BTW: I Love You (Mills & Boon M&B) (One Hot Fling - Book 1) (15 page)

Maddy wasn’t special. He couldn’t let her be. Whatever Zack and now Ruth believed. But even though she wasn’t special, she was definitely different.

When had he ever cut a business trip short because he missed a woman so much he couldn’t be without her? And when had he ever found it this hard to let one go?

He’d actually been concerned about inviting Maddy to Graystone’s for dinner. The restaurant was one of the most sought-after places to eat in London—frequented by the very top echelons of the capital’s business and entertainment worlds—and he’d worried about her feeling out of place and uncomfortable. But when she’d walked in, the blue dress clinging to her curves and making his mouth go bone-dry, he
was the one who had felt uncomfortable. Because the desire to carry her off and then gobble her up in a few quick greedy bites had been stronger than ever.

Why did she fit here every bit as much as she did in that tiny cottage on the cliffpath? And when was he going to start tiring of her? Because they’d been together for over a month now. Which was already a record for him.

He’d planned the meeting with Ruth with one simple motive in mind. If Ruth liked Maddy’s work, it would absolve him of any lingering guilt over their affair. He’d used Maddy to repair his own battered ego and it seemed only fair to give her something back.

But the simple motive had backfired. He’d got a genuine thrill out of Maddy’s awestruck expression when Ruth had talked about the DeMontfort’s show, and her excited chatter all the way home in the cab about the prospect of her future career—not to mention the heady enthusiasm with which she’d made love to him when they got back to the apartment. She’d looked at him as if he had given her something precious—and made him wish that his motives had been as pure as she believed.

She stirred against him in her sleep, the movement sweet and sexy and so trusting he huffed out a sigh.

He had to reset the boundaries between them.

He took a deep breath of her intoxicating scent.

And somehow find a way to stick to them this time.

‘MADDY, dear—’ Ruth peered at her as she poured the pot of tea ‘—you look exhausted.’

Maddy took the ornate china teacup Ruth offered her and sipped at the delicate brew, trying to mask the creeping fatigue that had begun to sap her strength. ‘I’m fine. Really.’

‘You’re not fine. That much is obvious,’ Ruth said, her eyes clouded with sympathy as she draped the designs they had been discussing over her desk. ‘Is it the show? I’ve been working you like a slavedriver.’

Maddy shook her head. ‘I’m so excited about tonight, that’s all. I’m finding it hard to sleep,’ she murmured, fingering the silk, not quite able to look Ruth in the eye.

She put the teacup down carefully on the tray, felt the emotions that had been so close to the surface for two weeks well up inside her. Who was she kidding? Her lack of sleep had nothing to do with the charity gala and everything to do with her relationship with Rye.

At first she’d tried to persuade herself it was her imagination—and the stress caused by the manic preparations for the show. Just because Rye had insisted they go out every single night and seemed reluctant to spend any time alone her.

They still made love every evening and often in the morning as well. And he had been a charming and considerate host, planning a series of outings and excursions. He’d taken her ice skating one evening at the rink at Somerset House, bought box seats for a show in Shaftesbury Avenue, wined and dined her in a number of swanky restaurants and nightclubs.

But gradually she’d begun to feel as if the whirlwind of social engagements he kept insisting on were really just more of the diversionary tactics he’d employed so skilfully all along. She’d hoped that their relationship would deepen, strengthen while she was in London but, honestly, the reverse seemed to be happening.

‘Does Rye know you’re in love with him?’

Maddy’s head jerked up at Ruth’s softly spoken question. ‘I’m sorry—what?’ she said, but the flush was already creeping up her neck.

Ruth crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt over her knees. ‘You haven’t told him, have you, my dear?’

She could try to deny it, but somehow the concern on Ruth’s face had the emotion swelling in her throat. She dipped her head, gave it a little shake. ‘How did you know?’ she asked, twisting her hands together in her lap.

Ruth’s hand covered hers and squeezed. ‘I recognised the symptoms. Six years ago, I went through the same thing myself. And I’m sure I looked as unhappy and as unsure of myself as you do right now.’

Maddy looked up, the sympathy and total understanding in Ruth’s gaze making tears prickle the backs of her eyes. ‘You and Rye were lovers?’

Ruth nodded. ‘We had a brief fling. As I suspect you guessed when we first met.’

Maddy nodded, desperately embarrassed. She had guessed it, but she’d gone into denial about that as well as everything else in the past few weeks.

‘There’s no need to feel awkward,’ Ruth remarked, sending Maddy a warm smile. ‘It only lasted a few weeks. I was forty and had just gone through a particularly bitter divorce when Rye came along. He was fifteen years younger, impossibly gorgeous and devastating in bed—and of course I fell stupidly in love with him. But it meant absolutely nothing to him.’

Delivered in an amused tone, Ruth’s candid confession didn’t bring on the jealousy Maddy would have expected.

‘I’m sorry. Rye didn’t say anything,’ Maddy murmured.

Ruth patted her hand. ‘Of course he didn’t. Why would he? Rye left me as soon as he realised I was getting serious about him. And there have been a string of women since, who I’ve watched go through the same unhappy experience. I’m grateful that we managed to remain friends, but much more grateful that episode of my life is over. Heartache can be hell on the complexion, you know.’

Maddy huffed out a laugh, but her own heart felt as if it were being torn out of her chest, because Ruth’s words had brought her face to face with exactly what it was that had been so wrong in the past weeks. Rye had been shutting her out and she’d been too scared to even admit it to herself, let alone confront him about it.

Maddy’s palms dampened as her heartbeat began to hammer like a pneumatic drill. She should have told Rye two weeks ago how she felt. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t be a pushover any more, that she’d stand up for herself. And she hadn’t. Because she’d been scared to risk the sort of confrontation she’d spent her whole life avoiding.

‘I have to tell him how I feel,’ she murmured.

‘I’m afraid so,’ Ruth said quietly. ‘Rye has a pattern that won’t allow him to get close to anyone. And he’s far too pigheaded to change it on his own.’

Maddy nodded. She’d suspected as much all along—that
he’d never recovered from the loss of his parents and he’d been protecting himself in the only way he knew how ever since.

‘But how can I change it, if he won’t let me?’

‘I’ve seen the way he looks at you, my dear.’ Ruth sent her a reassuring smile. ‘I believe you already have.’

‘S
UCCESS
agrees with you, Maddy. You look gorgeous tonight.’ Rye cupped her cheek as he leaned across their table. ‘But I’m not waiting much longer to find out what you’ve got on under that gown.’

Maddy smiled, the familiar flirtation helping to stem the apprehension that had been building inside her ever since her conversation with Ruth that afternoon. ‘Ruth promised me she only has one more set of buyers to introduce me to. Then we can make a run for it.’

Hearing the orchestra in the ballroom next door strike up a slow, seductive waltz, her smile became wistful. ‘Did you know, we’ve never danced together,’ she murmured before she could think better of it.

Standing up, he tugged her gently out of her chair. ‘That’s easily remedied.’

She held back. ‘Are you sure?’ She hadn’t meant to pressure him into doing something he wasn’t comfortable with. ‘What about your leg?’

He sent her a wolfish grin as he led her into the ballroom, which was already crowded with beautiful people dancing in the muted glow of the chandeliers. ‘I’m sure I can handle a slow dance,’ he said as he rested one hand on her hip and
pulled her into his arms. ‘Especially if it means I can get my hands on you before midnight,’ he whispered against her hair.

She tilted her head back and looked into his handsome face, thrown into stark relief by the shadowy light, suddenly desperate to store up as many memories as she could tonight. In case they were all she had left in the morning.

She clung to him as he swayed her gently in his arms, his limp barely noticeable.

Dropping her cheek onto his shoulder and nestling against the crisp linen of his dress shirt, she listened to the pounding of his heart and revelled in the warmth of his body against hers. The fresh scent of pine soap and the musky scent of male pheromones enveloped her.

So far, despite an extreme case of nerves, the night had been magical—and she didn’t want it to end.

The Savoy had been a spectacular venue, done out in its festive finery, the baubles and bows and fairy lights adding a childlike air of expectation to the sedate luxury of the landmark hotel.

The show had been elegant and beautiful and her silk work, which Ruth had incorporated as the signature pieces, had complemented the dramatic setting perfectly. After a standing ovation during her bow on the catwalk, Maddy had sat through the four-course charity dinner afterwards with Rye by her side. And as he’d teased her about the number of people who came up to sing her praises or press business cards into her hand, she’d barely been able to eat a bite.

The thought of what lay ahead, when they returned to the suite Rye had booked for the night, had been hovering at the back of her mind all evening, but it hadn’t managed to dim the wonder of being in such a beautiful place with Rye as her attentive escort.

And he had been attentive, playful and charming and ridiculously proud of her achievement. And if she’d noticed
the tiniest tension in his tone, the guarded looks he flicked her way when he thought she wasn’t looking, she hadn’t let it bother her.

Whatever happened tonight, at least she would finally know what he felt for her. Whether what they had was real or imagined. And whether they had any hope at all of making a life together.

As they moved together to the swelling strains of orchestral music, the significance of the moment hit her. She had been a coward, and a foolish one at that, letting her parents’ miserable excuse for a marriage stop her from fighting for what she wanted. She’d held back and let Rye take the lead when he knew even less about love than she did.

His arm tightened around her waist as hope and determination made her heart swell to impossible proportions.

Tonight didn’t have to be the end. It could be the start of a wonderful new beginning.

‘Are you sure? There’s a bathroom in the suite,’ Rye said, frowning.

‘I need a few minutes to freshen up,’ Maddy replied, enjoying his frustration maybe more than she should.

‘Fine. But hurry up. I feel like I’ve waited months already.’

Picking up the skirts of her designer gown, Maddy rushed to the Ladies Lounge in the lobby of the grand hotel. Really she could have waited until they got to the suite. But she’d needed a few moments more, to go over in her head exactly what she planned to say to Rye and how she was going to say it.

As she bustled into the ornate cubicle, not paying much attention to the stick-thin woman at the vanity unit who had been one of the models in the show, she realised she wasn’t nervous any more. She was excited.

Rye had been so loving tonight, so supportive and so
sexy—and the distance, the caution she’d noticed in the last few weeks hadn’t been nearly as apparent.

After entering the cubicle, she put the toilet seat down and sat for a moment to collect herself. As excited as she was, she needed to calm down a bit before she went upstairs with Rye. The events of the evening had been overwhelming. She wanted to appear totally sane when she told him she loved him. Babbling would not be good.

As she concentrated on getting her heartbeat back to an acceptable level, she heard the swish of a woman’s skirts on the plush carpeting as someone else entered the Lounge.

‘Marta, you look fabulous,’ the newcomer said in an aristocratic voice. ‘How do you manage to stay so thin?’

‘Starvation, darling,’ the supermodel Maddy had spotted by the basin said in a wry Germanic accent.

The other woman laughed.

Maddy stood, ready to leave the cubicle.

‘I saw your old squeeze Ryan King outside,’ the posh woman remarked. ‘No man has a right to look that good in a tuxedo.’

Maddy’s hand stilled on the lock, disconcerted by the news that the supermodel was yet another of Rye’s conquests.

‘What were you thinking, letting him get away?’ the woman added. ‘He still looks delicious, even with that unfortunate limp.’

‘Looks can be deceiving, darlin’,’ Marta replied dryly.

The posh woman giggled. ‘What does that mean?’ she said, her voice eager with curiosity.

There was a slight pause. Maddy sat back down on the toilet seat, annoyance catching in her throat. Hadn’t Rye suffered enough without these women gossiping about him as if he were a piece of meat?

‘He’s impotent, darlin’. Can’t get it up.’

Maddy gasped at Marta’s blunt statement, her astonishment
masked by another even louder gasp from Marta’s companion.

‘You’re joking. But he was the most sought-after stud in London.’

‘I know, it’s devastating,’ Marta replied, not sounding remotely devastated.

‘That’s so ironic it’s almost funny,’ the posh woman continued, sounding both scandalised and amused by the juicy titbit of gossip.

Maddy’s stomach clenched, her anger choking her.

How dared these women make fun of Rye’s accident? And they were totally wrong about his abilities in bed. If he’d been briefly impotent after the accident, he certainly wasn’t any more. She could testify to that.

But, rather than bursting out of the cubicle to set them straight, she found herself anchored to the seat as confusion and inadequacy drowned out her outrage.

A part of her had always wondered why Rye had found her so irresistible. Why he had pursued her. Why he had wanted her so much—a man who could have any woman.

In the weeks since their first few days together, all those silly worries had faded away. Their sex life had been amazing. All his attention, all his eagerness and enthusiasm in bed had bolstered her confidence, not just in her sexual abilities but in so many other areas of her life.

But what if it had all been built on a lie? What if it was her inexperience that had been the real turn-on all along? Had she been his Little Miss Fixit in bed without even realising it?

Was that the real reason he’d become distant in the last few weeks? Because now he was fully recovered he was bored with her?

The thundering in her ears made it impossible to hear the rest of the conversation between Marta and her friend. She
felt as if she’d been rooted to the toilet seat for an eternity when she realised she was alone.

Forcing herself to leave the safety of the cubicle, she washed her hands on autopilot, the face that stared back at her in the mirror bleached of colour, all the sweet excitement, all the enthusiastic certainty of a few minutes before sucked out of her.

Rye swore softly as he glanced at his watch for the fiftieth time.

What was she doing? Replumbing all the toilets? She’d been in there over twenty minutes. And, not only that, he’d narrowly avoided bumping into Marta, which would have soured his mood completely.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he propped his butt against the lobby wall and forced his gaze away from the door of the Ladies Lounge. As he stared at the other guests milling around in the lobby, he tried to swallow down his desperation and a sharp frown creased his brow.

What the hell had happened to his careful plan to back off, to gradually let Maddy go? He’d done all the right things in the last two weeks, even though it had nearly killed him, but he was more desperate to be with her now than ever.

He’d made sure they went out every night since she’d been in London, determined to avoid the intimacy they’d shared in Cornwall.

Several times she’d suggested cooking a meal for him in the penthouse but he’d vetoed the idea, determined not to succumb to the urge to keep her all to himself. If they started living in each other’s pockets again, he’d be sunk.

But, every time he deflected her suggestions, he heard the confusion in her voice, saw the hurt in her eyes and it had crucified him.

And, before long, the evenings out had become a major
chore. The noise and glamour of London’s most exclusive nightspots didn’t hold the appeal they once had. And having her with him only made him more aware of how shallow and pointless his old life had really been. He hadn’t just missed Maddy. He’d missed the quiet, soothing intimacy of their evenings together in the cottage.

Even so, he’d stuck to his guns—refusing to give in to the weakness.

He’d planned to be politely supportive tonight but not too supportive in case she got the wrong idea. But after she’d gripped his hand during the show, her body vibrating with nerves, his protective instincts had come to the fore. And then when she’d stepped onto the catwalk to take her bow, her face flushed with stunned pleasure, her lush, toned figure in that show-stopping dress making him cross-eyed with lust, he hadn’t been able to contain his excitement or his pride a moment longer.

When she’d stepped into his arms on the dance floor and swayed against him to the old-fashioned waltz, he’d found himself holding onto her a bit too tightly. With the weight of her head nestled trustingly on his shoulder, her intoxicating scent making him instantly hard, he was convinced he could have tap danced if she’d wanted him to.

His impatience to get her upstairs, to get her undressed, to claim her in the most basic way possible confirmed what he already knew—and had been desperately trying to deny for weeks. That he didn’t just want her any more. He needed her. He depended upon her. In a way he’d promised himself he’d never depend upon anyone again.

He shifted uneasily against the panelled wood, glanced back at the still unmoving door to the Ladies. And felt as if he were teetering on the edge of an abyss.

A cold, black, bottomless abyss which he’d fallen into once before—and which he had vowed never to fall into again.

‘Where did all those people come from?’ Rye said as he fumbled with the keycard, one hand gripped on Maddy’s. ‘And why did they all have to pick our lift?’ Finally the green light blinked and he hauled her into the suite. ‘We must have stopped at every damn floor.’

He pulled her round to face him, pressed her back against the closed door, trapping her body against his and feeling her shudder of response. ‘Remind me never to get a suite on the top floor again,’ he quipped in a strained voice.

Her eyes were wide and unfocused, her face a little pale, and she’d barely spoken a word since she’d walked out of the Ladies Lounge. But then he hadn’t given her much chance, he’d hauled her into the lift so fast.

Bracing his hands against the door, he buried his face against her neck, the erotic scent of her making him harden as she shivered.

‘This has been the longest evening of my entire life,’ he murmured, the thin leash on his control stretched to breaking point.

He kissed the pulse point on her collarbone, exposed by the off the shoulder gown, skimmed his hand down satin-clad curves, then bent to grasp the hem of her dress. He groaned as he ran questing fingers up the silky skin to the apex of her thighs.

She jumped as he pressed the heel of his palm against the thin silk of her panties, and then writhed as he plunged into velvet heat.

‘Please stop, Rye.’ She shrank back, her hands flattening against his chest.

He didn’t hear the words at first, his heart thundering in his
ears, the painful arousal pulsing against his fly. He had to be inside her, had to be seated deep so he could ride them both to orgasm and calm the frantic beats of his pulse.

He moved back to release the straining erection.

‘Don’t, Rye.’ She grabbed his wrist to still his hand on the zip. ‘We have to talk.’

He lifted his head, the words registering this time but not making any sense. ‘Later.’

But as he bent to kiss her, she twisted away, forcing him to draw back.

‘No, now,’ she said, her eyes dark with arousal but shadowed with regret. ‘We have to talk now.’

Damn, she was serious.

‘What’s so important we’ve got to talk about it right this second?’ he said, struggling not to snap. Not easy when he had an erection the size of Mount Everest in his pants and panic was skittering up his spine.

She flinched, her emerald eyes widening.

He stepped back, trying to get a chokehold on the need and frustration.

‘I want to make love to you, Maddy,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘And it’s pretty obvious you want to make love to me. So what’s this all about?’

She shut her eyes, a sad little sigh issuing from her lips. The dejection in the pose had apprehension twisting in his gut.