No Matter What (85 page)

“Come on, Layla.
 
You’re drunk.
 
You don’t want to be doing this.”

“Don’t I?
 
I think you’re a very handsome man, Michael Walsh.
 
Very, very handsome ...”

He took hold of her arm and tried to push her away but she was one strong young lady and before he knew what was happening she was kissing him, her fingers running through his hair as she pressed her body against his and he tried not to respond, he tried so hard but for one stupid second he gave in.
 
Then he thought about
India
, and he thought about Kenny Ross.
 
Had the two of them thought about him at all when they’d been fucking each other behind his back?

“No, Layla, come on.
 
Don’t!
 
I can’t do this.”
 
This time he managed to push her away but she just looked at him from beneath her false eyelashes, smiling that little-girl-lost smile that might have once sucked him in, in his former years.

“Can’t you?
 
 
Don’t you hate being alone though, Michael?”

“Not really, no.”
 
He started gathering his things together.
 
He had to leave now and get her out of here.

“But you miss your wife, don’t you?”

He looked at her. “Of course I miss my wife.”

She came closer again, but he was determined not to fall for whatever it was she was up to.

“She’s not here though, is she?
 
She’s miles away, and what she doesn’t know ...”

He pushed past her and opened the door of his trailer.
 
“It’s time to go now, Layla.
 
It’s late, come on.”

She walked over to him, reaching out to touch his face as she passed him, smiling a smile full of intent.
 
“One day, Michael.
 
One day.”

He shut the door behind her and sat down on the sofa, putting his head in his hands for a second, reaching out for the glass of vodka that was still there, knocking it back in one go.
 
He didn’t even know what had just happened there, all he knew was it had confused him.
 
And he wasn’t totally sure he’d wanted her to leave.

He stood up and went over to the desk in the corner of the trailer, opening the top drawer and taking out another A4 envelope, sliding the handful of photographs out of it - more photographs of
India
and Kenny, more shots of them together, looking more serious this time.
 
Most of the pictures were of them deep in discussion in the grounds of
India
’s private villa in Vegas, but one photo in particular worried him more than the rest.
 
It was a picture taken through the window of the villa, a picture of Kenny Ross with his wife in his arms, a picture of him kissing her, a deep kiss, a kiss that belonged to lovers, not friends, and it turned Michael’s stomach just to look at it.
 
But it made him more determined to get out there to Vegas and make sure
India
got pregnant as quickly as possible, because it was the only hope he had left.
 
He’d dropped the ball through no fault of his own.
 
He’d let Kenny back in and now, more than ever, he had to up his game.
 
Before he lost his wife for good.

***

“You shouldn’t be here,”
India
said to Kenny as he stood in the doorway of her bedroom, watching as she folded towels.
 
“I’m busy.”

“Bobby let me in.
 
He’s gone out, by the way.”

“I know.
 
And I really need to tell him to ask me first before letting people into this villa.”

“Even me?”

She looked up.
 
“Especially you.”

He watched as she carried a pile of towels into the en-suite.
 
“Don’t you have people to do that for you?”

She ignored that comment.

“Are you in a mood or something?”

She came out of the bathroom and looked at him again, standing there with his arms folded looking cocky but gorgeous in an AC/DC t-shirt, jeans and trainers.
 
He still had the stubble, his dark hair was all over the place and
India
wished more than anything that he wasn’t standing there in front of her.
 
She wished Michael was here, she needed him to save her, to stop her from doing something she was going to regret.

“Do you think I should be totally relaxed, Kenny?
 
 
Do you think I’ve got nothing on my mind?”

“I know you’ve got plenty on your mind, and I’d do anything to try and help you forget all the crap and relax.”

“You
are
all the crap, Kenny.”
 
She started rummaging through drawers, just wanting to do something to keep herself occupied, so she didn’t feel him coming up behind her, not until he’d slipped his arms round her waist, kissing her neck gently, his hands sliding down the front of her combats.

“Kenny, stop it, come on!”
 
She pulled his hands out and pushed him back away from her without turning to look at him, continuing to do what she’d been doing before.
 
“That isn’t fair.”

It didn’t deter him.
 
He just moved up behind her again, putting one hand on her hip as he pushed her hair to one side, kissing her neck again.

“Kenny ...”

“What?”

“Stop it, please!
 
This isn’t going to happen.”

“Are you sure about that?”
 
He continued to kiss her neck until she turned around, pushing him away again.

“
This
is why you shouldn’t be here.
 
Michael’s in Vegas tomorrow and I’ve got to get everything ready …”

“Oh, don’t talk crap,
India
, you don’t have to do anything.
 
There are an army of people out there who’d do everything for you if you’d let them.”

“And then what would
I
do?”

He looked at her and she felt like running, running as fast as she could away from this whole messy situation.

“You could play with me,” he said.

She tried not to smile, tried not to show him that she wanted any part in this but she couldn’t hide it, and he smiled too, a smile she’d loved for so long.

“Just go, Kenny.
 
Before we do something stupid.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning forward, his hands clasped between his open legs.
 
“
Would
it be stupid?”

“Very,”
India
replied, going back into the bathroom.

He got up and followed her.
 
“Jesus, Kenny, can you just go?
 
Please, just do that for me will you?
 
I want to take a shower.”

“Take it with me.”

She looked at him again.
 
“Stop playing games, Kenny.”

“Who’s playing?”
 
He took off his t-shirt and threw it on the floor.
 
“I’m deadly serious.”

“Kenny ...”

He moved closer, pulling her against him with one arm, his mouth lowering down onto hers in a kiss she couldn’t break away from, a kiss that was trapping her in a world she didn’t really want to be in but one she was fast falling into.
 
How had this happened again?
 
She’d thought they were over this, she’d thought this could never happen again, and didn’t that just show how naïve she really was?

“No-one has to know,
India
,” he whispered, stroking her face, looking deep into her eyes.
 
“Nobody but us.”

She shook her head.
 
“It’s not happening, Kenny.”

She tried to think of Michael, tried to think of her wonderful husband, the man she was in love with, the man whose baby she so badly wanted, the man who was arriving here in Vegas tomorrow.
 
She tried to think of him and to stop this from going any further; she tried so hard, she really did.
 
But she’d let her guard down.
 
She’d let Kenny Ross back in.
 
It was too late.
 

His mouth was on hers again, the kisses harder and more desperate, the familiar feel of him against her, the taste of him, it was all too much for her to ignore.
 
She didn’t want him yet she wanted him so much, she hated herself for everything she was about to do but she loved the rush it was giving her, and she was about to pay the price for keeping Kenny Ross so close as every rational part of her brain shut down – almost.

“No ... Jesus, this is crazy ... no!
 
I’m not doing this, Kenny, I can’t.”

She pulled away from him, pushing him away.

“
India
...”

She almost ran out of the room, running downstairs and away from something she was finding so hard to control because she was scared.
 
She had no idea what she was doing here; with Michael, with Kenny, it was all just one big mess coming back to start up all over again.

“
India
, wait, come on!”

She stopped and turned round to look at him, his t-shirt now back on, his hair all dishevelled and he looked incredible.
 
This man would never leave her life because she could never let him go, but as she looked at him now, she felt her heart almost break.

“Is Bobby coming back tonight?” he asked.

She shook her head, folding her arms against herself, almost defensively, in the vain hope it would keep him away.

“Do you want me to stay?”

She didn’t know.
 
So she couldn’t say anything.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know that, don’t you?
 
I’ll just stay and we can talk, play some music ...”

“Can we though, Kenny?
 
Can we really just do that?
 
Because I’m not sure we can.”

He walked back over to her, gently tilting her chin up so she looked at him. “We can do whatever you want to.”
 
He kissed her forehead and she closed her eyes, breathing him in.
 
“You go get that shower, go on.
 
I’ll get us some drinks and sort out some CD’s.”

What she should have done was gone upstairs and called Michael because she knew that just hearing his voice would finish whatever was going on here, it would end it, at least for now it would end it.
 
It would kill any plans she and Kenny might have, it would make her realise this situation wasn’t right.
 
So why didn’t she just do that?
 
Why, instead, did she have her shower as quickly as she could and go back downstairs?
 
Back to Kenny.

He was in the room which housed the state-of-the-art sound system, games consoles and a wall mounted TV that was so big it could almost be a cinema screen. Huge French doors leading out to the terrace filled one entire wall, and around the other walls were shelves of DVD’s and CD’s – all
India
’s favourite movies and music which Vince had sorted out especially for her.
 
The room was filled with large sofas and chairs and an array of big, squashy floor cushions, and it was one of
India
’s favourite places in the villa.
 
She’d spent a lot of time in it since being in Vegas.
 
She may be starring in movies now but she still loved watching them too, and music was such a big part of her life, especially since meeting Kenny.
 
They both shared the same taste in rock and blues, both loved guitar based bands.
 
It was one of the many things they had in common.
 
One of the many, many things.

Kenny looked up as she stood in the doorway, her long blonde hair damp and loose around her shoulders, her body covered by a white towelling robe.
 
He wanted her so badly, so much it hurt and he knew, he could see it in her eyes, he knew she wanted him too.
 
Deep down inside she did, he knew she did.
 
 
But she was confused, and he wasn’t helping but he couldn’t walk away from her.
 
He couldn’t do it.

“You really should leave, Kenny.”
 
Her voice was practically a whisper, her arms folded across her chest, that defensive stance still very much present.

He walked over to her.
 
“Is that what you want me to do?”

She looked up into his dark eyes, searching his face for something, anything that might make her realise this was wrong, but she knew that, even if she found it, she’d ignore it.
 
She’d had every chance and more to stop this, to make him go, and all that was happening now was delaying the inevitable.