Beautiful Liar (20 page)

We were both subdued on the journey back. I couldn't help worrying about how Alex was going to react to the events of the evening. If his recent behaviour was anything to go by, I could expect another all-night party. The thought was exhausting.

When Giles pulled up outside the apartment block, I
thanked him for the lift home. He leaned over, and I assumed he was going to kiss me on the cheek like before, but instead he bent his head and kissed me full on the mouth.

I was so shocked that I didn't react at first. Then my hands came up to his chest and I pushed him away.

Instinctively I looked around, and I knew I was searching for Alex, concerned that he might have spotted us. But fortunately he was nowhere to be seen. Then I turned my attention back to Giles.

“Why on earth did you do that?”

“Why do you think?” He was looking at me as though I was mad.

I blinked. It hadn't occurred to me that Giles felt anything for me other than friendship. His behaviour had seemed almost big-brotherly—nothing else. And as much as I liked and admired him, I didn't feel anything romantic at all. It was a shame. He was hard-working and reliable—the kind of guy I'd always hoped to end up with. But unfortunately it turned out my heart wanted something entirely different.

And to be honest, I wasn't convinced he felt anything for me, either. I imagined a well-mannered upper class girl was more his type than someone like me. I couldn't help wondering how much of this sudden interest was to do with being competitive with his brother, whether he realised it or not.

“I'm sorry, Giles—” I began.

He swore under his breath, cutting me off. “You've spent all this time protesting that you don't want anything to do with Alex, but nothing could be further from the truth. At least be honest with yourself.”

I couldn't think of anything to say to that. Clearly Giles didn't deal well with things that didn't go his way, and the best I could do was leave him to nurse his wounded pride. So I got out of the car, and watched as he drove away.

* * *

It was nearly two in the morning when I heard movement in the apartment. I had been asleep for almost an hour by then, and the sound of someone moving around in the living room downstairs made me jerk awake.

Lying in the dark, I listened to the heavy footsteps on the stairs, and Alex's bedroom door slamming shut. It sounded like he was alone.

I lay there thinking about what to do. The sensible part of me knew I should go back to sleep, but deep down I had no intention of doing that. After everything that had happened tonight, I needed to see Alex.

Before I could give too much thought to what I was doing, I pushed the duvet back, got out of bed and made my way to his room.

Outside, I paused. I could feel my heart thumping in my
chest, and my stomach had that cold, nervous feeling I hated. Swallowing down my fear, I knocked on the door.

The hollow sound seemed to reverberate around the high-ceilinged mezzanine. I waited for a long moment, but there was no answer. I debated what to do. It felt like I'd come too far to turn back now, so I knocked again. This time, when there was still no answer, I twisted the handle down and pushed the door open a crack.

“Alex?” I said tentatively into the darkened room. I could just about make out his shape lying fully clothed on top of the covers. All I could hear was the sound of his breathing. “Alex?” I repeated.

There was silence for a moment, and then, “What?”

Knowing he was awake emboldened me, so I stepped into the room. From there, I could see him stretched out, one arm thrown over his eyes. “I just came to check that you were all right.”

“Well, as you can see, I'm fine. Job done. So you can run along.”

I paused for a moment, and then instead of leaving I went over and perched on his bed. He hadn't bothered to close the electronic blinds, so the room wasn't in total darkness, just more of a shadowy gloom. It let me see the way his jaw tightened as he felt my weight press down the mattress. With a sigh, he moved his arm from his eyes, so he was staring up at me.

“It's been a long night, darling.” As he spoke, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He must have been drinking—heavily—for the rest of the evening, but he was still coherent. “So why don't you tell me what you want, so we can all get some much needed sleep.”

I didn't bother to answer. Instead, I touched my hand to his cheek, allowing my thumb to gently caress his skin. I watched as he frowned in confusion. Then, a second later, I lowered my mouth to his, in a soft, light kiss.

After a second, I drew away a little to gauge his reaction. He stared up at me with a blank expression on his face, and I noticed his arms were firmly by his sides. It wasn't quite the reaction I'd been expecting, but I could guess what was going through his mind—I'd rejected him so many times. Now, he was going to make me work for it.

I'd never really thought of myself as someone who liked playing games, but suddenly the idea of being in control, of having to seduce him, appealed to me.

“Fair enough,” I murmured. “If that's the way you want to play it . . .”

I bent my head, and began to kiss him again, harder this time. Once more, he stayed totally still, but this just spurred me on. My lips prised his apart, my tongue moving against his. The more unresponsive he was, the more I wanted to push him. I was hardly aware of what I was doing as I moved so I was kneeling on the bed, straddling his thighs. I grabbed
his arms, and pinned his wrists above his head, so I was kissing him furiously, my soft breasts pressing against his hard chest.

That was it. He gave what sounded like a groan of defeat, and his arms closed around me, pulling me to him, and he was kissing me back, his mouth rough and demanding.

He might have made a point of not being engaged at first, but now it seemed he was determined to take control. In one effortless move, he flipped me over onto my back. He pulled his head away briefly, his eyes searching mine in the semi-darkness.

“What the hell's got into you?” he murmured.

“Why?” I have to admit that I was enjoying the look of confusion on his face. “Are you objecting?”

A smile crossed his face. “Not at all.”

He bent his head, and his lips found mind again. After a while, I felt him unbuttoning my pyjama top, touching each breast until the nipples hardened. I squirmed a little as his hand trailed down across my stomach, finding its way under the waistband of my pyjama bottoms, and moving lower and lower. And then his fingers found something—so pleasurable that I gasped, my nails digging into his back.

As Alex's touch deepened, my eyes fluttered closed and my whole body tensed and stretched, poised deliciously on the brink of something I'd never felt before.

Right then, I wanted him more than anything in the
world. I didn't care if it was just for one night.

But through the haze of good feelings, a nagging voice was telling me that this was a bad idea. The rational side of me was screaming out to put the brakes on. It was all moving so fast. Everything felt like it was getting out of control. This was my first time—did I really want it to be this way? With some guy who would probably have forgotten about me by tomorrow?

Finally I pulled away, struggling to catch my breath.

“We can't do this.”

“Why the hell not?” He was breathing hard, too. His eyes swept mine. He sounded impatient, frustrated, and I didn't blame him. I'd started this, and now I was telling him no. He deserved an explanation.

I just didn't know where to start. There were so many reasons. We were from different worlds. I worked for his family. People I trusted kept warning me to stay away from him . . .

But although those were all good reasons, they weren't the main one. Most of all, it was because my feelings for him scared me. I knew instinctively—had known from the moment I met him—that this was a man I could fall for. And if I let myself, then I was going to fall hard. And when it all ended—as it undoubtedly would—I would be the one who ended up hurt.

He kissed me again, and part of me wanted to give in to
all the good feelings, to forget being sensible for one night. But I knew better than that.

“Wait.” I broke away again. It was all going so fast. I'd come because I'd wanted to be with Alex, but now that the moment was there, I felt like I needed to catch my breath, to be really sure of what I was doing and the choice I was making.

“Can we slow down a bit?” I could see him frowning, as if he was wondering what was going on. Knowing what I had to admit to next, I lowered my eyes a little, unable to meet his gaze. “It's just—well, I've never done this before.”

I hadn't relished the idea of admitting my inexperience to someone as sophisticated as Alex. I sneaked a look up at him, and he seemed to be trying to process the information—to work out exactly what I meant. Then I saw his eyes register surprise. “What are you saying? That you're a virgin?”

“That's right.” I gave a nervous laugh. “That's what happens when you've got an alcoholic mother and a younger sister to take care of. It doesn't leave a lot of time for guys.”

For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of our breathing. Alex's expression was unreadable. I bit my lip a little, sensing that all wasn't as it should be.

“Is that okay?” I said in a small voice, one that didn't sound like my own. I was usually so tough—it seemed strange to suddenly feel so vulnerable.

“Yeah, of course. I understand.”

We stared at each other for a long moment. I could tell he was wondering what to do. I guessed it was up to me to get things started again, so I put my hands on his bare shoulders and drew him down to me.

He started kissing me again, but this time I felt his heart wasn't in it. There was an awkwardness and hesitancy that hadn't been there before. His hands weren't roaming my body anymore, and he seemed to be trying his hardest not to press any part of himself against me. It was as though he was holding back. I arched against him, trying to let him know that it was all right to touch me, but I felt him stiffen and a second later he pulled away.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “This was a mistake.”

Before I could say anything, he rolled off me, hauled himself up, and stumbled from the room.

I lay there half-undressed in his bed, feeling strangely sad, rejected and disappointed. I listened as he made his way downstairs, and put some music on. Once I was sure he wasn't coming back, I buttoned and straightened my pyjamas, and made my way back to my room.

When I got up the next morning, Alex wasn't there. For the next couple of days our paths didn't cross, and I couldn't help wondering if he was avoiding me. Part of me was glad—I was so embarrassed by what had happened between us that I had no desire to see him again. But then I also knew that I was going to have to face him at some point, and I wanted to get it over with sooner rather than later.

Things with Giles were awkward, too. I saw him a couple of times at the club, and he just nodded curtly in my direction.

On Saturday night, Alex's posse turned up at Destination, but he wasn't with them. I felt unreasonably put out, and spent the evening growling at everyone.

“What's up with you?” Jas asked me eventually, after I'd snapped at her for no reason for the third time that evening.

“Nothing.”

She raised an eyebrow at my short, snappy answer. “Yeah. Sure seems that way.”

I got back to the apartment that night feeling more drained than normal. I bypassed the kitchen and my usual late-night snack, and went straight to my room. I flopped into the armchair by my bed, pulled off my socks, and began to massage my tired right foot.

I'd just started on the left, when my mobile rang. I snatched it up. It was half past three in the morning, so I knew whatever it was about couldn't be good. But when the number that flashed up was our social worker's, I felt my heart-rate speed up.

I wasn't entirely surprised when Maggie Walker informed me that April had run away from her foster home that evening. As she quickly ran through the details of what had happened, I closed my eyes.

Why did you have to do this now, April? I told you to hang on . . .

“Do you have any idea where she might've got to?” Maggie said.

I hesitated before answering. I did, but I didn't want strangers going to find April.

“I've got a few thoughts. Let me make some calls.”

I pulled my shoes back on, and ran downstairs. Once I was outside, I would easily find a cab. The lift pinged just as I
reached it, and the doors opened to reveal Alex with his arm slung round Lavinia. He glanced over at me, no doubt about to fire off some mocking remark, but then he looked at me again and the smirk left his face.

“What's happened?” His hand dropped from Lavinia's waist and he stepped towards me.

It was strange—I'd spent the past few days being worried about seeing him again. But now, after the news about April, I found I couldn't care less. All I could think of was her.

“It's my sister.” I was so scared for her that the words just came out, without me considering whether I wanted Alex to know. Right then, I just had to confide in someone. “She's run away from her foster home. She's only fourteen. I have to find her.”

“Fine.” His voice was clipped, authoritative. “I'll drive.”

I hesitated for just a split second. Whatever was going on between Alex and me, April took priority. And getting a lift from him was going to be far quicker than taking a cab.

“You're sober?” I couldn't smell any alcohol on him, but I had to make sure. Luckily, he didn't look offended.

“Haven't touched a drop.”

“Then let's go.”

“What about me?”

Alex and I both turned to Lavinia.