Pitch Imperfect (11 page)

“Well,
I
was on time.”

“Your real appointment was for eleven-thirty.”

Anjuli laughed in spite of her annoyance. “I was only a few minutes late. I stopped in town and somehow the time got away from me.”

“I thought it might,” Rob said drily and opened a door on the left.

Rob’s office was decorated like the foyer, with the addition of an architectural drawing table in the far corner. The pièce de resistance was the floor-to-ceiling glass wall fronting onto a view of the river and moors.

“Wow,” Anjuli said, forgetting her nervousness. “This is beautiful.”

Rob went to his desk. “I moved here a few years after...after you left.”

A single heron perched on a rock, searching for food, and Anjuli watched it for a few seconds before she joined him at the desk. No photos of a beautiful woman or romantic reminders of any kind cluttered his work space. A picture of Mac and two little boys sat on a shelf protruding from the wall. Next to that there was a photo of Rob and a group of people somewhere with palm trees. She peered at it.

“Mexico,” Rob said, following her gaze.

Up went her brows. How many times had she tried to convince him to explore the world, maybe live overseas for a few years before having kids? He’d always refused. Unlike Ben and Mac, Rob had ascribed to the local view that a day out of Heaverlock was a day wasted.

“I thought you weren’t interested in travel,” she said, instantly regretting it.

He regarded her, expressionless. “People change.”

Yeah
,
and sometimes they mutate into something unrecognisable.
“God knows I have.”

Rob’s jaw tightened. What had she said wrong this time? She couldn’t gauge his mood swings in the slightest. He was a stranger to her and yet he was also the man she had loved to distraction. Unsettling, to say the least, that she had once known Rob’s dreams and hopes, what made him laugh and what made him angry. She’d been able to glean from a single look what he thought and from a touch what he felt. But now?

Like the heron on the river bank he was still, as if waiting for her to jump so he could take a bite. Nervously, Anjuli traced her collarbone. His face darkened to granite, eyes fixed on her fingers. Oops, wrong thing to do. It was a habit she thought she’d got rid of years ago, a quirk that used to drive him wild. She put her hand back in her lap.

“Were you the other bidder for Castle Manor?” she asked.

“Aye.”

Anjuli sent him an apologetic look. “I didn’t know it was you, Rob, and I regret that you were disappointed because of me.”

“Disappointment is no’ the word that comes to mind when I think of you,” he said flatly.

Anjuli flinched as though he’d slapped her. There it was, the anger she’d been expecting. Underneath the politeness, the small talk and even his sexual propositioning was a man she had wronged. One who hadn’t forgotten or forgiven her. She jumped up from the chair, eyes on the river. She couldn’t sit in front of him, facing his judgemental stare like a criminal on the dock.

“Running away again?” Rob said harshly.

Anjuli stood at the glass wall. She’d come prepared to apologise, but her carefully prepared speech now seemed trite and inadequate. Taking a deep breath she turned and faced him. “I’m sorry I left you at the altar. It was immature and heartless.”

“Aye, it was.”

The sound of the river gurgling underneath filled the silence, ripples upon ripples rushing in her ears just as the past was rushing through her mind. “I never planned to leave you waiting for me at the church. I was going to forget about Juilliard and go through with the wedding,” she said, willing him to believe her. “But then I just...couldn’t.”

“I gathered as much when you didn’t turn up.”

A hint of her old frustration hardened her voice. “I was only twenty, Rob. You were twenty-four. We had plenty of time but establishing your architectural firm and having a family was all you cared about.”

“So you ran off. Typical Anjuli behaviour, avoiding anything unpleasant. Avoiding
me
. Was I such a monster it was easy for you to throw my love away?”

“You were intransigent and overwhelming. And dictatorial.”

“I guess that answers my question.”

“I did the wrong thing,” she said softly. “I took the coward’s way out hoping you’d finally realise how much singing meant to me. I felt awful, and I wrote to you every day, asking you to forgive me. Asking you to come with me. For two weeks I waited, almost missing my flight to New York, searching every face at the airport in the hope that it would be yours. But you let me go.”

Rob looked at the river. “You’d made your choice.”

“That’s it, all you have to say?”

Rapid emotions crossed his face, too quick for her to catch. The last one was anger though, that she could read loud and clear. Also, something else she couldn’t put her finger on, something that softened his features and made him seem vulnerable somehow, if only for the briefest of moments until that, too, escaped her grasp.

Anjuli waited.

Waited...

He wasn’t going to explain why he hadn’t come for her? Or why he’d started dating so soon after she’d left? She dug her nails into her palm the way she wanted to dig them into his skin, and took a long, deep breath. It was in the past and maybe she didn’t need explanations. What she wanted was to forget and move on. Sideways, forwards or zigzagging, as long as she stopped thinking about him.

Deep breaths and calm
,
cool voice
. “Thank you for hearing me out.”

He studied her for a long, nerve-wracking moment. “Do you feel better now?”

“It’s not about making myself feel better.”

“Aye, it’s about needing my help. Because if you hadn’t bought Castle Manor you wouldn’t be here, apologising. You’d be avoiding me like I was a Border Reiver, or am I mistaken?”

An image of Rob on horseback, swooping down to capture her, popped into Anjuli’s mind. Except she’d been the one to cause
him
pain and nothing she said could ever change that.

“I’ve always regretted doing that to you,” she said. “If nothing else, please believe me about that.”

For a few seconds they watched the heron try to catch his meal. He dipped his head into the river and came out with a fish in his beak.

“I was shocked and angry,” Rob said, more conversationally now. “But it soon passed. I had other things on my mind.”

“Like the new girlfriend?” she snapped.
Shit
. Hadn’t she just decided Rob’s rebound romance shouldn’t matter or hurt? But it seemed that it
did
matter and that it tore into her insides like a hawk’s talons. “I hear it took all of seven days to forget me.”

“You have no idea—” Rob said, jamming his fists into his pockets. “No. I don’t have to justify myself to you. Not after what you did.”

Anjuli’s eyes moistened for the first time in almost a year, a fact that would have surprised her had it not been for the maelstrom of emotions she was experiencing. Anger. Sorrow. Regret. Jealousy. Not that Rob seemed to notice or care. He’d taken out a folder as if he wanted to hop off the personal barge and onto the business express.

“The manor needs a lot of work,” he said, leafing through the pages.

Yes, that was it then. No more questions, apologies or recriminations. They’d hung out their washing and it had dried, been folded and put away. It was what she’d wanted, but instead of calm relief she was spinning, getting tossed back and forth, wrung out by feelings that should have been swept away by his words.

Rob spread out a large technical drawing. “I drew up a few plans for the manor. I wanted to design a new glass conservatory in keeping with the old one and add other missing features. I gather you want the exterior building work done as well as the interior restoration?”

He took her silence for agreement, then his business-like expression changed, and he swept a loaded, carnal gaze over her body. “Is there anything else you want?”

Oh
,
yes
,
so many things.
Give me back the past.
Keep me twenty years old and make it so I don’t feel this sadness that clings to me like a weed refusing to be uprooted.

Anjuli straightened her shoulders. “The only thing I want is for you to restore Castle Manor.”

A pointed look right at her pussy. “Are you sure, lass?”

God
,
no
. “Of course. Shall we shake on it?”

A few strides and Rob had grasped her outstretched hand, bringing her up against him. Anjuli pulled away and he tightened his hold, imprinting her contours onto his chest, plastering her so close she could smell the masculine spice of his aftershave. Thoughts of the past fled from her mind as her body was taken over by the present.

Why did no other man ever affect her like this? She had to shake herself out of it, needed to take that step away, because it was over and they could never go back, yet she didn’t move. His scent was an aromatic siren, beckoning her closer.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what
I
want?” he asked huskily.

Was he nuts? There was no way in hell she would ask him that. It was too open a question, too blank a sheet of paper. He would write on it until the ink overflowed, spilling into her until she drowned in his lust.

Her voice came out in a whisper. “Can’t we agree to forget about the past?”

Their eyes met and she was caught as inescapably as the heron’s prey, hanging on Rob’s answer as if hearing it would somehow loosen his stranglehold on her mind and body.

Chapter Nine

Rob tightened his hands around Anjuli’s waist. Her full lips were parted and trembling. Inviting. He’d wanted to kiss her since he’d seen her on the sofa and he wanted to kiss her now, to caress her until she was hot and willing. Until the thought of any other man was wiped from her mind. But if he kissed her now he wouldn’t stop; he would pull up her skirt and wrap her naked thighs around his hips...

He was a fucking mess.

Anjuli’s breathing was shallow, her eyes glazed with passion, reminding him of what she looked like when she was underneath him. On top. Blood that should have been pumping into his brain pumped into his cock, overpowering the voice of reason. He didn’t want to talk about the past or the house; he wanted to make love to her. Thrust into her sweetness and hear her moan in pleasure.

He pressed his hips into her body and her eyes widened with something that looked like panic. Or fear. The Anjuli he’d known would have stomped on his toe, punched him or slapped him at the very least. Was she so desperate for Castle Manor to be restored that she’d allow him to hold her against her will? Something inside his chest twisted at the thought, urging him to erase the worry from her face and reassure her that he would do whatever she wanted.

Shit
. What happened to casual sex and walking away?

An angry, perverse part of him enjoyed having the upper hand. She needed him. He could have her in his bed, slake his desire and
then
call an end to it. She wouldn’t even care, despite her outward offence at his sexual overtures. She was hardened, he reminded himself, used to living a lifestyle he neither understood nor agreed with.

He cupped her bottom and her hazel eyes turned green. The same dark, alluring shade he saw when he made her come. No matter what she’d said in London, she wanted
him.
He knew it as solidly as the feel of her body, trembling in his arms. His head spun, and for a moment he was dizzy with elation. “We’ll no’ forget the past until we have sex, and plenty of it,” he said thickly. “You want me to make love to you.”

Her mouth fell open. “You...I do not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous is trying to deny that you want me so much you’re trembling, or that you wanted me in London.”

“Get over yourself.”

He smiled and tightened his hand around her full cheek, enjoying the way her breath sped up when she felt his arousal. “You used to have better comebacks.”

“I never used to need comebacks with you.”

“And you never used to lie about your desire.”

Her mouth set into a stubborn line. “I
used
you to forget Brendan and that was the extent of it.”

Instant, blinding rage shot through him. Why was she insisting she didn’t want him? He wasn’t a violent man, but he wanted to punch the wall and shatter the glass. Or better, punch the man she’d been married to, the man she’d pretended to want instead of him. Because he was sure of it, now. B.R. Kavon hadn’t been in her head or her heart that night, not the way she’d looked at him like she used to, right before he entered her. He crushed Anjuli against his crotch so tightly she gasped.

“It was
my
mouth you clung to and
my
cock you begged for,” he reminded her.

“I was drunk, remember, and you took advantage,” she accused.

Rob stiffened as if she’d dealt him a blow. He loosened his hold, but she didn’t move away, staring up at him with the same panicked fear he’d seen before. Did she believe he was the type of man who preyed on inebriated women?
God damn it.
Why hadn’t he kept his dick under control that night? He cursed himself for giving in to his desire, remembering how heavily she’d come on to him. And how drunk she’d been.

Fuck, but she’d made him hot, and she was doing it again now. He cupped her heaving breast, brushing her rigid nipple with his thumb, wanting her to remember how much she’d begged for his touch. She let out a soft, involuntary gasp, filling him with possessive, savage pleasure. Anjuli may have had sex with him in London because she was drunk, but she wasn’t drunk now.

“I could have you on the sofa right now if I wanted,” he said.

Mrs. P. tsked from the doorway and they jumped apart.

“That would be awfully messy, my dear, and I think the sofa would stain. It is black, you know. Then the cleaners would gossip, and we wouldn’t want that. The desk is a much better place for sex. Nice and hard, and such a lovely view.”

Mrs. P. set her tray of tea, bannock and brownies on the coffee table. Then she smiled, seemingly delighted. “You two carry on and remember, be safe. AIDS, syphilis, chlamydia...well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. I’ll shut the door and tell the others not to disturb you.” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper and looked at Rob. “There’s plenty of tissue in your desk drawer.”

Rob groaned as the door clicked shut behind her. “Bugger.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed, if indeed he ever had. Anjuli was staring at the door, face red and jaw so low he could see her molars. “She’s reading
A
Grandparent’s Guide to Modern Sexuality
, trying out new terminology and telling me what she’s learned during her coffee breaks. Yesterday it was butt plugs.”

Anjuli giggled, then burst into long peals of laughter. God it was good to hear her laugh again. The brownies went down a treat—two for Anjuli, he noticed; she always was a greedy guts with chocolate—while he told her of Mrs. P.’s cringeworthy titbits on penis enlargers, vibrator safety and ménage etiquette. Anjuli laughed, scooping up a crumb with her finger. She popped it into her mouth, eyes brimming with mirth.

Rob held his breath and his chest tightened. There never had been any other choice for him than the one he’d already made. “I’ll restore the manor for you, but it will be on my terms.”

Apprehension clouded her face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m in charge. It’s my say on quality and construction.”

“It’s
my
house, remember?”

“And it’s my professional reputation. I don’t cut corners, I don’t skimp on details and I don’t leave a job unfinished. If that’s not to your liking, you’ll need to find another architect.”

“I go away for eight years and you turn into a passive-aggressive?”

“I have a colleague in Edinburgh I could recommend.”

“Fine, but I’m no pushover.”

The idea of pushing her over, taking her on the sofa and giving the cleaners the gossip of their lives made his balls ache painfully. He dropped his eyes to her crossed, shapely legs. He knew from experience they could clench tight and ride hard. Would she be wet and ready for him?

His voice came out hoarse. “Don’t dress like that when my men are on-site.”

Anjuli huffed. “And does my hair meet your requirements?”

Only if it’s loose and wild while you’re riding my cock.
“Keep it tied back or up like it is now. I’ve got young lads working for me and I don’t want them wandering around starstruck and horny. A beautiful woman in tight clothes and make-love-to-me hair is a dangerous distraction on a construction site.”

He clasped her hand, and when she would have tugged it away Rob tightened his grip. He didn’t know why she’d come back, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to do another runner. “Don’t mess me around,” he warned. “You can’t go on tour in the middle of the job or suddenly decide you don’t want to restore the house anymore. I employ a lot of people.”

“I won’t.”

Rob watched her look through the initial estimates he’d made. Her tongue skimmed her upper lip and her fingers brushed her collarbone. Was she doing that on purpose? She pushed out her lower lip as she perused the figures. It was deep pink, full and moist, just like her—
Fuck!
Where were his car keys? He needed a distraction before he really did act the Border Reiver, throw her down and take her whether she wanted or not.

“I want to have a look around the house,” he said.

Her delighted expression intensified the throb in his crotch. “I’m heading to the pub so maybe you could come around tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.

“I’m going now.”

“What’s the rush?”

“Once I decide something I don’t procrastinate.”

Let her chew on that
.

* * *

Rob chewed on his duck breast and tried to stay serene as he ate Ben’s four course meal. No “meat and two veg” when Ben was cooking; his brother had a gourmet palate. But concentrating on the food he’d prepared was increasingly difficult with Mac talking incessantly of Anjuli. In the week or so since their meeting at the school they’d spent a lot of time together, catching up—and no doubt Mac was building romantic dreams of happily ever afters.

“When are you going to see the house?” Mac asked.

“I’ve been twice, both while Anjuli was at the pub,” he answered levelly. Not so level was the surge of anticipation he felt at returning. “Back tomorrow morning with the men, starting on the roof.”

“But Anjuli won’t be there. She’s coming with me to Edinburgh, all day,” Mac said, crestfallen. “And she said she’s moving in with Ash as soon as work gets underway.”

Rob took another bite, chewed, and tried to swallow. Had Anjuli made those plans with Mac to avoid him? So far she’d managed to be out when he’d come by the house, and at the pub she busied herself with others or disappeared to the back office as soon as he arrived.

“You should go see her tonight,” Mac insisted.

“She’s no’ the one I need to survey.”

Ben frowned. “But you want to.”

Mac slapped his arm. “Stop being disgusting. That’s my friend you’re talking about, and your future sister-in-law.”

Rob gave Mac a dark look. If she continued on he’d have to say something to convince her to stop pestering him. He took a sip of his wine, allowing the Rioja to mellow his response. “Anjuli was an immature, selfish girlfriend and now she’s an immature, cruel celebrity.” He saluted Ben with his wineglass. “Why waste my long-term on a woman like that?”

Mac glared at him, her frustration evident. “When she came back I thought you two deserved a second chance and that she would make you happy. Now I think Anjuli deserves better. You’re too proud for your own good and she’s a caring, selfless woman, a good friend and—”

“Anjuli Carver is a callous user and all I want from her is an orgasm, preferably at my home so she can see herself out.”

Mac never swore, but she didn’t need foul language to get her point across. Her fist was good enough. “You nasty, unfeeling oaf!”

Rob rubbed his arm. “What the hell was that for? I’m your brother, in case you’ve forgotten. Your loyalty should be to me.”

Ben laughed. “The sisterhood take no prisoners, you idiot.”

Hell, he
was
an idiot for saying that to Mac, of all people. She was a churchgoing, straight-down-the-line “no sex without love” sort of woman. And she defended her friends to the death.

“Now I’m happy Anjuli’s going with Damien to the ceilidh.” Mac refused to say another word to him for the rest of the night, walking out after kissing Ben and sending him another wrathful look. His sister could hold a grudge like a miser his gold, and she had an unforgiving streak when she was angry. Hell, she’d lambasted him for occasionally spending time with Sarah, but what was wrong with that? Should he ignore a friend simply because she’d once wanted more?

Ben took out two tumblers and a bottle of Jura from the drinks cabinet and followed him into the sitting room. He was staying the night, leaving early the next morning on a trek starting at the back of the house and ending on the other side of Halton Forest National Park. Exercise he enjoyed, and a chance to scout the terrain for anything out of the ordinary.

“Mac isn’t going to get over that one for a while,” he said.

Rob shrugged, affecting indifference he didn’t feel. “It’s about time our sister knew where I stand regarding Anjuli.”

Ben poured out the whisky and sat back, a faint smile on his face. “You, little brother, are full of crap. You’re going to restore her house, run yourself ragged for a woman who won’t appreciate it. All because you want sex? I don’t buy it.”

“I wouldn’t have taken on her renovation if I didn’t know I could do it. Everything should be finished by the end of the summer. All my builds are on schedule.”

“And what about your career, is that on schedule also? You’re turning down the opportunity of a lifetime so you can stay in Scotland for...what did you call her? A callous user, I think you said. That’s the height of stupidity. Even Mac would agree if you told her.”

Rob took a sip of the mellow whisky, jaw set as stubbornly as Ben’s. “I don’t need the projects in America. I’ve already designed and built two ecological schools.”

“In Boston and Washington, D.C.? Hopping over the pond for a year and possibly staying on to design schools all over the country is no longer attractive to you? If you didn’t want the job then why did you tender?”

Because I was once accused of lacking an adventurous spirit and told I was stuck in archaic Border ways
,
too rigid to change.
And because after seeing Anjuli in London I wanted to get as far away from the U.K.
as I could.

“I haven’t turned it down yet.”

Ben sipped his whisky in silence, making him feel more defensive by the second. It was little wonder toughened criminals were scared bloodless by Ben. He had a way of making you spill your guts without lifting a finger.

“I’ve got until the end of the summer to negotiate the contract. I’m no’ sure I want to live abroad for so long anymore.”

“You were sure before Anjuli came back. Don’t tell me you didn’t want the job, no’ when you withdrew your candidacy for the Council to free yourself up for it.”

“Let it go, or I’ll tell Mac you’ve run out of divorcees to handcuff.”

An alarmed look, and Ben changed the subject to an upcoming football match between Heaverlock and Halton. They kept the conversation to local topics, but Ben’s pointed glances said he wouldn’t let up on Anjuli until he was sure Rob wasn’t in danger of getting hurt. Whisky polished off, Ben went to bed and Rob studied his drawings for Castle Manor.