A Heartbeat Away (11 page)

“Of course, you could come back home and help us….”

There was such appeal in her voice that just for the slightest moment I wanted to say yes.

My heart pounded. “I've got too much going on here at the moment.”

“But maybe one day…?”

“Maybe one day,” I agreed.

Long after she had hung up, I sat on the side of my bed, going through our conversation—or rather, her conversation. I was so glad for her. And yet…Maybe one day I promised myself, when time had done the magic that it was supposed to do but hadn't yet managed to for me. A stab almost of jealousy cut into my heart. So why had it worked for Aunt V and even for Edna Brown?

 

On Saturday night, I sat alone in my apartment, struggling to concentrate on a movie I had already seen a dozen times, while events from the night before kept flicking into my mind. The alcohol had brought a wild excitement—an escape, I suppose—but now my memories were intermingled with guilt. At ten o'clock, I switched off the TV and collapsed into bed with my head whirling, to wake early on Sunday with a void inside me. I almost drove over to see Aunt V but was too afraid that she might be at Homewood, making plans with Edna Brown, so I went for a walk, instead, through the park and along the Thames, around which London had been built. It seemed sad to me that a river should be trapped in concrete. My whole being longed for smooth grassy banks and soft green trees that blew in the gentle summer breeze. And then I found one area where someone had made an effort to bring nature to the city. I sat there for a while, on a bench with a view of the undulating water, enjoying the sight of weeping willows and the carefully designed gardens that bordered the river. Refusing to allow myself to compare it with that other riverbank that was firmly slotted away my past.

It was so breathtakingly hot that I wore shorts and a hot-pink sleeveless T-shirt. I thought they might have appeared out of place in the city, but everyone else seemed equally skimpily clad. In fact, the entire place had a different aura in the heat of the Sunday-afternoon sun. As I wandered in the general direction of my apartment, I suddenly realized that I was near the Duck and Dove, and my steps slowed. The doors were propped open, and laughter echoed from the pub's gloomy interior. People relaxing and having fun. I wondered if Nicola was inside.

“Are you looking for someone?”

The voice beside me stopped me cold, and a shiver ran down my spine. Dangerous might seem delicious when you're overflowing with dry white wine, but it had quite a different effect in the warm glow of a summer's day. And then I realized, as I turned to look once again into the intense black eyes of Alex Lyall, in the bright light of day the man who Nicola had warned me so urgently to steer clear of appeared relatively harmless.

Despite the heat he was wearing an expensive lightweight beige suit, with a cream shirt and subtly multicolored silk tie. He smiled at me, his perfect teeth gleaming white against the deep tan of his face, and all of a sudden I realized that I was smiling, too.

“Well,
country girl
,” he repeated, narrowing his dark eyes so that I could no longer see their expression. “
Are
you looking for someone?”

I stared at him, mesmerized.

“Nicola.” My voice faltered and then the words rushed out. “I was just wondering if my friend Nicola was in the pub.”

“And you don't fancy going inside dressed as if you are on holiday at the seaside.”

“It's hot,” I announced defiantly. “Anyway, what do you mean by calling me
country girl
. How do you know that I'm from the country?”

“You'd be surprised at the things I know about you,” he told me.

Another shiver rippled through me as his dark eyes caressed my naked skin, and I turned away abruptly.

“I have an appointment,” I mumbled, glancing nervously at my watch. As I walked hurriedly down the street, I could feel his eyes boring into my back. I forced myself to walk slowly, glancing at my feet as my sandals thudded on the warm flags of the pavement, my ears pricked for the sound of his feet behind me. When I turned the corner into my street and still they hadn't come, I heaved a sigh of relief and broke into a jog.

I let the door to my apartment click shut behind me, fumbled with the safety chain, and as I glanced around with relief at my familiar surroundings, I felt the heat of embarrassment for my own stupid behavior—running off down the street like a scared little kid! After all, the only thing the poor guy had ever really done was to try to help me. He'd obviously seen me looking nervous today outside the Duck, and I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't grabbed me that cab after the club. Nicola's crazy stories had just spooked me, and they were probably just stupid rumors. I would find out the truth, I decided, and then if I ever came across him again, I would know whether to be polite or to run a mile.

As it turned out Nicola was off sick on Monday and Tuesday, and by the time she returned to work on Wednesday morning I had almost forgotten about my chance encounter outside the Duck. At lunchtime she appeared in front of me with a cheery smile on her attractive face.

“Fancy going for some lunch?” she asked.

My first reaction was to say no, then I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair. I had nothing better to do.

We ordered tuna baguettes in the café down the street, and sipped our cappuccinos while going over Friday night's exploits. Nicola, of course, had to mention my “dangerous liaison.”

“Seriously, though, Lucy,” she said. “That guy is dangerous. You should stay well clear of him.”

“I like dangerous,” I told her.

Laughter sparkled in her eyes. “Since when? Since when have
you
, quiet little Lucy McTavish, liked
dangerous
?”

I shrugged, uneasy with my own admission. Was it really true?

“Just joking.” I smiled. “Anyway, what exactly is so bad about this Alex?”

It seemed suddenly very important to me to learn the truth about him. But why? Was it just those black eyes that made me feel I had been mesmerized every time I looked into them? I shivered. Maybe he
had
hypnotized me.

She shrugged, sipping her coffee.

“It's common knowledge that he sells drugs, and it wouldn't surprise me if he was in some kind of protection racket, as well. The guy is in with all kinds of dodgy people.”

“But you don't know for sure.”

She pulled a face. “Well, no…but you have to admit he is seriously scary.”

After that, our conversation turned to Nicola's latest love interest. All she appeared to care about was her next social outing. My mind just kept going back again and again to my own admission. Did I
really
like dangerous? Or was it the only thing that made me feel alive again?

 

I dreamed of my father that night, but in my dream he and Mrs. Brown were one and the same person, caring and gentle. He brought me new red shoes to wear, and when I woke up as the dawn filtered through my window, I was filled with such disappointment that I buried my head in my pillow and cried as I hadn't done in months. Then I brushed away the tears and pushed the memories even deeper inside. All that was gone now. This was my life here. My job at Fawcett and Medley, my new social life; my whole future was here in the city. So why did I long for wide-open spaces where the majestic fells loomed against the sky?

Because I may have made my future in London, but the wild hills of Westmorland would always be my home.

 

We were so busy at work that I hardly had time to turn around for the rest of the week, and that suited me. When five-thirty on Friday finally arrived, I ran down the stone steps and out into the late-afternoon sunshine with a sigh of relief.

The phone was ringing as I inserted the key in the door of my apartment, and I burst inside and grabbed it eagerly.

“Hello.”

“Hello, love,” said Aunt V.

I felt so glad to hear her voice that for a moment I was speechless.

“Lucy…are you all right?” she asked.

The concern in her voice brought a lump to my throat and I laughed too loudly. “Of course I am. I've only just this minute got in from work, though. The phone was ringing as I opened the door.”

“Oh.” She sounded surprised. “I didn't realize that it was so early. I wanted to talk to you, that's all. Oh, Lucy, I have had such a day.”

Once started, she was like a ball rolling down a hill. She chattered on about her new project and was keen to tell me about her visit to the Riding for the Disabled group.

“We're going to help every Monday afternoon,” she explained. “And Edna is just as excited as I am. Oh, Lucy, if you could see those poor dear children, you would want to help, too.”

I was so pleased for her, and yet I couldn't ignore the pain that shot through my heart as I listened to her going on about her life. It was so full now, so…fulfilled. After she hung up, I dialed Nicola's mobile number.

“Are you going out tonight?” I asked her.

“Ah, I've got you hooked, have I?” She laughed.

Had she? Had she really changed me so much? The answer hit me. Circumstance had changed me, not Nicola.

“Nine o'clock in the Duck?”

“See you there,” she said.

 

After two drinks in the Duck, then three more on the way to Idols, I felt very mellow and surprisingly confident. The music throbbed inside me as I watched the swaying bodies on the dance floor and I gulped down the drink that Nicola brought over from the bar.

“Hey, steady,” she cried. “Are you on a mission, or what?”

Maybe I was. I know that I was filled with an intense, almost feverish excitement.

“Come on,” I said, grabbing her arm. “Let's dance.”

She pulled a face at Anna and Len, the two other members of our small group.

“Don't let this table go,” she yelled to them above the noise. They smiled and nodded, far too taken up with each other to care about us.

The air was murky with smoke, and as we elbowed our way onto the dance floor, colored lights flashed around us and whirled inside my head. I felt all alone in my own private world of sound and sensation, a world where I could release all my pent-up emotion, yet feel no pain. I was living again, really living.

When Nicola shook her hands and made a face at me, I just stared at her vacantly.

She pointed toward our table. “I'm going to sit down,” she mouthed.

I nodded, still allowing my body to move with the music, as she pushed her way through the crowd. And then I looked up, drawn by a strange compulsion, and through the purple haze that glowed with flickering lights, a pair of uncomfortably familiar, penetrating dark eyes, locked onto mine. I tried to look away, but they held me with the same magnetism as before and as they drew closer, my whole body began to tingle with the strangest sensation—a disturbing, irresistible sensation that had its roots entrenched in fear.

M
y mind refused to focus, lingering between sleep and a violent headache. Something…there was something…Oh, my God!

Memories flooded in. Glittering black eyes taking me over, the electric touch of his hands on my heated skin. Shame washed over me. What had I done?

Nothing. The knowledge arrived at once. We had danced and he had shaken me with sensations that had nothing to do with Daniel Brown. His hands had moved across my skin. His lips had brushed mine, burning them before moving on, and all the time I had felt the cold grip of tingling fear that made me so alive. And then he had simply gone, leaving me to face Nicola's fury for dancing with him at all.

I knew that she was right. I should be listening to her warnings. But what did I care? Live for the moment; take what you can before it is taken away from you. That was my new motto. I wasn't looking for a relationship or even love. All I wanted was physical sensation that stayed well away from my heart.

Would I see him again? Did I want to see him again? Part of me said no and part of me longed for the crazy fever that came over me every time my eyes met his.

All Saturday my nerves were on edge. He had persuaded me to give him my number. What if he rang? Did I want him to? Guilt made my stomach churn and I fought to push it away. Why
should
I feel guilty? My one true love was gone forever, so what did anything matter anymore? No, Alex Lyall had nothing to do with Daniel Brown, this was just about me, about trying to feel alive again.

I tidied my apartment and collapsed in front of the TV to watch anything that would take my mind off the turmoil that frazzled my brain. When my cell phone buzzed in my bag, I leaped up. I was fumbling for the phone as the sound stopped.

One missed call.

I didn't recognize the number. Should I ring it? No, that was the last thing I wanted. What if it was
him
? What would I say?

Suddenly I felt so lonely and afraid that I dialed Aunt V's number, needing to hear her familiar voice. When the phone rang on and on, I gripped the receiver in my hand, willing her to pick up.

The person you are calling is not available, please try later.

Panic squeezed me, closing my throat and shortening my breath.

It was the weirdest moment for a knock to sound on my door, almost as if someone had come holding out a hand in support. I rushed to open it, forgetting to keep the chain on in my haste.

 

He stepped through the door with such authority that I never thought to question it.

“These are for you,
country girl
,” he said, holding out a large bunch of blood-red roses. A tremor ran through my body. Red for love, yellow for friendship,
blood-
red for passion. I accepted them from him in a trance, feeling awkward all of a sudden in my jeans and baggy sweatshirt.

“Go and get your glad rags on, princess,” he commented. “I'm taking you out.”

I giggled stupidly. “Make your mind up. What am I—a country girl or a princess?”

He held my eyes with his brooding gaze and my whole being turned to mush.

“At the moment you look like a country girl, but
I
am going to make you
feel
like a princess. Now, hurry up. The table's booked for nine.”

“Were you so sure that I would agree?” I asked him.

He reached out one long finger and traced it down my cheek. “Oh, yes, Lucy,” he told me. “I
always
get what I want.”

I quivered inside, knowing that I should keep my distance, knowing that I shouldn't allow him to manipulate me, yet unable to resist the electricity between us.

He handed me the roses. “Better put them in water,” he advised.

And the moment to say no was gone.

 

We ate at a restaurant in the city center, a plush place, with tinkling glasses, pulsating background music and efficient black-clad waiters. I gasped when I saw the prices. Alex merely glanced at the menu before looking across the table at me.

“I suggest the beef,” he said. “It really is exceptional.”

“You dine here a lot, then?”

Was this the sort of life he lived—expensive restaurants, smart suits, blood-red roses by the two dozen? The fast lane. Was
this
the fast lane?

“It is one of the better places,” he said, snapping his fingers at a waiter, who rushed over to us and hovered uncertainly.

“A bottle of my usual, please, Pierre.”

Was he going to ask me what
I
wanted? I opened my mouth to speak as he leaned toward me.

“Red okay for you, Lucy? Or would you prefer something else?”

I shook my head. “No, that's fine…thank you.”

I ordered something with prawns for my starter and deliberately
didn't
order the beef.

“And for my main course I'll have—”

He looked at me from beneath his eyelids, an amused glint in his dark eyes.

“I'll have the chicken,” I said, deliberately holding his gaze.

 

What did we talk about? I remember that we talked a lot about me. To my dismay, he already knew so much about me that it made me feel uncomfortable. Things such as where I came from and where I worked, little things, but still…And yet I learned nothing at all about him. I didn't know what
he
did for a living, or what his hobbies were, or even where he lived.

“How did you find out so much about me?” I asked. He just smiled and clasped my hand, making my fingers tingle and sending a strange quiver to the very center of my being.

“I have already told you, Lucy,” he said, his voice deep and low, vibrating almost. “I make it my business to find out about the people I'm interested in.”

I couldn't help my reply. “So are you interested in me?”

His fingers tightened.

“Oh, yes, Lucy McTavish, I am
very
interested in you.”

 

We took a taxi back to my apartment. I felt mellow, yet slightly odd, dizzy and strange. I sank into my seat, watching the buildings pass by in a blur of flashing lights. My breathing sounded loud in my ears, and I was intensely aware of Alex sitting silently beside me, not quite touching but so near that I could feel the heat of his body next to mine, a heat that made me shudder with uncontrollable longing.

He handed me out of the cab like a queen, and when I stumbled on the curb his arm reached around me. For a second I felt a rush of fear, but he tightened his arm, holding me against him as he took the key from my limp fingers. And then somehow we were inside the apartment. I heard the door slam as if in the distance, and when he turned me toward him there was no me anymore, just an unbelievable sensation that started in my core and rippled through my body, stripping my defenses.

His fingers began to move over my skin and I lost myself to the need. My clothes slipped away, unnoticed, and somehow it was hot damp skin on skin, hard tense muscle, tingling ecstasy, and all the time his glittering black eyes consumed me, before his body lowered over mine and brought me, screaming, to a pulsating climax.

 

I must have slept then, for when I awoke, the sun was streaming in my window and I was alone. My head ached unbearably, and I shut my eyes again, once more feeling shame wash over me as the memories began to filter into the fog that was my brain. What was wrong with me? My arms were like lead, my whole body was filled with a weird lethargy and my mind felt fuddled. Bits of last night kept bursting in, both shocking and exciting me at the same time, and despite myself, I felt a tingle once again deep inside me, a quivering physical need that left me gasping for more. What had happened to me? It was as if something had taken me over and turned me into someone else, a person I didn't know, or even like very much this morning.

Never again, I told myself. From now on I would stay well away from Alex Lyall.

But even as I made myself that promise, my treacherous body shivered with delicious memories.

 

Sunday in the city. I never let myself compare it with those Sundays spent at Homewood with Daniel. They were gone. He was gone. Who cared now what I did with my life? Certainly not me. I wandered along the riverside, trying to think of anything other than last night. Watching a butterfly flit from flower to flower, getting on with its brief life, as I was getting on with mine. Because that is what we all do, isn't it? Just get on with our lives the best way we can. And if we make mistakes, so what? Then we have to learn to live with them.

The phone was ringing as I let myself back into my apartment and I let it ring on. I couldn't face Aunt V, and I didn't dare face Alex if he deigned to call. Or had he taken what he wanted and moved on? Had I been a total fool? The quiver deep inside me told me not, and pushed aside my shame. Why shouldn't I live a bit? Love would never reach my heart, for that had died long ago, with Daniel Brown.

After a late lunch, I spent half an hour in the shower, struggling not to think of anything at all, but the memories kept on swirling in my head. Eventually I stepped out and draped a towel around my wet hair, then stared at my reflection in the steamed-up glass. Surprisingly the wide gray eyes that stared back at me looked just as they had the day before. I turned from side to side, expecting to see—What?

My hips were a trifle too wide, but my waist tapered nicely and my full breasts were firm. I felt my nipples tingle with memories of sensations from last night and a searing heat coursed through my body.

In that exact moment I heard a thud. I grabbed a large white bath towel and wrapped it around me with a new rush of guilt. The sound came again, more urgent. I walked slowly toward the door, clutching my towel with one hand, while the other hesitating in midair. Perhaps I should just pretend that I wasn't home. But what if it was Aunt V? My fingers curled around the key and slowly turned it. The lock clicked, the latch went down and a frantic drumroll beat inside my chest.

“Lucy?”

I froze at the inevitable sound of his voice. Was it with fear or anticipation? My mind felt numb.

“Take off the chain.”

It was a command, not a plea. For a moment more I hesitated, before my hand moved, trembling, to do his bidding. When he stepped inside, just as before his presence filled the room. The door slammed shut with an air of finality. The soft white towel fell away from me at the touch of his urgent fingers, leaving me naked and shuddering beneath his burning gaze, and as his eyes devoured me, I knew that I was lost.

 

That was the start of a madness that lasted for the next three months. Our relationship was purely physical, and at first I kept it a total secret. It was like sleeping with stranger. He would arrive unannounced at any time of the evening, and next morning when I awoke he would be gone, or sometimes he never came at all. He could even have been married, for all I could tell, and I was no nearer to knowing if Nicola's warnings were true than on that very first night, when his disturbing gaze had locked onto mine and placed me in this hypnotic physical state.

The only time we ever actually went out together was for a very occasional late-evening visit to the restaurant he had taken me to that very first night—when my only pathetic retaliation to his manipulation was to order chicken instead of beef. So when he turned up one sunny afternoon in August, I was utterly surprised.

I had just watched Aunt V drive off in her new car—Edna, it appeared, had insisted Aunt V buy it, now that she was a businesswoman. We had laughed about that.

“Businesswoman,” she had snorted. “How could I ever be considered a businesswoman?” And she kissed me warmly on the cheek and drove away with a smile on her face.

When Alex appeared only moments later, he just hadn't seemed to fit. I felt self-conscious and awkward, but he pushed my reservations aside.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand.

“Where are we going?”

He smiled that breathtaking smile that turned his perfect features into something you could only describe as handsome, and then his smile faded as his eyes washed over me.

“Hurry up and get changed,” he ordered.

Something deep within me objected, and I twirled before him. “Don't you like my lazy-day sweater?” I laughed.

He scowled, flicking at the collar of his dark blue suit. “I prefer you to wear nothing,” he murmured.

Heat seeped through my body, cracking my fragile defenses.

“But,” he added, “failing that, I would like you to look like a woman.”

 

I slid into the passenger seat of the black BMW parked against the curb, running my hands over the soft gray leather and inhaling its intoxicating aroma. My senses shivered deliciously.

“You never told me that you had a car like this!” I exclaimed.