How to Win a Guy in 10 Dates (10 page)

His chest constricted at the thought. New plan. He needed to head back, and fast. That way he might have a chance of catching her before she went. Breaking into a run, he careered across the village square, colliding with tourists, ignoring the incensed cries that echoed after him. Reaching the grassy space at the edge of the buildings, he paused in the dappled shade of the plane trees, catching his breath, taking one last look, just in case.

Boots. His heart gave a bang. Sticking out from behind a tree.

‘Millie?’

He dashed around, and found her, back propped against the trunk, legs stretched out in the dust. Head lolling, hair like she’d been dragged through a hedge, as per usual, a half-eaten French stick in her lap.

Fast asleep.

Full lips just begging for a Sleeping Beauty kiss. Or maybe not, if he valued his life, given the smoke that had been coming out of her ears as she left. Crouching beside her, he rested his hand in soft the crook of her arm and nudged her gently.

‘Millie, wake up.’

A snort, a cough, two blinks, and she was staring him straight in the eye.

‘I’m not asleep.’

And grouchy as expected.

‘Whatever.’

She sniffed, and rumpled her hair, as if that was possible, then she screwed the top off a coke bottle in her hand, took a swig, then pushed it towards him. ‘Drink?’

But why wasn’t she yelling at him? He shook his head. Pushed away how mussed and sexy she looked as he slid down beside her. ‘Okay if I sit down?’

She snorted again, and threw him a sideways dead-eye. Not happy then. That he could live with.

‘I see you bought breakfast.’ One inane, paltry attempt at polite conversation. He should be able to do better than that.

‘My last three Euros. I came to get cash to leave, but there’s a block on my card.’ She let out a long, disgruntled sigh, picked up a handful of pebbles, and then trickled them to the ground, one by one. ‘Looks like I’m stranded. I may yet have to turn to the stripping that you’re so fixated with.’

So ‘stranded’ explained everything, especially the deflation. She wasn’t in a strong position. Nice side swipe about the stripping though. Catching an end-on view of her bitter grimace, he sent a personal thank-you to the god of ATM’s. Without that card block she’d have been long gone.

‘Don’t worry, I brought you here, I’ll get you home. You can go where you want, when you want.’ Not exactly picking-up-the-action-where-they-left-off he’d planned, but he owed her some respect. And he had no idea where the hell the Challenge had disappeared to, or where the need to gush apology was coming from. ‘And I’m sorry about the wealth thing. Obviously I didn’t know it was so important to you.’

She was staring intently at her feet now, as she drew her knees towards her. ‘So why the deception then?’

Why the heck did she have to be wearing shorts? He concentrated on not reaching out to slide his palm along the bronzed sheen of her thigh.

‘It’s easier not to flaunt the size of my bank balance, that’s all. It’s not exactly deception.’ Hey ho. Another whopper in the making. ‘People react differently if they think you’ve got money.’ At least that last bit was true.

‘People, as in women?’ She studied him through narrowed eyes.

Screwing him down again.

‘You could say that, yep.’

‘You mean girlfriends?’

‘No, not girlfriends Millie! I do pleasure, not girlfriends, remember?’

One dismissive sniff suggested she was buying it, grudgingly.

‘I’d still rather get home by myself than accept your help.’

‘I’m sure you would.’ Inspiration was seeping through here. ‘So why not stay, and go home as planned? That way you stay independent. It’s only another day after all.’

She jutted her chin. ‘I’m not sure.’

Indecision. Something he had to capitalise on, because the idea of her not staying was suddenly inconceivable. And, hey, it might help if he ignored the way her vest was doing such a bad job of concealing her breasts. This was no time to think about diving in and tonguing those strawberry nipples to distraction.

He cleared his throat, examined the backs of his fingers intently.

‘You may be wrong, giving everyone rich a hard time on the basis of one rogue guy in your past. The real problem with your ex wasn’t his cash, it was his morals. He’d have been low-life regardless of whether he had money or not. I may be rich, but at least I’m honest, and I’m not claiming to be anything other than I am. It shouldn’t matter a jot if I’m loaded or not when all we’re doing here is having a fun weekend.’

‘Maybe. When you put it like that.’

Great. So long as he could stop obsessing about slipping his hand up the leg of her shorts, stop visualising burying his fingers in her slippery warmth, he was going to keep to his word.

‘Don’t over-think things. Just enjoy.’ He dared a half grin. ‘You have to admit last night was great?’

Her face fell. Damn. He should have known that was a bridge too far.

‘Yes. But I can’t do any more of that if I stay. It’s all too … ’ She hesitated, screwing up her eyes as she searched for the word. ‘ … explosive?’

‘That’s one word for it.’ He couldn’t help swinging into a full grin now.

‘Are you okay with that?’

How about no? How about hard-on of the decade, banging for release? How about it being absolutely frigging impossible to keep his hands off her for an hour, let alone the rest of the weekend? ‘Fine. Whatever makes you comfortable.’

He sprang to his feet. Jeez, he’d have to have some sort of diversion. ‘So how about I make you an early lunch? And we’ll go and buy some strawberries from the market.’

Mind still on strawberries then.

‘Sounds good.’ She grasped his out-stretched hand, let him haul her to her feet, before she turned. ‘You know this doesn’t stop me being cross?’

Cross he could work with. Nothing so new about that.

She dusted down her bottom, and suddenly she was dead-eyeing him again.

What now?

‘And one more thing – about my boxes … ’

Who gave a damn about boxes anyway? A flicker of unease passed over her face. He’d instantly regretted lashing out about them back there anyway.

She had him fixed now with a fierce glare. ‘I need you to know, I’m not ripping anybody off.’

***

Distance.

Ed decided distance was definitely the key to success here. It should be possible to whip up a passable lunch, and keep his hands of her, so long as she didn’t come too close. If he could keep her at bay he’d be A-okay. Which was why he’d positioned her up on a bar stool, half way down the room, hulling strawberries. Except Millie, being Millie, was never going to make things easy, and right now she was sliding down to the floor, arching herself achingly towards him.

‘Where are you going now?’ He struggled to sound chilled.

‘Just to look at that photo over there. I noticed it before, but that was before your Mayor spilled his beans, so I didn’t realise it was your family then. That’s if you don’t mind?’

He aimed for unconcerned. ‘No, that’s fine.’

Except it was anything but. Millie knowing this was his home changed everything – and not in a good way. The first woman to have gained access to his inner world was dangerous enough to bring him out in a prickling sweat. But on the other hand, anything that kept her the other side of the kitchen was a plus for him. He tore himself away from the view of her perfect ass sashaying in the opposite direction, and went in search of eggs instead, dragging the back of his hand across his forehead to scrape away the perspiration.

‘Boy, I can pick you out right away. You must’ve been born moody and rock jawed. So come and show me who everyone else is.’

That darned photo. They were heading for a train wreck.

‘Well, my parents should be obvious, I’m the dark one you already spotted, Cassie’s the smallest one, Finn and Sophie are the big ones.’

‘And everyone blond except for you.’

So she’d noticed. It would’ve been more remarkable if she hadn’t. He braced himself for the explanation. ‘That’s because I’m adopted.’

He watched the airy expression drop off her face. Why the hell had he bothered to spill that one now? It was hardly necessary. He could easily have fudged it, and maybe he would have done if he hadn’t been wanting to retaliate, not for the way she’d crashed through his privacy barriers, but for the way she was opting out of sex. Pain for pain. She was making him damned uncomfortable. He could do the same for her.

‘Ah … ’ She floundered, but only for a moment, then she collected herself and flicked him a small smile. ‘Well you all look very happy anyway. And in a way being adopted is special, it’s like you’ve been chosen.’

He let out a derisive snort.

‘Everyone always smiles for the camera.’ Best set her straight about that, before he lobbed in the next bit. ‘And I wasn’t exactly chosen. There’s another sister too who’s older. She’s not there, but she’s my mother.’

‘Right … ’ She rubbed her nose pensively. ‘I see … ’

Except she didn’t. She had no idea what it was like to be the cuckoo in the happy family nest, to be the one whose mother had walked away and not come back. How would she? He was cracking through the eggs now, smashing them on the worktop edge, and then flinging them into a bowl. Hammering them to a froth with the whisk.

‘She got pregnant on holiday in Italy when she was seventeen, way too young to settle down obviously, so my grandparents adopted me, and brought me up like I was theirs. They were still young when it happened, and they had Cassie afterwards, just to make things really cosy.’

Seemingly oblivious to his bitter aside, she ran a slow finger across the glass.

‘And what about your real dad?’

How like Millie not to leave it at that.

With a crash, he grabbed a pan, and threw it onto the hob to heat. ‘An Italian mountain guide. We never met – he was killed in a climbing accident when I was small. You could say he’s responsible for my dark hair and not much else, apart from the name Eduardo, and my bad temper of course.’ One more crash, as if to emphasise the last bit.

‘Eduardo. That’s cool.’ Along the kitchen Millie put back the photo, and drew in a long breath, before she returned, and grasped the glass bowl.

‘Great! So that’s the strawberries done.’

Well done Millie. Nice change of subject. And his dirty laundry hung out for the world to see. Messy or what? He grimaced at the strewn pile of strawberry stalks she’d left, bleeding across the work surface. The first time he’d let a woman into his domain, and she’d cut straight into his underbelly with one easy slice. Exactly why he’d always kept them well away. ‘Damn, way too hot!’ The eggs spat savagely as they hit the smoking oil.

And damn for the way he’d been riled enough to let all that out. It was like he was sixteen again, and all he wanted to do was kick the hell out of something, and the only thing that ever helped was to blow something up. Why the heck hadn’t he simply emptied the ATM earlier himself, sent her on her way, and avoided all this?

But she was here, and she was responsible for unleashing all those old feelings. And she had it in her power to offer him explosions ten times more effective than rock-face blasting.

He’d just have to make damned sure she came through on that one.

OMELETTE, albeit slightly over-browned, delicious smoked salmon and salad, followed by strawberries and thick cream, was helping Millie ease back into the land of the living. She extended a tentative hand for more chilled white. She’d been hungry, and way too busy eating to talk, whilst Ed, on the other hand, had maintained a silence of the brooding kind. And the downside to that was his moody scowl, which made him ten times less available, yet ten times hotter at the same time, if that was even possible.

She mustn’t let her guard too far down. However well Ed cooked, he was a lot less real and honest than she had thought, whatever his excuses to the contrary, although it was impossible to focus on his dishonesty without her own conscience niggling. It wasn’t as if he’d asked, and it wasn’t that she’d deceived, but she hadn’t gone out of her way to make him aware of the truth of where she came from either. And earlier on this morning she’d been healthily furious with him, cross enough to storm across the village and attempt to make her escape. But two things were nagging at her now. One, the way she’d been so easily persuaded to stay, despite the fact he’d offered her an immediate free passage out of town, and two, the way her earlier fuming had subsided, way too quickly.

‘One refill.’ He topped her up, without meeting her eye, and clunked the bottle down into the ice bucket, those dangerous lips of his ironed into one grim line.

‘Thanks.’ She tried a grimace of a smile which she suspected he even didn’t see, let alone try to return. They could go on like this all day. Or she could lob in a question and try to see where the trouble lay.

‘So did you see much of your real mum when you were growing up?’

Bull’s eye! That brought his head jerking to attention. Hitting the nerve, then instantly regretting it as she read the storm in his eyes.

‘As if.’ A disparaging snarl shot through his scowl. ‘She was at Oxford, then when I was two she went to America on a uni exchange, and she stayed out there, pursuing a glittering academic career. Thirty odd years on, she’s approximately two steps away from running the world, not that I’d know particularly, because we’re what’s technically known as estranged.’

‘You sound cynical.’ Putting it mildly.

‘Nope, it was her life, she made her choices. It’s nothing to me.’ Tipping back in his chair now, he fixed her with a stare bleak enough to chill her blood.

Somehow she couldn’t believe they had no relationship at all. ‘And you don’t ever catch up now?’

‘You are joking? Why might I want to do that? I only have contempt for someone who dumped me and ran.’

Any hope in Millie’s voice leached away. ‘You sound as if you hate her?’

‘I wouldn’t give anyone so low-grade the benefit of such strong emotion.’

‘Aren’t you judging too harshly?’ She studied him, working out exactly how far she could go here, knowing her chin was jutting too defiantly. ‘From where I stand, your mother made a damned brave choice when she opted to have you. I mean, having a baby at seventeen must have taken guts.’

The dark rims of his eyelids flashed as he rounded on her. ‘So what do you know?’

She dragged in a breath. No way could she let him know the truth. That she knew exactly what his mother had gone through.

‘Not much.’ Up to her neck, sinking fast, but still fighting, knowing she had to say her piece. ‘Enough to know that having a child isn’t an easy option, nor is giving it up. It probably ripped her heart out.’

His hollow sneer bounced off the empty plates. ‘Don’t tell me, that’s why she threw herself into her work?’

‘However much you trust the people you left the child with, I’m guessing you’d have to block out the pain somehow.’

‘How come you’re suddenly the expert?’ He rounded on her accusingly.

Oh hell, damage limitation needed, urgently. She so shouldn’t have gone here. What the heck had made her wade in, and end up drowning in trouble? Why had she opened herself up for this?

‘Believe me, I’m simply talking as an outsider, offering a fresh view, a woman’s perspective.’ Locking eyes with him, to be sure she’d made her position clear, she guessed he’d bought it. ‘But did you ever talk to her about it?’

‘She was never around to ask.’

She’d take that as a no then. How the hell had they got here? Blowing out a long sigh, Millie pushed her hair up off her forehead, trying hard to hide the OMG moment she was having, behind her hand. Here was one guy about thirty odd years old, terrified of commitment, still raw as red meat because his mother left him. It didn’t take a genius to make the connection.

‘Well if you do ever get around to asking her, you may find you get a new insight.’ Enough said. Time to run. She pushed back her chair and stood up. ‘But right now, I’m going to clear theses plates.’

***

Millie, face down on a sun lounger by the pool later that afternoon, wriggled to pull the sweat dampened vest away from her itching back, and focused on the cola-stained ice cubes melting in the glass beside her. If she screwed up her eyes, she could make out Ed on the next lounger, face like a thunder cloud, head bent over his laptop. Might as well have had KEEP OUT tattooed on his forehead.

So much for a fun weekend.

That promise had gone downhill at break-neck speed and disappeared from view. At least when he was wrapped in his high-security barrier of fierce concentration, there was less danger of temptation. Because earlier, somewhere amongst him sweeping the strawberry leaves off the worktop with those broad, strong hands of his, crashing at the sink as he rinsed out the wine bottle, and tossing the dirty plates into the dishwasher, her insides had started to melt, despite all efforts to keep her libido firmly in the ice age. By the time they came outside, she was fighting a full-scale desire inferno, which she could only put down to the white wine at lunch. And possibly the light-shaft glimpse of raw, vulnerable man. Who’d have thought that one tiny crack in that rough, tough exterior could be so impossibly sexy? The thought of it made her heart squish, and beat in the weirdest kind of way.

Sexy? Impossibly sexy?

She needed to get a grip. Torched by the guy she was determined to keep at arm’s length was no way a good look, especially when he’d given her every reason to despise him. And darn that she’d thought to bring every item of clothing except a bikini! She gave her vest another tug, to be sure it was covering her lacey shorts, and brushed a trickle of sweat out of her eye. Where the hell had this sudden modesty come from? Deep down she knew covering up was the only way for her to be when confronted with his burning sexuality. What happened to the easy, confident woman, who taught her pupils to work what they had to the max, the one who, in her other life might have been strolling up and down the poolside, in control, working her moves just for herself? That girl had shrunk away, hiding in the face of the physical attraction onslaught that was Ed Mitchum, because when there was a detonator like him in the midst, her survival instinct had kicked in. She knew she’d be safer dressed in a nun’s habit, and trussed in a chastity belt with a hundred locks. When Ed was around there was no need to work anything. Her body was doing that, and spontaneously combusting all by itself.

And swimming was the last thing she’d planned on doing in a vest, but maybe she was going to have to make a dash for the water after all. It was either that or expire.

‘Think I may just have a dip.’ Easing to sitting, her brain momentarily dizzied by the heat, distantly aware of Ed easing upright, laptop forgotten, every atom of his concentration locked on to her now. The stones hot under her feet as she tiptoed, and folded onto the pool edge, trying to ignore the way his gaze set her already burning skin on fire. Trailing a finger into the water, daring to turn half an eye towards him, knowing she needed to keep him in her sights, like a watchful cat asleep with one eye open, just in case.

Just in case what?

That slip of a smile that left all on its own before she could put the brakes on it, colliding with Ed. Then the slightest twitch of his lips, the infinitesimal creasing at the corners of his eyes that sent her stomach plummeting to the pool bottom. No choice but to follow it. She slid off the poolside, and let the silky depths engulf her, scraping the water out of her eyes as she surfaced.

‘Deliciously cool.’ Pushing back her dripping hair strands, finding her gaze dragged inextricably towards him. And damn to the way the chill of the water had failed to lower her lust temperature.

‘Maybe I’ll join you.’ He eased forward lazily.

Oh no! That had to be the last thing she wanted! ‘Aren’t you working?’

‘Slight problem, given that something appears to be ejecting my laptop’ He shot her a smoldering grin, and in one swoop his laptop was on the floor and he’d sprung into a horizontal dive, and hit the water. And he was heading straight for her.

‘Whoa!’ She backed away from the splash, instinctively trying to save herself. Damn. Too little, too late. She gasped as his body crashed into hers. Another second, and he captured her mouth with the force of a tidal wave, kissing her, full and rough and hard, snatching away her breath and her resistance in one easy move. As her legs gave way, she dissolved against the slick muscular planes of his body, watching the azure flashes of the pool, blurry through half closed eyes. Pulling her vision into focus, the close-up view of his eyelashes, clumped and wet, sent her banging heart into overdrive, and filled her body with a new, and urgent strength. Now, when his erection drove into her belly, she forged against it, carried along by the desperate ache that pulsed through her core, and pooled like burning fudge between her legs.

She really shouldn’t be.

Mumbling through the kiss. ‘I really shouldn’t be … ’

‘What?’ His voice husky against her face as he broke away.

‘This … ’

‘We both know you want to … ’ And then he was kissing her again, but harder, his hands slipping around her waist, guiding and lifting, as, buoyed by the water, she rose, and wrapped her thighs tight around his waist, flattening the heat of her need against the thrust of his stomach. Her insides turning to molten gold as he drew back her shorts and slicked a finger deep inside her.

‘Oh!’

And then another.

‘Oh, yes!’ Locking her ankles tighter as she writhed on his hand, her own mews echoed by the deep growls that caught in his throat, as his erection drilled against her ass.

This was so not in the plan for this afternoon. So not in the plan ever again. Her eyes wide open now, and not seeing a thing. But knowing that the delicious blunt tip of him was nudging, pushing, finding a way, and she was dizzyingly, amazingly ready to take the whole driving length of him.

‘No, we need … ’ How had they got this far without protection?

‘Yes … ’ His affirmation was more of a groan.

And he wasn’t even listening. ‘Ed! What about a condom?’

One abrupt jive, and he’d pulled away. ‘Damn, sorry! I’ll sort it.’ Then he was out, drenching the poolside, hurrying towards the cottage, hopping as his bare feet hit the gravel path, and she was left, head spinning, gasping for breath.

Oh my! Okay. Try to focus on the wiggly lines of the mosaic tiles through the water. Try to stop your heart banging like a wave machine, get your butt into gear, and get yourself out of this one! Because more sex with Ed was such a bad idea. Always had been. Getting out of the water had to be a step in the right direction. And kicking herself, hard, for what just happened may be no bad idea either.

By the time Ed skidded back onto the pool terrace, she was swathed in a towel, leaning forwards, patting her hair dry, and working on a tangle.

‘What the..? I thought we..?’ His brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed.

‘I’m sorry, I got carried away back there.’ Breathlessly, she fought to keep her voice even and tried to avoid his gaze, as his expression morphed from incomprehension, to disbelief. ‘It’s better if we don’t.’

Not wanting to be mean, not meaning to mess anyone around, but it was a matter of self preservation. When he touched her she lost all sense of control, all sense of everything. Not a good place to be.

‘Better for who exactly?’ His sniff of disgust could have come from a raging bull.

At least he was easier to resist when he was fuming. But then he reached out, grasped her arm raggedly, screwed his head round to fix her with a penetrating stare, and a giveaway shiver zipped up her spine. And down again. Damn her treacherous body! Damn the way the smallest touch of his hand had her in pieces. Filling her lungs with oxygen, she tried to be honest.

‘Like I said this morning … ’ And how long ago that seemed. ‘I just can’t handle it.’

If she stuck her chin in the air, he’d know she meant it, though judging by the stormy darkening of his eyes, he’d already got the message loud and clear. She just wished her own body would accept her final word on it too.

‘And as I said this morning, it’s your loss.’ He spoke with a curl of his lip, as he let her wrist drop, his chocolate voice strangely harsh and flinty ‘but if my plans for this evening are out the window that leaves us free to attend the Reception at the Chateau. My mother will be delighted. I hear you two have already met, by the way.’

‘Er … ’ Oh, shucks! Opening and closing her mouth like an idiot. Not attractive. She shrunk under his accusing stare. What the heck happened to easy-going Ed?

‘An evening in my mother’s company or a pleasure max? I know which I’d choose.’ He gave a derisory sneer.

‘A Reception sounds great, thanks.’

People. Company. Safety. All good. At this moment a trip to the gallows would have sounded less dangerous than a pleasure max with Ed.

‘Have it your own way, as usual.’ He gave a hollow laugh, as he slung a towel around his waist, swiped his wet hair off his forehead with his wrist, grabbed his laptop and backed away across the terrace. ‘I’ll leave you to it then! Be ready for seven. And I may as well warn you, my mother is very exacting!’

***

Ed grimaced at his reflection in the hall mirror, gave his tie a final yank into position, and blocked the iron hand of dread that closed around his entrails. Tonight had barely started, but it was already looking like a very bad idea. He snorted as he took in the unfamiliar dark hollows under his eyes, snorted again as he remembered the reason for them.