Trade (18 page)

“What about your father?”

“There was only ever the two of
us.” He swirled her around. “I’ve often thought I should have got her some
help.”

“How could you though? You were a
kid.”

“Yes, but still…”

“Answer me this.” She looked up at
him. “Was she happy? Was she living the life she wanted?”

He remembered the way they’d sat
in the room amongst all the piled up detritus of life she was unable to let go.
With plates full of the dinner he’d made propped on their knees, watching the
tiny television in the corner. She’d laughed often at her favorite shows. Had
always been interested to learn what had happened in school. She’d loved hearing
his stories. Even though she found it impossible to participate in the world
outside, she’d been supportive and loving, and always encouraged him to follow
his dreams and not be held back by her shortcomings. “She was happy. And she
loved me very much.”

“There’s your answer.” Cam smiled.
“Her choices weren’t yours to change. You did right by her, that’s all that
matters.”

He still couldn’t think back to
that day so many years ago without wincing, but Cam’s words soothed his soul.
The song was coming to an end. “Let’s get a drink.”

*****

“Hey, sleephead.”

Max woke from a dream in which
Sholto was trailing his big, tanned hand down the bumps of her spine while
whispering hot words into her ear, to cold reality.

Cam stood smiling down at her.

“Hey.” Max scrambled up from her
prone position on the sofa to sitting, still feeling the lingering touch of her
lover from the dream. “What time is it?”

“Just after midnight.” Cam tossed
her silver clutch onto the nearest chair. “I’m having tea, do you want some?”

Max’s mouth was as dry as Melati’s
hot sand. She nodded. “Yes.”

She followed Cam into the kitchen,
pulled out a chair at the table, and sat. “So, don’t leave me in suspense, how
did it go?”

“It was actually a lot of fun.
Sholto’s a great guy. But you know that, don’t you?” She filled the kettle and
took cups from the mug tree. “Henry was…well, his face was something I won’t
forget in a hurry.” She grinned. “His fiancée called off attending at the last
moment, so he was flying solo. He saw me standing on my own at one point, and
walked over with a smug, satisfied smile on his face.”

“Where was Sholto?”

“He’d gone to get me another
drink. Anyway, Henry was standing there, just about to say hello, when Sholto
walked over. I’d pointed Henry out when we arrived, so he knew he was my ex. He
handed me a glass of wine and said ‘Here you are, darling.’”

A laugh bubbled up at the mental
picture Cam had painted.

“Henry spluttered and coughed. His
eyes were so wide it was as though he’d been strolling through the jungle and
found a cobra in his path. Sholto looked him up and down, and Henry’s face went
bright red. It was immensely satisfying.”

“Did you introduce him?”

“Sholto introduced himself. Henry
muttered that he was my ex-husband. Then Sholto said, ‘Drink up, Cam, I want to
dance with you again.’” She giggled. “I’ve never seen Henry speechless before.
It was wonderful.”

She made two cups of tea, and
brought them to the table. Then she opened a packet of cookies from the
cupboard, and spread them on a plate. “He was just perfect.”

Something akin to envy twisted in
Max’s gut. She pushed it away. Cam hadn’t been on a real date, there was no
need to feel jealous or envious. “He is pretty perfect, isn’t he?”

Cam sat opposite Max and looked at
her with concern in her eyes. “All he wanted to talk about was you. He told me
about how you’d been in school together. How you and he had been friends. He’s
missing you.”

“I’m missing him, too.” She ran a
hand over her eyes. Took a deep breath. “I think I overreacted to what he said
to the press.”

“I think so too.” Cam’s words were
delivered in a quiet, careful way. “Everyone knows who he is. We were left
alone for the most part, but I did notice people taking pictures on their
phones when they thought he wasn’t looking. He told me it happens everywhere,
and he wasn’t inclined to satisfy people’s curiosity most of the time. He said
he likes to keep important things private, and I’m guessing you’re one of those
important things.”

“He hasn’t called.”

“Because you said you wanted
space, remember? He asked if I’d heard from you.” Her mouth pursed. “I didn’t
like lying to him, but I couldn’t very well let him know you were in my
apartment, could I? If I had he would have asked to come in for coffee.”

“He walked you to the door?” Her
heartrate picked up at the thought that while she’d been dreaming of him, he’d
been outside the door, just a heartbeat away.

“He did. Why don’t you call him
now?”

It was late, but he’d still be
awake. Max wanted to talk to him, but didn’t want to do that while in Cam’s
home. And there was no way she could sleep any longer. She’d arranged to stay
the night in Cam’s spare room, but now the urge to be home, in her own bed was
overwhelming. If things went the way she hoped they would, he’d leave the hotel
and join her at her apartment. Max drained her teacup. “It’s time for me to go
home.” She stood. “I’ll call tomorrow and let you know how things went.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Where to, Sir?”

Sholto sat back in the back seat
of the Mercedes. His fingers found the key in his pocket--the key he’d had on
him since leaving Max’s apartment. “I think it’s about time you called me
Sholto, don’t you, Gerard? After all, we’re practically friends at this point.”

“Sholto.” The driver tried on the
name for size. “Do you want me to drive you to The West Continental?”

Pride had kept him from contacting
her again, pride and fear. He’d told himself he was giving her time, giving her
space. But fuck that. He was through with waiting. She may condemn him for not
protecting his mother, but that didn’t mean their relationship was over. He’d
blindsided her with the ‘let’s move in together’ line. Maybe if he took it
slower, showed her how much he cared for her…

“You remember the address where
you picked me up that first time?”

“When you were being pursued by
the journalists?”

Sholto met Gerard’s gaze in the
mirror and nodded. “Take me there.”

Gerard turned out into the
traffic, and soon they were speeding through the streets.

“Did you have a good time this
evening?” Gerard asked.

“It wasn’t a date, but yes, I did.
It was good to be with regular people for once.” They’d met Cam’s friend, Alison,
and once she got over the whole superstar thing they had a fun evening. Cam had
explained how Sholto had come with her as a favor, and that she was seeing someone
new—a fact that had been greeted by Alison’s genuine enthusiasm. It was good to
be among people who really cared for each other’s happiness. He’d spent so many
years with a mask in place it was a relief to take it off and just be a regular
person.

Cam had wanted to leave before the
end of the reunion, and she chattered happily in the car all the way back to
her house. She was grateful, but when he asked about Max, a tiny frown appeared
between her eyebrows, and she changed the subject.

It was time to take matters into
his own hands. Max would be at home now, probably asleep. But the idea of
returning to the hotel alone was abhorrent. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, and
the thought of watching pay-per-view and drinking to kill the hours before he
saw her again filled him with loneliness and loathing.

If they were over, he needed to
know now. If she didn’t want anything he had to offer, he’d go straight to
bloody Heathrow, and fly back to the States.

The car slowed. “We’re here,
Sholto. But there don’t appear to be any lights on.” The heavy car came to a
stop outside Max’s home. “I’ll wait for you...”

“There’s no need for that.” Sholto
climbed from the car. “If she’s not here, I’ll camp out on the doorstep until
she gets home.”

“It’s not a great area. I’ll stay
with you.”

It was past midnight. Gerard was
being a trooper, but he must have somewhere else to be. “Thanks, man. I
appreciate the thought, but I’ll be fine.” He peeled off a couple of notes. “I
know the hotel is billing me for this evening, but this is for you.”

Gerard nodded. “Thanks. Have a
good night.”

Sholto waited until the car
vanished down the deserted street before walking up the steps to Max’s door. He
pressed the bell, but no light came on upstairs. He fingered the key in his
pocket, then sat on the front step to wait for her.

“OMG.” A touch on his shoulder
woke Sholto from sleep. He blinked. For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he
was. There was cold stone under his ass, and he was leaning against something
hard.

And there were two twenty-somethings
in mini-skirts and sky-high heels peering down at him.

“You’re him, aren’t you?” one
asked in a breathy voice. “Damon Fitz.”

“Sholto Kincaid,” he corrected. “But
yes, I played Damon in the movie.” He flexed his back in a stretch. “What time
is it?”

“It’s a quarter to one,” the other
girl, a redhead, said. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m waiting for my girlfriend to
get home.”
The truth
.

“Your girlfriend? I’m confused.”
The blonde took off her leather jacket, placed it on the step beside him and
sat. “I saw you on the TV—you said you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I saw that too.” The second
girl glanced at the railings outside the house then at the striking red front
door. “This looks familiar. Were you
here?”
She looked at the cold step and
touched the back of her thighs.

“Do you want to sit too?” Sholto
took off the jacket of his Boss suit and laid it over the cold stone. He waved
a hand toward it. “Be my guest.”

She sat, angling her knees his
direction. “So what’s going on?” Two women had taken time out of their lives to
stop and ask him questions, and for the life of him he couldn’t see any reason
not to come clean.

“I lied.” Ignoring their wide-eyed
stares and one of the women’s little gasp, he continued. “My life is a circus
and I didn’t want her to lose her privacy.”

“I’d be damned pissed if my
boyfriend did that.”

“So would I.” The second woman
crossed her arms and stared him down. “That’s definitely not cool.”

Jasper had said the same. The book
of women was obviously something he’d never even opened, never mind read. “I
screwed up.”

“So you’re here waiting for her to
come home? I hate to tell you but maybe she isn’t coming home tonight.” The
redhead smiled. “I’m sure we could put you up.”

“Thanks for the offer, but no. You
two should be getting off home now, it’s late.”

“Can we have a picture?” The
blonde waved her phone in the air. “We promise not to say anything about your
girlfriend.”

“Sure.” He opened both of his arms
wide, and the girls crowded in for a selfie. “You can put it on social media if
you want, and I’m fine you saying you met me waiting outside my girlfriend’s
house. I don’t know if she’ll forgive me for being so stupid as to deny us
being in a relationship, but I hope she will.”

“I do too.” The redhead stood,
picked up his jacket, and handed it to him. “Good luck.”

They staggered off down the street
in their high heels, giggling and looking at the pictures on their phones. He
wished Gerard was still around to give them a lift, but the street was quiet
and deserted.

A pale sliver of moon illuminated
the sidewalk.

They were right. Wherever she was,
she wasn’t coming home tonight.

*****

Despite Max’s best intentions it still took another half an
hour before she could leave. Cam tried to dissuade her from rushing off, saying
she should just wait until the morning when she was rested, and she had to
change out of her pajamas into her clothes.

By the time she got home, it was
almost one thirty. She looked up at her apartment from the street with a frown.
There was a light on. Nerves clenched in her stomach. Joel was still in custody,
wasn’t he? Surely the police would have contacted her or Kathryn if he’d got
early release?

You’re being ridiculous
. It
was much more likely that Sholto had forgotten to turn the light off when he left
days ago. She breathed deep, opened the door and walked inside. The old house
was silent and dark. She pressed the automatic light at the bottom of the
stairs and climbed to her apartment door.

As Sholto had departed in a hurry
perhaps he’d neglected to shoot the deadbolt, so she just inserted her key in
the top lock and twisted. As suspected, it opened.

“Max.”

Panic flashed through her at the
unexpected sound of her name. She grabbed her bag tight to her chest, fingers
curling instinctively around the keys. Directly in her line of vision, Sholto
sat in an armchair underneath a pool of light cast by the standard lamp behind
him. His hands were up in a protective gesture, as if he knew he’d scared the
pants off her and somehow hand signals might help.

“It’s okay. It’s just me.”

She struggled to breathe. Her
heart hammered the walls of her chest frantically. Nausea dipped and swirled,
the unpleasant aftermath of her adrenaline burst. “What the hell?” She wanted
to move forward but her legs seemed glued to the spot.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
He stood and took one step forward. “I let myself in with the keys you gave me.
I waited outside for you for a while, but then…” He stared into her eyes, and
his expression changed. He reached into his pocket. “Here are your keys. I’ll
go.” His jaw tightened.

He walked to her, picked up her
hand and pressed the keys into her palm. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait. Explain it to me.” She
pulled in a deep breath. Sholto being in her apartment wasn’t the same as
Joel’s actions. She’d given him keys, and the moment he realized her shock at
finding him there he offered to leave.

“After being out with Cam, I
needed to see you. I’d asked the driver to leave me here, and when I discovered
you weren’t in, I sat on the doorstep to wait. After a while, I decided you
weren’t coming back, and I had two choices—either walk the couple of miles back
to my hotel or let myself in and crash until morning when I could call a car to
take me back to the hotel. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“I’m surprised no-one saw you.”

“A couple of women coming back
from a night out did.” He smiled ruefully. “We even took selfies.”

“They’ll post them online and
you’ll have to explain again why you were outside your friend’s house in the
early hours of the morning.” Bitter rejection made her voice harsh. “I told you
I’d call in the morning.”

His eyes flashed green fire. “I
couldn’t fucking wait.” His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close
against his body. “I couldn’t face another night without you. I don’t know what
changed between us. I thought you ran because of the way I failed to protect my
mother.”

Max gasped. Her eyes widened.
“That wasn’t…I didn’t…”

His mouth twisted. “Jasper and a
couple of strangers I met tonight put me straight. They all said that denying
to the press that I was involved with anyone was more likely the reason.” The
raw, naked look of anguish in his eyes stole her breath. “I didn’t want them to
hound you. I meant every word when I said I wanted us to be together. I still
want that.” He stroked a hand across her jawline. “Maybe I pushed too soon.”

“You didn’t. I love you.”

The air seemed to still. The
moment stretched into infinity, with him staring deep into her eyes.

“You never said that before.” His
voice was no louder than a whisper. Then a slow smile transformed his features.
“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

He looked at her mouth. Brushed
his thumb over her bottom lip. “I always thought that phrase was overrated—that
it didn’t mean anything, but hearing you say it…” his mouth lowered to an inch
above hers, “makes me happier than I’ve ever been.” He kissed her lips gently,
a butterfly-wings brush. “I love you too.”

The keys tumbled from her fingers.
She snaked her arms around his neck. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.” Her fingers
speared through his hair, connecting with the warm hardness of his scalp. Then
they kissed, his tongue thrusting into her mouth.

She shoved the jacket off his
muscled shoulders, flattened her palms over the cool cotton of his shirt. Her
fingers fumbled with his tie, trying to undo it without moving her mouth from
his. With a huff of impatience, he took over, tugging at the silk that bound
him,

He jerked it off and over his
head.

Her fingers worked the buttons of
his dress shirt.

“Too slow.” He ripped open his
shirt, buttons flying to the corners of the room. Pulled it from his trousers,
and tore it off. The desperation to be naked so apparent, her nipples peaked
into hard nubs under her lace bra, hard and needy for his touch.

Hard muscles flexed and danced
under the skin, inviting her touch. But the need to be naked, to feel his warm,
solid flesh won out, so instead of reaching for him, she pulled off her
sweatshirt and dropped it to the floor.

His hot gaze fell to her breasts. He
drew the corner of his bottom lip through his teeth, and picked up the
stripping pace.

Her hands trembled as she took off
her clothes, anticipation making her clumsy. The moment she was naked she
stepped into his embrace. Her breasts crushed into his rock-hard chest, Her
arms went around him, stroking every inch she could reach over and over.

His velvet cock rubbed her
stomach, and his hands bracketed her face, holding her in place as his tongue dueled
with hers, in a desperate, hungry dance.

She gasped, her world suddenly tilting
as he swung her up in his arms, and strode into the bedroom. He dropped her in
the middle of the bed. “I want you slippery. Have you any massage oil?” He
checked her dressing table, picking up bottles, examining them and placing them
back on the shiny glass surface.

“I don’t. But that jar you’re
holding is body lotion
.” Insanely expensive body lotion
.

“Chanel.” He unscrewed the top,
and dipped a finger into the fragrant shell pink cream. “This’ll do. I’ll buy
you more.” He carried the flat glass jar to the bedside, and scooped out a
handful, then flipped his hand over between her breasts.

She gasped. “That’s cold.”

“It won’t be for long.” His palms
spread the cream up to her shoulders and neck, then down across both of her
breasts, the slide of his firm hands covered in the slippery cream on her stiff
nipples so arousing she shivered.

With a grin, he scooped up more,
rubbing her ribcage, down her quivering stomach and massaging her hipbones. Her
thighs fell open, and he smoothed the cream across the tops of them, then
between her legs.

She was wet for him, so wet and
wanting that her pelvis tilted. “Touch me.”

“I am touching you.” His hands
continued their downward slide. He scooped up more cream and slicked it over
her knees, her calves, and the top of her feet. When he was done, he stared
down at her glistening body with satisfaction. Then he positioned himself above
her, chest to chest, holding himself up from her slippery body by his locked
arms, and licked the seam of her mouth.