Seducing Phoebe (Crimson Romance) (7 page)

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Authors: Nicole Flockton

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Seducing Phoebe (Crimson Romance)
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“I thought you’d gone,” she said, and then wished she could take the words back. Even she heard the hurt in her voice.

“I went back to the hotel and freshened up.”

Finding out he was staying at a hotel should’ve relieved her concern that he wouldn’t demand to stay with her. Except she didn’t feel relief, she felt disappointment.

“How long have you been standing there?” The thought of him watching her and her not being aware of his presence was a little disconcerting. But then again, her internal radar had always been a little off with him. Another sign that perhaps they weren’t meant for each other. Sophie always knew the exact moment Alex walked into a room. She could’ve been in the middle of a conversation but Sophie would always turn her head and smile in Alex’s direction. Ironically, Marco had always known where she had been, especially at his various work functions. It had been comforting to know that he always came to her rescue if she’d ever needed it.

“I haven’t been here long. I took your keys. I hope you don’t mind. I left you a note so you wouldn’t worry when you couldn’t find them.”

“You left me a note? Where?” Phoebe couldn’t recall seeing a note anywhere when she’d come downstairs from her nap. Admittedly she hadn’t been looking for a piece of paper, she’d been looking for a six-foot-two man.

Marco closed the distance between them and took her hand, leading her back inside. She noted that the lamps on the side tables had been turned on, giving the room a soft glow as dusk settled into night. Marco must’ve turned them on before he’d come outside, because she certainly hadn’t thought of it.

“The note’s right here,” he said as he pointed to the piece of paper propped up on the kitchen bench. It was in plain sight and she couldn’t believe she’d missed it.

“Oh, right, well I didn’t come into the kitchen when I came downstairs. But thank you for leaving it. I probably wouldn’t have missed the keys. Being the only house for miles there’s no real need to lock doors.”

She shivered as he brushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. “There’s always a need to be careful.”

It took every ounce of her willpower not to take a couple of steps to close the distance between them and lay her head on his strong chest and feel his arms wrap around her. She took a step away, widening the distance, but still facing him, trapped by his gaze.

“So why did you come back?” How many times had she said that already? She then remembered that he hadn’t told her how he’d found her. “You never did tell me how you found out where I was. You said you didn’t speak to Sophie and I believe that.”

“You should know I don’t lie. I hate people who lie.”

That was news to her. “Umm no, you’ve never mentioned you have a thing for liars.”

She noticed his shoulders seemed to tense before they relaxed, as if he was remembering something truly unpleasant.

“Anyway, I found you by using this.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and as his fingers moved over the touch screen she wondered what the heck he was doing. He held out his phone. “Here, this is how I found you.”

Phoebe took the phone from him, her fingers brushing his, lingering momentarily to make a connection between them. She looked at the screen and recognized the application. There had been times, in the past, when she’d been at work and pulled her phone out, tempted to see where he was. But she hadn’t. She’d forgotten that he’d be able to find her. She should’ve deleted the app, but she hadn’t given it a thought. In fact, she had turned her phone to silent mode and put it on top of the fridge the moment after she’d sent a text to Sophie to let her know that she’d arrived safely. She’d been worried that John would continue his text and calling campaign. She never expected that Marco would come searching for her. She’d broken their engagement — if the roles had been reversed she would’ve been burning everything he’d ever given her.

She handed back his phone. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“That you’re happy to see me?”

Phoebe laughed. For some reason, at this moment in time, things didn’t seem so overwhelming. “Yes, Marco, I am happy to see you.”

“Good.” His overconfidence should’ve bothered her but she was coming to accept it as part of him. A secret corner of her heart was thrilled that he was chasing her. Was it because he more than just cared for her, or was it because his ego was bruised that she’d broken off their engagement? There was only one way to find out.

“Well now that I know why you’re here and that, yes, it is good to see you, care to answer why you chased me down?”

She stood her ground as he closed the distance between them.

“I came because I couldn’t stay away.”

“Is your ego hurt because I broke off our engagement?”

He shook his head and pulled her into his embrace. As he wrapped his arms around her she held herself stiff. She didn’t want to let him know she was getting used to being held by him again.

“My ego isn’t hurt, but I believe I told you it wasn’t over and it isn’t. I’m not planning on letting you go.”

He shifted and she knew he was going to try and kiss her. She couldn’t think when he did that. Phoebe moved quickly out of his embrace. She could tell it was the last thing he expected. It was clear Marco thought she was going to go along with everything he said or did. And after the kisses they’d shared that afternoon she could understand why he would think that.

“Don’t you start pressuring me too, Marco,” she said tiredly. “I came here to get away from that. You’re as bad as John.”

It was like she’d physically slapped him with the way he moved three steps back. As she looked up, she saw the anger in his eyes — it blasted at her like the setting sun over the ocean. The last time she’d seen that look had been the night they’d broken up. It wasn’t a look she enjoyed having directed in her vicinity.

“You’ve seen John again?”

Phoebe nodded, not game to say anything, worried about how he would react. Oh, she knew he wasn’t going to hurt her but she could see the tenseness in his jaw.

“You saw him here? But you told me earlier you weren’t expecting to see him here.” He spat the words out as if he’d tasted moldy food.

“No,” she burst out. “The only person who has interrupted my solitude is you.”

“When did you see him last then?”

She knew he wasn’t going to like what she had to say next. “The night we broke up.”

• • •

Marco had to walk away — if he didn’t, he would punch the wall. The thought of Phoebe, his Phoebe, talking — and maybe more — to that man the night they’d broken up, filled him with a rage he hadn’t felt since he’d found out that Veronika was a fake and a fraud.

But, like watching a train wreck, he had to find out all the details. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he found out they spent the night together — even if it was just talking.

“What did he want?”

“Do you really want to do this, Marco? He’s not here, you are.”

A harsh laugh erupted from him. “How do I know you haven’t told him to come up after you’d been here a week?”

As the color rose up in her face, he knew he’d taken it a step too far.

“Really? You think I want him up here? I came here to try and sort out what my feelings are for you. For him. I wanted time to think, to work out what I wanted for a future, and I’m here two days and you turn up. If you were any type of decent guy, you’d have left by now.”

For a moment Marco was lost for words. She was right. He should’ve left her alone. But the need to be near her had overwhelmed his senses. He wanted her, and he didn’t want to believe their relationship was over.

He was going to show her that they were meant to be together. He knew they could build on the physical side of their relationship. He cared for her, worried about her. He kept telling himself it wasn’t love — it couldn’t be love, because to fall in love would be to put himself at risk again, and he wasn’t sure he could be that vulnerable — but he knew, deep inside, he would cherish her for the rest of his life. If only she’d let him.

“You know what?” he started conversationally. “You’re right — I probably should’ve left you alone. But here’s where I’m different from John. I don’t give up. He already walked away from you once, and though I’m sure he is now professing how he’d made a stupid mistake in letting you go and wants you back, I’m not walking away. I’m staying.

“To prove what, Marco?”

“That I’m the man for you. That we are meant to be together.”

“And that’s not pressuring me? How am I supposed to work out what I want with you here every second of the day? You know why I came here; why can’t you respect my wishes? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

Her last words were said so despondently that he wondered if he was pushing too much. Perhaps it would be best to leave her alone. But what if John found out where she was? What if John came and saw her? Marco wasn’t prepared to take that risk. He knew that if they could spend some time together, just the two of them, really getting to know each other, then it would all work out. He’d realized that on the drive up. That they hadn’t spent time getting to know each other properly. Not in a share your deep, dark secrets kind of way. Well not for him anyway. He hadn’t really touched on the subject of Veronika with her. He’d only given a vague reference to past relationships not working out.

“I don’t want to leave you alone, Phoebe.” He closed the distance between them again and pulled her tight against him. He would never get sick of holding her in his arms. She fit perfectly as if she had been made for him, and only him. He ran his hands up her back, trying to make her relax. It was really like holding a piece of board. “I think we should start over,” he whispered softly, the need to press his lips against the soft shell of her ear almost over powering him.

“I think it’s too late.”

“It’s never too late to start again. I can’t — no, I
won’t
— let you go, Phoebe.”

He dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head and released her from his embrace. “So how about we start with dinner tonight?”

• • •

“How about we don’t.” The last thing Phoebe wanted to do was go to an intimate restaurant with Marco. Her body was still radiating heat from his whispering in her ear. It was like not seeing each other for a couple of days had heightened her attraction to him. But attraction didn’t sustain a relationship. There had to be more. Could she have more with Marco? Did she want to take the risk? The last time she’d given her heart to someone it had been trodden all over. So why get engaged to a man she didn’t love?

You sure you don’t love him?
a little voice inside her head taunted her. No, she did not love Marco. She cared, that was all. Caring was safe. They would’ve had a safe, stable marriage. The sex was good — better than good — and she had thought she would’ve been happy with that.

“I’ll cook.” Marco’s offer broke her from her internal thoughts.

“What?”

“I said I will cook.”

“What, bacon and eggs?”

In all the time they’d been together he’d only ever cooked breakfast or a snack, like he did today when he’d arrived. A vision of Marco in nothing but a white towel flipping pancakes entered her mind. Her mouth watered and she didn’t know if it was from the thought of food or the thought of Marco bare-chested. She needed to get him to leave if she was going to try and keep her sanity.

“Yes, I can cook something more than bacon and eggs and BLTs.”

Phoebe scrambled to come up with a reason to have him not cook for her. Cooking had always suggested intimacy to her. Two people chatting casually, sharing a glass of wine, stealing kisses in between tending to various pots bubbling away on the stove.

“So what do you say, shall I cook us dinner?”

“I’ve got no food,” she blurted out, grasping on an excuse that wasn’t quite untrue. She did need to go to the shops. That had been her plan today after her swim, only her plans had been totally derailed by the man standing in front of her, looking so sexy and at home in this house, smiling the smile of a Cheshire cat.

“There’s food. I went shopping before I came here.”

She sighed, knowing there was no way she was going to get out of it. Marco had planned everything. She should’ve known he would have a plan; he was a highly sought after architect. He designed multi-story buildings and shopping malls — he made sure everything was thought of in his designs, so there was no way he wouldn’t have thought of everything tonight.

“Fine, you win. We’ll eat here.” She paused and gave him a direct stare, hoping that he couldn’t see the attraction she still felt for him burning in her eyes. “But the moment the meal is finished you’re leaving. Deal?”

He wandered back towards her and touched a hand to her cheek. The touch was so gentle and caring it took all her strength not to turn her face and kiss his warm palm. His small touches were intoxicating. “I’ll agree to part of the deal. I’ll cook, but I decide when I leave.”

Phoebe could’ve argued more, but she knew it would be a hopeless cause. Beneath the sexy glint in his eyes, resolve shone.

“Fine,” she agreed. “Now pour me a wine. I’m thirsty.” She knew she sounded bitchy, but his nearness to her and this new determination he was showing her had her slightly rattled.

“Pardon?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Please can you pour me a glass of wine?” she said with a sweet smile.

He nodded. “Go out onto the deck, I’ll bring it out to you.”

Phoebe made her escape to the patio. The sun had well and truly set and darkness enveloped her in its embrace. It was a beautiful night; a soft breeze brushed across her bare arms, and the shushing of the waves, as they rolled onto the shore before sweeping back out to be engulfed once again, gave the illusion that all was right in the world. She would’ve preferred to see five-foot waves and a swirling wind. It would’ve matched the emotions going through her.

“Here’s your wine, and … ” He placed a platter of cheese and crackers on the table. “Also a little something for you to eat while I fire up the grill. Steak and salad sound good?”

Phoebe turned and took the wine from Marco, careful not to touch his fingers; the last thing she wanted was to drop the glass at his feet. “Thank you, and way to impress a woman — steak and salad. Here I was thinking that you were going to whip me up something more gourmet.”

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