Читать книгу Holiday With The Millionaire - Scarlet Wilson, Scarlet Wilson - Страница 10

CHAPTER FOUR

HE MUST BE CRAZY. Why on earth had he invited Lara out for the day?

Sure, she was cute. Sure, they had to share a house for the next two weeks. But that didn’t mean he had to try and be her new best friend.

But there had been something about her. When she’d been telling him about her ex and the pain had been etched in her eyes. The guy was clearly a fool.

He’d cringed last night when she’d asked him why Addison didn’t like him. He tried his best not to think about that night at all. But Lara had seemed placated when he’d padded out his story with a little detail.

Too bad he’d left the biggest detail out.

Caleb had shrugged off what had happened between them. He knew how damaged Reuben had been by his parents’ relationship. But Addison had no idea. He still wasn’t Mr Popular with her.

She probably didn’t even know that Caleb had invited him to stay here.

He finished sending a few emails as Lara walked into the kitchen. She was wearing a pink sequined T-shirt, a pair of hip-hugging blue jeans, black heeled boots and a fitted bright pink raincoat.

Her hair was soft and shiny and hanging in waves around her shoulders. She walked across the kitchen, smiling, pulled a pink lipstick from her pocket and painted it on her lips. ‘Reuben, what exactly did you plan today? I should remind you, I’m not exactly a sports fan.’

He laughed. ‘It will be fine, I promise. I need to visit one of the nearby football stadiums but I’ll be less than half an hour. Then we can sort out some food and anything else you need to buy.’

She gave a thoughtful nod. ‘I might have left some of my things behind.’

‘Things like what?’

She sighed. ‘My whole summer wardrobe. Just about everything I need to put in my case for my holiday is still at the flat. It’s ready to be picked up. It’s all sitting in another case.’

He blinked. ‘No problem. We’ll swing by later and you can collect it.’

Panic streaked across her face. ‘But... I don’t think... I’m not sure...’

‘Calm down.’ He reached over and took her hand, trying to ignore the little pulses he could feel in his palm, ‘I’ll go and get your things.’

Her eyes widened, flooding with relief. ‘You will?’

How on earth could he say no? ‘Of course I will. No problem.’

He picked up his car keys. ‘Now, can we go?’

* * *

For some strange reason the car seemed to be parting the traffic in London. Lara had never managed to get through the London streets so quickly—but, then again, she’d never been in a car like this one before either. The dark red colour alone seemed to command attention but it was so low, so sleek against the road that she wondered if she’d ever be able to get out again.

Reuben handled the car with ease. In the streets of London she would be terrified to drive a hundred yards but he took every corner without a second thought, pulling up outside the vast stadium only thirty minutes later.

He signalled to her to get out and she climbed out, looking up at the glass-fronted stadium. ‘Come on, I won’t be long,’ he said, as he walked into the reception area, waving at the reception staff. ‘Lydia, Carrie, where’s the chairman?’

‘Downstairs in the changing rooms. He’s talking to the manager.’

Reuben gave a casual wave and opened a door to a flight of stairs. Lara struggled to keep up with his long strides, almost running to keep up as he turned corner after corner through a warren of tunnels underneath the club.

He paused outside one of the doors. ‘Wait here,’ he said, smiling. ‘Don’t want you to see anything you shouldn’t.’ He disappeared through the door.

She sighed and leaned against the concrete wall. This wasn’t exactly her idea of fun. How long would this take?

A few seconds later there were shouts and one of the footballers came stomping along the corridor. His eyes only briefly brushed over her before he pulled his top over his head and banged through the changing-room door.

She sucked in a deep breath. Footballers were known for being temperamental, weren’t they?

A few seconds later the door opened and another footballer came out. This time he had a hint of smile about his face. Which was just as well, since he wasn’t wearing much. Lara sucked in an even deeper breath than before and fixed her eyes on her hands. This guy slammed through another door with ‘Physio’ emblazoned across it.

Then came another, then another, each man wearing a little less than the one before.

Did the players always walk around here practically naked? She had about a hundred friends who would think this a fabulous dream. Pity she wasn’t one of them.

Lara focused on her fingernails. They weren’t great. When was the last time she’d taken time out for a manicure? It had been on her to-do list. It would need to move further up. There was another bang. She couldn’t possibly ignore it.

Her chin bounced off the floor. It was the team’s star mega-million-pound footballer, with painted-on sculpted abs, a pair of teeny-weeny white tight briefs and the best spray tan she’d ever seen. His eyes looked her up and down lasciviously, making her stomach roll over—and not in a good way. His ego was so big there was barely room for the rest of him.

‘Hey, baby,’ he said, as he slid along the corridor towards her.

She gulped. Oh, no. Her worst nightmare. She was so out of her depth right now.

The door opened behind her and an arm slid around her shoulder. ‘Chris, are you being a prat again?’ He turned towards her. ‘Sorry, Lara, I should have warned you about these guys. If there are any females around they like to do walk-bys with each one wearing less than the previous one. Ignore them.’ Reuben had a wet towel in his hand and he flicked it at Chris, who leapt into the air like a big girl.

‘Ouch!’ He rubbed his thigh and stormed back into the changing room, muttering expletives under his breath.

Lara shook her head. ‘You’re joking—that’s what they do?’

Reuben nodded. ‘Every time. They can’t help it. The average mental age around here is about twelve.’

He hadn’t moved his arm from her shoulders and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it. Exactly how many women did he bring here with him—and why did that matter to her? ‘Can we get out of here now?’

He smiled. A white straight-toothed smile that reached all the way to those big brown eyes she was currently staring up into. It was odd. But it was one of the most genuine smiles she’d seen. Before, he’d been amused by her or he’d been sarcastic. This time it felt real and it sent a little wave of pulses skittering over her skin. Just what she needed while her brain was mush.

She gave a little shudder and put her head down as they walked down the corridor. But Reuben stopped. ‘Hey, what is it?’

Her footsteps had stopped but she hadn’t lifted her head. He stepped in front of her, his fingers reaching down and tilting her chin up towards him.

It seemed such a personal touch—an almost intimate touch. Or as intimate as you could be in a place filled with staff while you were fully clothed. ‘What’s wrong, Lara?’

It was the way he said her name. That Irish lilt that was guaranteed to turn any woman’s legs to jelly. This guy could be Colin Farrell’s brother.

Her body wanted to tremble. But she wouldn’t let it. No way. No, sir.

She lifted her eyes to meet his. ‘Let’s just say I have an image from yesterday imprinted permanently on my brain. It keeps flashing back in there when it’s least wanted.’

He gave a visible shudder. She didn’t need to give an explicit description. He knew exactly what she was getting at.

He swung his arm back around her shoulders. ‘It’s time to move things on. Let’s go and collect the stuff you need for your summer holidays and that way you’re done—finished. For ever. You can forget about the loser and look forward to your holiday.’

He guided her back along the corridor. ‘I meant to ask—where are you going on holiday anyway?’

He pushed the door open and held it for her. ‘I’m booked to go on a cruise,’ she sighed. ‘I always wanted to cruise around the Med so I saved all my spare pennies for it.’ She waved her hand. ‘And if you’re going to cruise, you need the clothes for it.’

He smiled as if an idea had just blossomed in his brain. ‘You certainly do. Where does the ship sail to?’

She was starting to feel a little more comfortable around Reuben. Talking about travelling meant that they were on neutral ground. Small talk was about all she could handle right now. She smiled. ‘Everywhere I’ve always wanted to visit—Barcelona, Monte Carlo, Pisa, Marseille, Sicily.’ A little edge came to her voice. ‘I’m not going to let him spoil it for me.’

Reuben nodded. ‘And we won’t. Let’s get this over and done with.’

* * *

If someone had sat him down before he’d boarded the flight to London and told him what his next twenty-four hours would be like he wouldn’t have believed them. Not for a second.

He rapped the door of the Camden flat once again, glancing down to the street to where his car was idling. Even from here he could see Lara’s hands turning over and over in her lap.

There was a noise—a grunt—and the door finally opened.

Reuben blinked. Really? Lara was definitely hovering around a ten. This guy? He was lucky if he was a four. What’s more, he could almost smell the arrogance coming from him. His fingers automatically balled into fists.

‘Who are you?’ said Mr Barely Dressed. That paunch really wasn’t attractive. There was a tittering noise behind him. Great. The neighbour was still hanging around.

‘I’m a friend of Lara’s. I’m here to pick up the rest of her stuff.’

The guy’s brow furrowed. ‘A friend of Lara’s? I’ve never met you before.’

‘And you’ll never meet me again. Now, she wants her case with her summer clothes in it. Give it to me and we’ll be on our way.’

Now the guy looked really pleased with himself. ‘Well, it’s too late. I flung the rest of her stuff out of the flat yesterday after she stormed out. The bin men have already been.’ He folded his arms across his chest.

‘You what?’ He couldn’t stop himself. He had Mr Smarmy pinned against the wall in an instant. ‘You did what?’

The guy panicked. ‘Well, she was gone. And it’s not like she’ll be coming back. Why would I want to keep her stuff?’

Reuben shook his head. ‘It’s not bad enough you got caught in bed with another woman, you didn’t even give Lara the chance to collect all her things. How dare you?’

The guy was still against the wall but he lifted his hands, doing his best impression of a shrug. ‘Well, she was screaming and shouting yesterday. Calling me all kinds of names. There was no way she’d be back.’

A woman appeared at his elbow, holding a phone in her hand. ‘If you don’t get out of here now I’m calling the police.’ She turned her nose up in a sneer. ‘Tell Lara she’s not welcome here.’

There was so much he could say. His temper was bubbling just beneath the surface. What a pair of low-lives. The woman was running her eyes up and down his body. It made him feel positively unclean. Both of them did.

He could feel adrenaline surging within him, closely followed by a red mist descending. Just like he had the night he’d punched out Caleb. Was it any wonder Addison didn’t like him? He flinched. He didn’t want to be that guy any more. He was trying not to be that guy any more.

He released his grip on the guy and looked at him in disgust. ‘You two deserve each other. Lara’s worth ten of you.’

He turned on his heel, ignoring the shouts that followed him. The guy made him mad. The girl made him mad. Their utter disrespect of Lara made him mad. How had she ended mixed up with these two?

He strode back to the car, jumped inside and slammed the door, not thinking for a second about what he was going to say to her.

Her eyes widened at the expression on his face and she stared at his empty hands. ‘Didn’t you get my stuff?’

It was the wide-eyed innocence that made his stomach curl in knots. On a few fleeting moments Lara had appeared quite street savvy, but right now? He felt as if he were just about to grab her heart between both hands and squeeze hard.

She’d already told him she’d saved hard for her dream holiday—and from what he’d seen he could take a guess that the guy upstairs hadn’t contributed at all. Just how much would it cost her to replace her entire summer holiday wardrobe?

‘I’m picking your stuff up later,’ he said quickly.

He turned the car onto the main road. ‘Now, let’s go and food shop.’

* * *

She wasn’t quite sure when the house burglar turned into her kind of guardian angel. All she knew was thirty minutes after telling her they’d pick up her clothes later he pulled his sleek car up outside one of the most famous department stores in London with its gold and green sign.

Reuben walked around and opened the door for her. Her head flicked from side to side. ‘You can’t leave your car here...’

Her voice trailed off as a uniformed man slid into the driver’s seat and the car mysteriously disappeared.

He smiled at the expression on her face and gestured towards the door. ‘Let’s hit the food court. We need to buy supplies.’

She watched the dark red car disappear around the corner, shaking her head as he slung his arm back around her shoulders and steered her towards the entrance. ‘I didn’t even know they did that,’ she murmured.

‘What can I say? I’ve friends in high places.’

What on earth did that mean? She looked down at her clothes. Jeans and a pink t-shirt. And come to think of it her boots could do with a polish. If she’d known they were shopping in style she might have dressed up a little.

They walked down the stairs to the food court. Even two steps down the aroma of everything expensive came up to meet them.

Reuben was smiling already, crossing over to the glass display cabinet of fine meats and truffles and foie gras.

‘What do you like?’ he asked.

She wrinkled her nose. ‘Chicken.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Chicken?’ You’d think she’d sworn out loud.

She nodded. ‘Chicken. I like chicken.’

She looked around at the massive department.

‘And raspberry jam. And freshly baked bread—maybe a croissant or two. And some more bacon and eggs.’

Her legs had started walking, following her nose as she glanced from side to side.

‘I love the chocolate digestives from here, and the rose and violet shortbread— Oh...’ She spun round and put her hand on his chest. ‘And those tiny dark chocolates filled with orange. Now, where on earth will they be?’

He put one hand on his hip as people filed past. ‘We’re in one of the finest food stores and you want bacon. And eggs. And raspberry jam.’ His chest was right in front of her nose and now every time she breathed in she didn’t get the wonderful food aromas around her, she just got Reuben Tyler. Every masculine, woody scent of him. If she could sell that aftershave she’d never have to work again.

She breathed in, trying not to look like a teenager. Her hand was still resting on his chest. Through his thin T-shirt she could feel the warmth of his skin and the roughened hairs underneath the palm of her hand. Her brain tried to make sense of things.

This time yesterday she hadn’t known this man. She hadn’t even known he existed.

‘Chicken.’ The word came out of nowhere. ‘You forgot the chicken.’

She tilted her head and smiled up at him. Her nose was directly across from his chest. Too close for comfort really. Especially now she could see the tiny shadow along his jaw line. Why did her hand want to reach up and touch it?

His arm folded around her waist and he pulled her closer and spun her around as a large group of tourists swept past. He was looking down at her with those deep brown eyes. It was almost as if he knew she was a little mesmerised. Truth was, he must be used to it.

‘Didn’t want you to get trampled.’ He laughed as his accent played havoc with her senses. ‘And chicken.’ He shook his head again. ‘Let’s not forget the chicken.’

He reached behind her, his chin brushing against her hair, and plucked a thin cylindrical box from a stand. ‘Your orange creams, I suppose?’

She closed her hands around the tube. ‘Perfect.’

He paused. It was almost as if something else flitted past his brain. He was leaning over her, seeing every part of her up close and personal. If he tilted his chin down just a touch...

She wished she’d put on more make-up—heavier foundation instead of her usual tinted moisturiser. Longer-lasting lipstick rather than her light lip tint.

She could almost feel herself disintegrate under his gaze. What did he see? And how did she compare to what he was used to?

She tried to squeeze that thought from her mind. Why should she care? She barely knew him. So what if he’d just gone out of his way to help her? The truth was he was still invading the space she’d thought she would have for the next two weeks. Her skin was prickling under his intense gaze. There was a whole wave of sensations sweeping across her. And she couldn’t fathom any one of them.

Reuben gave a little shake and stepped back. It was almost as if nothing had happened. He pulled up a trolley next to them and started loading up his selection from the counter. He pointed to item after item and she blinked at the price tags. Chicken stuffed with haggis and wrapped in bacon. Chicken with chorizo and a tomato sauce. Chicken with peppered sauce and mushrooms all packaged up before her eyes. If she hadn’t been hungry before she was definitely hungry now.

And it seemed once Reuben started to shop he could do it like a pro. Sirloin steaks—enough to last the fortnight. More pepper sauce. Salad. Fresh bread, pastries and croissants. Her raspberry jam. Bacon, eggs and sausages. A whole heap of vegetables. Biscuits, chocolates and a really, really good-looking fresh cream gateau.

Lara looked at the groaning trolley and nudged him.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘I don’t think people really do their weekly shop in here,’ she whispered, her eyes taking in the other customers, who had maybe one or two items in their hands. ‘At this rate we’ll need to remortgage Caleb’s house for the food bill.’

He looked surprised. ‘I’m covering the food bill. Don’t worry. You didn’t expect me there and I should contribute something.’

He made it all sound so reasonable, while her purse was currently screaming out in relief. There was no way she could pay half of a bill like this. ‘Fancy a bottle of wine?’ he asked, as they walked further along.

She glanced at the nearest shelf. Two hundred pounds a bottle. ‘Er...no, thanks.’

He moved the trolley forward then stopped again. ‘It was rosé you were drinking last night, wasn’t it?’

He put three bottles in the trolley before she had a chance to answer, then he picked a bottle of red and one of white too. She could feel herself breaking out in a cold sweat at these prices. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t footing the bill.

She leaned forward and hissed in his ear, ‘Put those back. You can buy wine for less than ten pounds a bottle in the supermarket down the road.’

The corners of his lips turned up in amusement. He walked over to the nearest cash register and handed over his credit card without anything being run up. The cashier nodded, swiped it and handed it back, taking a note of the ticket for his car.

He slipped an arm around her back and led her to the stairs. Lara’s head was turned backwards, staring at the cashier. ‘Really? You don’t even put in your PIN?’

He shook his head. ‘I trust these people. By the time we want to leave the car will be loaded up and ready to go.’

She shook her head as she climbed the stairs. The jewellery section was right in front of them. ‘Let’s go upstairs for a coffee. Food shopping makes me hungry.’ Now, that she could agree with.

She wandered through the jewellery department—most of the jewellery didn’t have price tags, which told her everything she needed to know. While she didn’t know how much things actually cost, she could just do her little-girl-in-a-shop state of mind and pretend that they could all be hers.

She stopped suddenly and Reuben walked right into her. She hadn’t realised he was so close. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured.

He followed her eyeline to the side and pointed. ‘You’re looking at that?’ His face was screwed up in that a-guy-will-never-understand kind of way.

She nodded. ‘It’s gorgeous. It’s like something Cleopatra would wear.’ She moved a little closer but resisted the temptation to touch the glass. Interlocked flat panels of white, yellow and rose gold. One of the fashion magazines would probably describe it as a showstopper. And it was.

She moved further along and stopped and pointed at a large square-cut pink diamond surrounded by white diamonds. She was too scared to even breathe next to it. ‘Bet we’d really need to remortgage Caleb’s house for that.’