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Authors: Christy McKellen

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BOOK: Holiday with a Stranger
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‘No. I hate the place. I’ve no plans ever to go back to England.’

She wasn’t surprised. She couldn’t picture him there somehow, with his casual manner and self-contained attitude. He was too big for the place—too vibrant and healthy. She knew how London could suck the life out of a person, and she couldn’t bear the thought of that happening to Connor.

‘So what’s next for you?’ she asked.

‘This new project in India, then who knows?’

‘It sounds like a hard life. Don’t you crave some stability?’ She hoped he couldn’t feel the heavy thumping of her heart against his chest.

Connor snorted. ‘I like things the way they are. I feel trapped if I stay somewhere too long.’

A heavy weight thunked into her stomach. ‘Right.’

She thought about her own life. How different they were. Apart from the odd business trip she spent the majority of her time in one place; he never seemed to stay still for long.

‘You must find it hard to hold down any relationship if you’re always moving on?’ She prayed the shake in her voice wouldn’t give her away.

Connor nodded. ‘Yeah.’

Josie waited for him to elaborate. The silence stretched on.

She wasn’t ever going to see him again. She knew that. She just didn’t want to believe it. He was right; they lived in different worlds. Different universes.

How was she going to go back to her old life, knowing he was out there somewhere but that she’d never see him again? What if it always felt as if a piece of her was constantly missing?

She liked him. She really,
really
liked him.

Trying to shake off the thought, she told herself she’d forget all about him once she got her head back into work, but she was uncomfortably aware that the lure of working didn’t hold the appeal it once had.

What had she done? She’d gone and replaced one obsession with another, and this new one was going to stride out of the door some time very soon and never look back.

* * *

Connor cursed himself. He’d known this would happen. The subtle questions about what he was doing next and the not so subtle one asking how he could live like that were already being wheeled out. How could he have thought it was going to be any different with Josie? She’d seemed so autonomous he’d thought he’d get away with it this time, but she was already ringing conversational warning bells.

Damn it.

Not that the thought of what it would be like to see more of her hadn’t flitted through his mind. But that was all it had been—a passing whim. He’d banished the thought as soon as it sprang into his consciousness. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do this again. Not after the mess with Katherine. He wasn’t ready to give enough of himself to a relationship—not when there was still so much to fix in the world.

There was that hot, panicky feeling again—which he refused to acknowledge this time. It wasn’t going to get the better of him.
She
wouldn’t get the better of him. This thing between them had a use-by date, which was now uncomfortably close. She obviously felt it too if she was starting to ask the
Where are we going now?
questions.

A sudden blinding anger coursed through him. Why the hell was she going there when they’d agreed not to? Now he was going to look like the bad guy again when he put an end to this fling.

She turned on the sofa to face him and he had to grit his teeth and force a smile, so as not to alert her to the raging fury he was battling with.

He obviously wasn’t doing a very good job because she frowned and drew back.

Before she could ask him anything else he put his hands on either side of her face and pulled her roughly towards him. Kissing her hard, he pushed her down onto her back and ran his hands up under her skirt.

He wanted to stop her asking any more of him than he felt able to give, and this was the best way he knew. As good an avoidance technique as any.

Pulling her lacy knickers roughly away from her body, he heard the delicate material rip. Opening his eyes, he saw she had hers open too and was staring at him in surprise. Tamping down on a twist of self-reproach, he moved away from her, pulling her with him and guiding her off the sofa onto her knees, so she had her back to him and her belly pressed into the soft cushions.

‘Spread your legs,’ he said, and she complied without a word.

Her total submission thrilled him and his erection pressed hard against the material of his trousers, eager for action. Reaching into his back pocket, he extracted a condom, then freed himself from his clothing so he could roll it on.

Shifting her skirt, he slid between her legs, pressing against her soft folds so she could feel how hard he was.

She gasped as he rubbed himself against her, the action becoming easier as she became slipperier with her own silky arousal. He nudged her clitoris each time he thrust against her and she let out a low moan as he drew back and forth over her sensitive nerves.

Hands splayed in front of her, she dropped her forehead to the cushions, refusing to look back at him. She was giving herself to him without barriers—without any kind of fight for once—and it almost stopped him in his tracks. This wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want her compliant and withdrawn. He wanted her fiery and passionate and playful.

‘Just do it. Stop torturing me and
do
it.’

Her voice was ragged, strained and urgent. Even though he knew this wasn’t just about the sex it didn’t stop him from burying himself inside her, plunging himself right up to the hilt. Grabbing her hips in his hands, he took long, deep strokes inside her, punishing her for the words, the questions, the need.

A surge of dull pain in his chest and an aching tightness in his lungs distracted him for a second, but he battled against it. He wouldn’t let it win—wouldn’t let
her
win. Not this battle.

He slammed into her over and over again, hearing her grunt and gasp under him, her long hair flying across her back as they moved forcefully together. Reaching round, he found the slick nub of her clit and flicked his thumb over it, feeling her twitch and spasm beneath him as her gasps became louder and more intense.

‘Come for me now, Josie,’ he demanded, and she did, her tight muscles clamping around him, drawing him in deeper, the rock of her body urging him to go harder as she came.

It only took another couple of strokes before he was there too, pouring himself into her, the disorientating sensation muddled with his anger and desperation and confusion.

* * *

As they lay recovering, their bodies pressed closely together on the sofa, Josie was horrified to find her throat tight from trying to suppress a deep sob from escaping. Her eyes burned with unshed tears and her stomach clenched in pain.

No, no, no.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was supposed to be fun, emotion-free sex to get her mojo back. A treat.

He’d been angry with her for asking about continuing this fling when she’d promised she wouldn’t, and that had been unemotional I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-this sex. A way of telling her to back off without actually saying it.

‘I’m going for a shower,’ she managed to mutter through a painfully constricted throat, extracting herself from Connor’s heavy limbs and readjusting her skirt to at least partly cover herself.

Her movements were jerky and uncoordinated and her hands shook as she flattened her hair against her head. She didn’t look at him and left the room before he had a chance to comment on how strung out she was.

By the time she’d finished showering she felt almost normal again.

Almost.

She had to pull herself together. She couldn’t go back to work in a worse state than when she’d left—how could she ever explain
that
to Abi? It was bad enough that she’d had sex with her friend’s brother; she definitely couldn’t take her emotional distress back to impact on her already shaky relationship with the staff. This was exactly why she shouldn’t have let anything develop with him.

It was time to think about leaving.

If she didn’t go now she’d never make it out with her heart intact.

Going into the bedroom, she found Connor dressing in jeans and a soft black cotton T-shirt that stretched across his massive shoulders and hugged the contoured muscles of his arms. Her heart lurched at the sight. God, she was going to miss his amazing body.

‘What is it?’ His voice was gruff.

Josie took a breath. Why was she so nervous about saying it? She was sure it would mean nothing to him if she left. In fact he’d probably be pleased to have his solitude back.

‘I have to get back to London. I can’t leave Abi to handle everything any longer. She must be run ragged by now.’

Connor just looked at her, his expression unreadable. He nodded. ‘Right.’ His hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides. He looked away, through the window at the darkening night sky.

‘You can have your house back.’

‘Great.’

Ask me not to go
, she begged him silently. She needed to know this had meant something to him, that she wasn’t just some diversion. Not that she had any right to expect that. She’d been using him too, hadn’t she?

Connor turned to face her. She stood there rigidly, not sure what to do or say next. He walked towards her and she tensed in anticipation. Stopping directly in front of her, he placed a finger under her chin and tipped it up so her gaze met his.

‘Is that really why you’re leaving?’

‘You know it’s not.’

‘Then don’t go.’

Connor’s demand both pleased and shocked her. She looked at him in disbelief, excitement bubbling in her stomach. ‘What are you asking me?’

‘Stay here with me for one more week. It’s my birthday next Saturday. Help me celebrate.’

Her heart sank. He only wanted a few more days. Nothing more. ‘I didn’t think you’d be the type to celebrate birthdays.’

‘I’m not usually.’

She looked away from him, barely holding it together. ‘I can’t. My sister’s up for a Best Presenter award that weekend and I promised to go and support her.’

She’d had no intention of actually going when Maddie had asked her—she found those things excruciating to sit through on her own, being ignored while people fawned over her sister—but after talking to Connor about her it somehow seemed to matter less now. The tight ball of angst she carried round with her had shrunk to a manageable size. And it was as good an excuse as any.

Connor let his hand drop.

‘Okay, well, have fun and don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out,’ he said.

There wasn’t a flicker of emotion on his face.

How could he behave so flippantly about this?

Because he didn’t care enough.

A surge of anger exploded in her chest. ‘I live in the real world, Connor. I face things head-on, even if it’s tough.’

He stared at her, his expression darkening. ‘How did this conversation get turned around on me?’

She let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Perhaps it’s your guilty conscience making the leap?’

‘Josie, go home if that’s what you want.’

He sounded totally unconcerned.

The pain of his rejection burned in her chest. ‘So that’s it for us? You’re cutting me out of your life because I won’t bend to your will? I’m just another project you’ve completed?’

He gave her such a condescending look she wanted to prod him hard, just to get some sort of emotional reaction. Instead she did something much worse.

‘Come with me to the awards ceremony,’ she blurted, her heart pounding so fast she thought she might pass out.

He looked incredulous. ‘And do what?’

‘I don’t know.’ She flapped her hands in the air in exasperation. ‘Just
be
.’

‘You want me to make nice with your family? Shove me under their noses to win some attention away from your sister?’

‘No,’ she said, gritting her teeth. But she did. She wanted that, and more.
Much
more.

He sighed and rubbed a hand forcefully back and forth through his hair. ‘Then what do you want from me?’

‘I don’t know. Nothing.’

I want you to want to keep exploring whatever the hell this thing is between us. Come to London.

But she knew she couldn’t ask that of him. He’d never do it in a million years.

He took a step backwards, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. ‘I can’t offer long-term commitment, Josie. I’m not interested in that. It wouldn’t be fair to you. I’m always on the move. That’s what went wrong with my other relationships—I couldn’t give them the attention they needed. Anyway, I can’t be with someone who puts her job before me.’

‘That’s your reasoning? That your past relationships didn’t work so this one won’t either?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m a realist.’

She snorted. ‘What would
you
know about realism? When have you ever had to stick your neck out to make a go of something? You have no idea what it’s like to fight for something. You’ve had everything given to you on a plate. You’ll never have to wake up in the morning and wonder whether you still have a business to go to. You’ve got so much money you can afford to give it away, so please don’t lecture me about how to live my life. You do whatever the hell you want, when you want, and then just up and leave when things get too hard to handle. You’re mad because I’m beating you to the punch this time.’

She could see tension working the muscles in his shoulders, and as he turned to face her his jaw was clamped in anger.

‘You’re right. You should go. It sounds like this relationship’s walked into a brick wall.’

‘I didn’t think this
was
a relationship.’

He gave her a cold smile. ‘It’s not.’

Josie felt sick. Where had the compassionate man she’d begun to unearth gone? How could he be so callous after all they’d shared?

She fought to keep her voice under control, but the pain that his words provoked was nearly blinding her. ‘I thought there was more to you than this. That the loner persona was a front. But it’s not, is it? You’ll always be one hundred per cent for yourself. One day you’ll need to stop and face what’s chasing you away. Be a man.’

BOOK: Holiday with a Stranger
13.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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