’t resist the challenge in his eyes. Without breaking his stare she reached for her camera, flipped it on by touch and lifted it to her face. She adjusted the light filters, the focus, and fiddled with the settings, and then her finger was on the button and his image flew to the memory card.

There was so much she was unsure of but this she knew. Lighting, framing, capturing, Lu slid into the zone. She knew how to pull an image together, to capture the light on his face, the glint in his eyes, the tiny dimple in his cheek.

She might not know him, but through her camera she caught a glimpse of his soul.

And somehow, very strangely, she felt that she recognised it.