An Inconvenient Desire (15 page)

One of the models who was scheduled to work her show tonight had broken her ankle. As the designer had given Olivia work when she’d just started out, she felt obliged to help. Plus, it was to benefit a children’s charity. How could she say no? And it had been fun, even though it was hard work. She may be a glorified mannequin, but she was a damn good one.

The house was dark when she entered. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was already past midnight. Jonathan was probably exhausted from his trip and Hannah would have been in bed hours ago. She relocked the door and set the alarm before pulling off her heels to tiptoe upstairs.

“Enjoy yourself?” Jonathan’s deep voice came out of the dark, startling her. She dropped her shoes, narrowly missing her foot.

“Jonathan, I thought you’d be in bed already.” She wished her heart didn’t race every time she saw him. It would be so much easier to pretend indifference if her body wasn’t clamoring to press against his.

“I waited up for you. Didn’t know you’d gone back to modeling.” He didn’t sound impressed as he leaned against the door frame to the formal sitting room, a room they rarely used. He was dressed casually in jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt that hugged his muscled torso. A nearly empty glass of Scotch was in his hand. She stopped herself from crossing the hallway to get closer to him.

“Only tonight, and to help out a friend.” She didn’t need to defend herself. She was a grown woman, free to live her own life. She was entitled to a night off.

Jonathan straightened and slung back the last of the whiskey in the glass before re-entering the sitting room. The room was in darkness. Through the open doorway she saw him unerringly make his way over to the decanter. Had he been sitting in the dark, waiting for her return? She followed him into the room but stayed by the doorway.

Jonathan poured himself another measure and slung that back as well. She’d never seen him even remotely intoxicated. He’d never drunk more than two glasses of wine or the occasional whiskey after a really rough day. But from the way he dropped the now empty glass onto the cabinet, he’d had much more than that tonight.

“I didn’t appreciate coming home to find a strange man in my house.” He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

She clicked on the lamp next to the sofa so she could see him better, then wished she hadn’t. His face was hard, his eyes glacial. Gone was the warm man who had held her while she told him about her childhood. This was her boss. And he wasn’t amused. Perhaps their three-month trial had come to an early end. Her heart fell to the floor, ready to be trampled if he asked her to leave.

“It was a last-minute thing and you were already on a plane so I couldn’t phone you. I only got the call this afternoon. And Hannah knows James. They got on great in Italy. If she’d have been upset, I wouldn’t have left her. But she waved me goodbye without a backward glance. I was going to text you, but I got caught up in the pre-show frenzy and forgot.”

“And when were you going to tell me about getting Hannah into modeling? I won’t allow it. I’m her father. You have no right to take photos of my child.”

Her head whipped to the side as though he’d physically slapped her. The proofs from the photo shoot lay strew across the sofa. “A photographer came to take shots of me for my portfolio. The photos of Hannah were to be a gift to you and your family.”

“A gift? What, another model in the family? I don’t think so.” She edged over to him and put her hand on his face, hoping to soften his expression. She wasn’t going to ask forgiveness when she hadn’t done anything wrong. But neither was she going to leave without making an effort to reason with him. Her heart wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet. Her fighting spirit had helped her climb out of the gutter and reinvent herself. But now it refused to let her walk away until she was sure there was nope hope for them. Loving Hannah wasn’t enough. She wanted Jonathan to love her for everything she was. If that wasn’t possible, then she’d go.

“I meant no harm, Jonathan. They’re just photos and Hannah had fun.”

When he made no further comment, she dropped her hand and turned to walk away. It would be better to discuss this in the morning, when she was rested and he was less inebriated.

Before she took one step, he grabbed her arm and pulled her against him. She automatically looked up, but his head was already descending, his lips parted. His kiss was full of anger and passion, the gentleness of their previous embraces completely absent. Her own anger rose until it was overtaken by desire.

She raised her arms so her breasts pressed against his chest, then threaded one hand in his hair. With the other she ran her fingers up and down his back, under his shirt, lightly raking his muscles with her nails.

He tasted of whiskey, smelled of freshly washed man, and felt like heaven—if heaven was a rock solid man with ripped abs, bulging biceps, and a body she could spend hours getting acquainted with. She slipped her index finger into the waistband of his jeans and ran it from his back around to the front. When she came up against his erection, he wrenched his mouth from hers and pushed her away.

His eyes were glazed, his breathing heavy and erratic. “No. I’m not having sex with a model. I’ve been down that road and I don’t like how it ends.” He strode from the room without looking back.

Ice replaced the fire that had invaded her veins. How dare he compare her to Celeste? She reached for his abandoned glass, poured herself a mouthful of whiskey, and slung it back as she’d seen him do. The amber liquid burned down her throat, but did nothing to dull the pain in her chest.

Jonathan knocked softly on Olivia’s bedroom door. It was 5
a.m.
and she would probably kill him. And he deserved it. At least dying of a stiletto to the back of the skull was likely to be less painful than the incremental chest implosion he was currently experiencing. And that had nothing on the hammering in his head.

He needed to apologize and beg for her forgiveness. And he had to do it before Hannah woke and they got on the nine o’clock train to Yorkshire. If Olivia got on the train. He wouldn’t blame her if she said she was no longer going. The weekend he’d been looking forward to as a time to romance Olivia now stretched before him as a chasm of emptiness.

He was about to knock again when he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. He got down on both knees, bowed his head, and held the steaming cup of coffee in front of him as a peace offering.

The door flung open. Then silence. He looked up. And every single drop of blood in his body headed to his groin. His brain signaled surrender and his tongue refused to obey his command to speak. He blinked, repeatedly, like a camera shutter taking picture after picture.

Olivia stood in the doorway wearing only a pale pink babydoll nightgown. It skimmed the top of her thighs and one spaghetti strap hung provocatively down her arm. Her dark nipples, hardened by the cool morning air, strained against the silky material. She put both hands on her hips and for a split second he thought her breasts would burst through the flimsy top.

“Come to see what you could have had last night if you weren’t such an ass?” Her sexy morning voice acted like petrol on the flame of lust currently consuming him. Forget the stiletto to the skull—a brain aneurism was a distinct possibility.

“I … I … ” His practiced speech was gone.

“At least you brought coffee.” She reached for the cup and then leaned against the door frame, waiting for him to explain his presence.

He struggled to his feet, not the easiest move when his head felt like it was about to explode, his legs weren’t in communication with his brain—which was still trying to reboot—and he had an erection that would take hours to go down on its own.

He finally managed to get his tongue to form words. “I came to apologize. We need to talk before Hannah gets up and before we go up to Yorkshire and are inundated with my family.”

“You still expect me to go with you? After what you said last night?”

“Expect, no. I hope, pray, beg you’ll still attend my sister’s wedding. You like Stephanie, come for her. I have no right to ask anything of you. I was a complete jackass last night. I humbly and sincerely apologize for my words and actions. I can promise you that nothing like that will ever happen again.”

She crossed one arm over her stomach. “The photos of Hannah really were for you and your mother. I thought you’d like them. Isn’t that what loving parents do? Hang pictures of their kids on the wall or put them on their desks to remind themselves why they’re working so hard?”

The bitterness of her tone sliced through him. Olivia had been trying to give his daughter the childhood she never had. He’d taken her love and shoved it back in her face.

“Thank you. They are beautiful. And the ones of you … exquisite.” He shook his head to remove the image of Olivia in
the dress
, looking straight at the camera, begging him—or any man who likewise looked at her—to make love to her. She was his, dammit, no other man should see her like that. Except she wasn’t his. Not by a long shot. The ache in his chest battled for dominance with the throbbing in his head.

His agony must have shown on his face, because she reached out a hand and placed it against his cheek. His heart rate accelerated. “Jonathan, I—”

“Daddy? Bibya?” Hannah stood in the hallway, rubbing her chubby hands over both eyes.

He suppressed a groan as Olivia dropped her hand to her side. She raised the coffee cup to her lips and stared at him across the rim. He couldn’t say what he needed with an audience. Hannah toddled over to him and he lifted her into his arms.

“This child has the worst timing. Can we talk later?” he said.

Olivia gave a tinkle of a laugh. This weekend might be okay after all. “Will it involve you down on your knees again? I kind of like that approach.”

His gaze shot to hers. Did she think he was going to propose? And if so … why didn’t the thought fill him with dread?

• • •

As the taxi neared King’s Cross station, Olivia closed her eyes. She avoided this part of London. It was where she and Sophia had lived on the streets. Some of the places they’d hung out were gone now, but there were still enough reminders to send a chill through her. She crossed her arms over her stomach, hoping to ease her sudden nausea.

Hannah sat between her and Jonathan. The little girl was trying to tell Jonathan about a movie they’d watched yesterday morning. Except she kept getting the names of the characters mixed up and she called the fairies “berries,” which was adding to Jonathan’s confusion. Still, he was making a valiant effort to understand.

As the taxi drew to a halt in front of the station, Jonathan put his hand on Olivia’s. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine. Just tired.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Hopefully you can sleep on the train.”

She forced a smile and then grabbed her bag as he paid the cabbie. Her eyes flicked to a familiar spot and the tremor she’d tried to suppress in the taxi shook her whole body. Only years of practice allowed her to keep her expression neutral. “Jonathan, you go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you on the platform.”

“We can wait.” He obviously thought she was going to do a runner. But she wouldn’t do that to Stephanie, who had handwritten a note and invitation and sent it to her after their day shopping.

“Please. I’ll just be a minute. I promise to join you.” She couldn’t approach the young, homeless girl with him in tow. She waited until Jonathan and Hannah disappeared into the building.

The girl stood where Olivia had years ago, seeking shelter from the rain, trying to stay warm, out of danger. The station security patrol would leave her alone for a while but eventually they’d ask her to move on.

“Hi.”

The young woman looked up, the shock of someone not only making eye contact but bothering to speak to her evident on her face.

“I ain’t begging.”

Olivia smiled. This girl was the embodiment of her at that age. Defiant. Proud. Desperate.

“You won’t believe this, not yet. But it does get better. Seven years ago, I stood in this same spot, in the same circumstances. Go to a shelter, finish school, and then show the world they can’t keep women like us down.” She slipped the startled girl a twenty-pound note and walked away.

When she joined Jonathan and Hannah on the platform, his eyes searched her but she hid her raw emotions behind a smile. She’d been slapped in the face with a vision of her past. It was going to take a few minutes to shake the feeling that she was still that girl, just better dressed now.

All the way to Leeds she pretended to sleep. Jonathan did his best to keep Hannah occupied, playing games with her on his iPad and coloring with her in her book. Every once in a while she could sense his eyes on her. It was damn uncomfortable being so aware of him. Made feigning sleep hard when his leg would bump against hers as the train lurched. By the time they reached Leeds, she could have jogged the rest of the way to his parents’ house she had so much pent-up energy inside her.

Jonathan’s mother was waiting for them at the station and gave Olivia a warm hug and fussed over her almost as much as she did Hannah.

“You look tired, lass. Are you eating enough? Are you warm enough?” Patricia took her own scarf off and wrapped it around Olivia. The loving concerns of a caring mother.

Jonathan trailed behind, carrying the bags, an amused smile on his face. “You’re one of us now,” he said.

Half an hour later, they arrived at Jonathan’s childhood home. Olivia took in the manicured lawn and well-tended flower beds which even in autumn were full of blooms. The whole house radiated love and happiness.

“I bet you’re dying for a cuppa,” Patricia said as she ushered them into the house. “I’ll just pop the kettle on.”

“Actually, Mum, I promised Olivia I’d show her the dales. Would you mind watching Hannah?”

Patricia searched both their faces before breaking into a wide grin. “Sure, go right ahead. Hannah and I will have a great time. Hannah, wait till you see the cupcakes for Auntie Stephanie’s wedding.” She picked Hannah up and they disappeared into the next room.