Читать книгу The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights: 6 Book Romance Collection - Jane Linfoot, Zara Stoneley - Страница 25

Maggie slept and slept and woke to find that, instead of being on a flight to London Heathrow, she was still in bed with Alex. Oops. They spent a languorous hour or two of Sunday making love, pausing to punctuate their love-fest with a delicious brunch courtesy of room service. For reasons of Britishness, Alex ordered scones with strawberry jam and cream especially for her.

“Afternoon tea for brunch?”

Alex picked up his watch from the bedside table and checked the time. “It is afternoon.”

“You need to keep your strength up.” With a smirk on her face she spooned a dollop of cream onto a halved, jam-spread scone and passed it to him. She’d taken up residence in the middle of Alex’s big bed and, wrapped in a bed-sheet toga, she sat cross-legged, scoffing scones and feeling no inclination whatsoever to budge. She didn’t care that they were making crumbs.

“You did put out the do-not-disturb sign, didn’t you?” she asked for the umpteenth time.

“Check.” he replied, without impatience.

He downed his last scone half, and gulped from a teacup in a not-so-genteel manner. “I’m going to take a shower. Care to join me?”

She shook her head. She watched his smooth brown back disappear into the bathroom without her. She took in his height and the breadth of his shoulders with a touch of awe.

Abandoning her sheet toga she ventured off her bed island and snatched up Alex’s discarded I Heart NY tee from the night of the premiere. She put it on. It swamped her. She gathered a fistful of fabric, pressed it to her nose and inhaled the manly-spiced scent he’d left behind.

She wandered barefoot into the sitting room. In spite of the scone feast, she was ravenous. She chose a green apple from a fruit bowl on the coffee table and plonked herself on the sofa, legs tucked up under her on the cushions. She bit into the apple. It hit her taste buds with a fusion of sweetness and tang. She set it on the coffee table and picked up the laptop.

Quickly she typed Alex Wells and New York. The search brought up a stack of hits.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” She uttered the words between hyperventilating breaths as she clicked on the first one, then the second, and the third. It was the biggest shock seeing herself on a celebrity lifestyle page described as “Cinderella of New York City”.

Fresh from the bathroom Alex walked into the room. A towel wrapped tantalizingly around his waist, he rubbed at his wet hair with another one, pushing dark strands that had fallen across one eye out of his face.

She made to close the screen. Too quick for her, he peered over her shoulder, halting her action by reaching over and closing his hand over hers. “Catching up on celebrity gossip?”

She picked up the apple, took another bite, and gulped. “Uh-huh.” She ate the last mouthfuls of her apple and tossed the core into a bin.

“Anything interesting?” The rumble of his voice and his half-naked body ignited new sparks of desire in her.

“Not really.” She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice as she added lightly, “Just some guy who plays a TV vampire, or something.”

Alex massaged her neck. “What about him?”

“He’s been bonking his stylist.” He rounded the sofa and sat next to her. She passed him the computer. “Allegedly.”

He scrolled through the photos. “That takes the biscuit.” Color drained from his freshly shaven face.

Maggie gawped at the screen. “Is Jago the Daddy?” She’d only just found out that she was pregnant and there was a picture of her going into the charity event at the Empire State Building with a baby bump the size of a beach ball.

“What the …?”

“They’ve altered the photo. It’s the press’s current favorite trick.” He closed the laptop. “It’s best not to look. Try not to let it bother you.”

She was out of her depth. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“This isn’t rhino hide.” He pinched the skin on the back of his hand. “Sometimes it’s best to ignore stuff. Wait for it to go away.”

Maggie gently touched his hand with the pad of her thumb, moving it in circles over the spot that he’d pinched. “That’s why I told the reporter you’re not the dad. I thought the story would go away if they knew I’d had donor insemination.”

Alex pulled his hand away abruptly. “Evidently that’s not the story they wanted to run.”

Unsettled by his abrasive reaction, she jumped up and hurried to the bathroom. In the shower she closed her eyes and turned her face up into the comforting warmth of the water. The streams trickled over her. Sadness clouded her mind like a storm spoiling a perfect day. Some crazy, stupid, mixed-up part of her wanted Alex to be her baby’s dad. It was a bigger fantasy than trying to convince herself that last night she’d been making love to a vampire. Who was she kidding? That notion had been a non-starter from the micro-second after the moment she’d dreamt it up, and so was this. She and Alex had both accepted that no matter how good this was, it had no future.

She lathered her hair with an excessive dollop of the hotel’s freebie shampoo. The citrus aroma filled the shower cubicle. She tipped back her head and ran her fingers into her hair, rinsing out the sudsy froth with grim determination. She’d given in to one night with Alex. She remained in control of her life. She felt more for him than she’d wanted to believe at first. A lot more. He could turn her beliefs about the non-existence of The One upside down with just one word – if he wanted to. She was in love with him. But she couldn’t make him love her. And she couldn’t make him feel something he didn’t. She was okay with that. She had to be. She’d always known she’d never have him. There was something about him. Something isolated, remote. He was hers for now. She’d given herself totally to him and in doing so her heart hadn’t shattered into a zillion tiny pieces.

She wasn’t like one of those airhead girls his character seduced on the show. She was still standing. In charge of her world. Mistress of her own destiny. And undeterred by an intrusive story on the internet.

Suddenly she felt his body. Strong. Smooth. Hard. Like hot marble.

Incongruous. And tempting.

His arms closed round her, drawing her close against him so that his erection jutted against the curve at the base of her spine. Hot, wet and naked in the shower with Alex she was powerless; unable to resist his potent sex appeal, the deep sensuality of his lips on the back of her neck. She turned into his arms and kissed his solid chest, moving her mouth gently over his sun-golden skin. Water showered over them.

Her body responded to his magnetism. On automatic.

“Get a condom,” she urged. He did as she bid.

Clear. Decisive. She knew her own mind. She’d make love to him one last time. And leave.

His mouth, softer than before, slippery, deeply sensual, closed over hers. He cupped his hands under her bum and lifted her. She entwined him with her legs. Water pooled in her cleavage and trickled over her breasts. The contact of her nipples with his skin pushed her desire off the charts. He entered her. The concoction of wet, hot bodies was more than she could bear. A moan of pleasure formed low in her throat. Their bodies powered up in unison, driving each other higher. Towards climax. Locked in ecstasy. She came first. His release followed seconds after.

“Alex!” The cry that had been building inside her escaped in a groan of supplication and satisfaction. “I have to leave.”

They relaxed their hold on each other. Shadows darkened his eyes where blue light had danced moments before. He stepped out of the shower. She watched him from beneath lowered lashes, admiring his physical perfection.

For the last time.

He held out a plush bathrobe. She stepped dripping onto the tiles, slipped her arms into it and tied the belt. She grabbed a towel and made a turban. He undid it again, dried the ends of her hair, and threw the towel on the floor. He ploughed his hands into the long, damp strands and massaged her scalp, moving his fingers in sensuous circles. He touched her chin, his fingers firm, forcing her not to avoid his eyes. “Look at me.” His deep voice sent tingles rippling down her spine. He pressed a soft kiss to her mouth, lingered, and she ached to let it deepen. Except he broke away. “There’s no ‘have to’ about it.” His tone was direct, his mood electric. She opened her mouth to insist. He cut her off. “We’re going out.”

“I’m not going anywhere but the airport. I need to rebook my flight.”

He put a finger on her lips and replaced it with a light kiss. His mouth moved upwards, feathering first her nose then her forehead. Thrown by the tender gesture Maggie froze.

“Stay,” he insisted huskily. “You’ve missed one flight today already. What’s the hurry? Besides, there’s somewhere I’d like to take you.”

“Wh-Where?” All too ready to cave, she knew that staying would be like putting skates on her heart and allowing it to take off across the thinnest ice.

“Broadway,” he announced. “I called in a favor. I’ve got us comps for a show.”

His big break-your-heart-smile spread across his face so that creases hollowed his cheeks, like brackets. “You’re not leaving New York without taking in a show on the Great White Way. I won’t allow it.”

She was topsy-turvy with doubt and desire. She’d had her one-night stand. She really didn’t want to leave, but she didn’t know if she could stay without blathering about her feelings all over the place. And that would make a terrible mess.

The temptation was too much. Alex wasn’t going to happen to her again in this lifetime.

“Oh, you won’t?” She rose to the challenge. “We’ll have to see about that.” She ran her hands over his broad, golden chest, skimming tauntingly downwards to where he’d tucked a towel around his waist. He groaned and halted the downward progress of her hands, circling her wrists with the gentle force of his big hands. His erection stood proud under the white towel.

“You’ll pay for that later.” He spoke raspingly. The effect she had on his gorgeous body delighted her.

“I’ll settle up now if it’s all the same to you.”

With that she jumped into his arms, and wrapped her body in a tight tangle around his. Leaving wet towels scattered on the floor, he carried her back to bed. Living in the moment, she squealed with delight and gave herself over to a bout of delicious Alex-style pleasure.

Resigned to the fact that she was about to set off for JFK, Maggie swooned a little as Alex shoved the big, stupid penguin with the silly fixed grin on its beak into the back of a yellow taxi outside the hotel where they’d spent another blissful night. The show had been great, but rather than risk any more run-ins with photographers, or worse still, would-be paps with their phone cameras, instead of heading for an upscale restaurant where New Yorkers go to see and be seen, they’d gone back to their suite and ordered room service.

It was fine by Maggie. She was much happier alone with Alex than being seen out and about with him. After a night of passion and intensity, things had been left unsaid. What would have been the point in telling Alex how she felt about him? He couldn’t say he loved her back if he didn’t.

Alex swept Maggie into his arms in a strong hug. It felt as if she’d melt there and then on the New York street and trickle down a drain, never to be seen again. She inhaled the freshly showered scent of his warm skin as his cheek brushed hers. It was over. She was clinging on to her self-control by a thread. If he asked her to stay any longer, she’d fall so hard for him that she’d never recover. She needn’t have worried. It was over for him too. He had a full day of press stuff scheduled and his taxi was waiting, engine running, an impatient driver drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Bye, Alex. It was nice …”

“Nice?” Both eyebrows shot up.

“Better than nice.” She climbed into the cab. “It was …” She searched for a word. Why did this have to be awkward? She sounded so prim. He watched her closely, mesmerizing her with his eyes.

“… Wicked?” he supplied. His Jago hint of an almost-smile slotted into place.

Maggie didn’t reply. She quivered inside, suppressing a bubble of emotion. She wanted to do this goodbye thing with the poise of an actress in a black and white movie.

An irritable blast on the horn came from the taxi behind. “Time to go.” Alex closed the door of Maggie’s taxi and slammed his hand down on the roof, signaling to the driver that he could set off. “See you in London.”

The words stung. She couldn’t bear to go down the road of imagining him in her life, loving him, relying on him being there. Through the open window she heard his voice boom theatrically. “I want you at my first night. And, don’t forget, I’m counting on you for a makeover.” As the taxi drove away he signaled with a thumb to his ear and his little finger to his mouth that he would call.