The clerk had spread his hands
helplessly. “There’s nothing I can do.”
Frantic, Aiden had thought about
searching the hotel himself but wouldn’t have known where to start.
He’d hung around in the lobby for a while, hoping she’d walk past
but, eventually, he’d given up and marched back out to his car with
the first threads of unease taking root within him.
The rest of the evening had been
spent emailing Erika, checking her Facebook page and calling her
mobile every half hour, but it was as if she had dropped off the
edge of the earth. Aiden had even waited outside her doctor’s
consulting rooms in Harley Street late into the evening but she
hadn’t appeared and, cursing, he’d conceded defeat.
After a sleepless night spent
running through every possibility – from an accident on the
motorway to Marty forcing Erika onto a plane back to Los Angeles –
Aiden abandoned his bed. Over several cups of very strong coffee he
began searching the Internet, hoping the paparazzi might have
succeeded where he’d failed and found Erika for him.
A few seconds’ later, he
discovered they had.
Countless celebrity websites
carried identical pictures of Erika emerging from a bar in the
early hours on the arm of a man Aiden immediately recognised as Ben
Ridley. They were obviously sharing a private joke because Erika
looked relaxed, happy and incredibly beautiful.
Aiden’s heart lurched at the
sight of her in the sexiest of red dresses, with her hair tumbling
across her shoulders and a look of adoration on her face as she
smiled up at Ben.
The Golden Couple one report
called them – Ben-Fenn – fuelling rumours that Ben had flown in to
patch up a long-standing quarrel that had seen Erika quit America
and throw herself into the arms of Aiden Thirstan. Sources close to
Ben were quoted as saying that a proposal was imminent and that the
couple had already picked out a house in the Hollywood hills.
Aiden stared at the screen in an
agony of indecision. There’d been enough lies written about him in
the past – innocent situations misinterpreted and relationships
concocted where none existed – and common sense told him not to
trust a word of the reports.
But it wasn’t the words that
troubled him. It was the photograph. Everything about Erika – from
the look in her eyes to her body language – told Aiden that her
relationship with Ben went far deeper than friendship. The way her
body moulded to his; the intimate gesture of slipping her hand
inside his jacket and resting it against his stomach; the unguarded
smile that hinted at lovemaking and secrets.
Something in Aiden’s gut told
him that he wasn’t looking at two friends out for a drink but
rather two lovers, flaunting their relationship to the world.
Without wanting to, Aiden’s
imagination began piecing everything together, making connections
where none probably existed. What if Erika had turned up in
Yorkshire to escape a broken relationship? She hadn’t known she’d
bump into Aiden but, having found him, it might have been an
opportunity too good to miss.
Forty-eight hours of passion and
a photograph of them kissing was obviously all it had taken to
bring Ben to heel.
In their most intimate moments,
when lovemaking had consumed every sensation except the touch, feel
and smell of Erika, Aiden had rendered himself utterly
defenceless.
He’d opened up his heart and
soul to her and made himself completely vulnerable, offering up his
love and his future happiness. He’d told her he loved her and
promised to protect her, no matter what happened with Marty. If he
could have thrown his arms around her and held her there in that
moment he would have done it, suspending them both in a world built
out of his dreams and the certainty that they’d always be
together.
He was now forced to question
why Erika had only surrendered herself to him physically. His
betrayal five years ago had hurt Erika far more than he’d imagined
– her music had told him that. So all weekend Aiden had given her
the benefit of the doubt, assuming this damage underpinned her
reluctance to express her feelings and her refusal to become
involved with him again.
She’d never once told him she
loved him, or pretended that their reunion was the beginning of a
new life together. Time and again, she’d refused to discuss the
future, saying that she couldn’t think beyond the case against
Marty, and telling Aiden to take one moment at a time.
Now he began wondering whether
the real reason Erika wouldn’t commit emotionally was because she
was actually in love with Ben Ridley.
The realisation made Aiden slam
down the lid of his laptop, although the image of Erika’s face
remained branded on his consciousness. He ached for her, never
thinking a week ago that she’d be able to reduce his philandering
heart to rubble in so short a time.
Coming face to face with her
could confirm all of his fears, he knew, but it was a risk he had
to take. He’d spent the better part of five years, first trying to
track her down in America and then working out some way of getting
close to her. He wasn’t prepared to let her slip away easily as
long as she remained in England.
The one useful piece of
information in all the reports was that Erika had moved into
Claridges to be nearer Ben, and Aiden decided it was as good a
starting place as any. Without wasting another moment, he grabbed
his keys and drove to Mayfair, cursing the early morning
traffic.
He pulled up fifty yards short
of the entrance but, just as he was about to open the car door, a
couple emerged from the hotel hand in hand and Aiden held his
breath.
He watched Ben move one way and
Erika pull the other, turning momentarily toward Aiden’s car as she
did so. He saw her face so clearly and his heart halted with
longing.
Without noticing Aiden, Erika
laughed and gave Ben’s hand a playful tug. Ben resisted and, in a
swift movement, yanked her into his arms, trapping her against his
body. Erika immediately surrendered and allowed herself to be
enfolded in an embrace that forced her to shape her body to
his.
Aiden watched transfixed when
Erika put her arms around Ben’s waist and looked up at him. If
Aiden had stood in Ben’s shoes he couldn’t have resisted dropping a
kiss down onto her lips and Ben didn’t deny himself either.
Slipping his hand behind her
neck, Ben pulled her toward him and kissed Erika as if they were
unobserved. It was a very private moment, intimate and deeply
passionate, and Erika relaxed into the kiss, returning it with
equal fervour. When Ben threatened to pull away Erika grabbed his
coat collar and, laughing, refusing to let him to escape.
In a gesture of exquisite
tenderness, Ben brushed her hair back from her cheek and his lips
formed the words, I love you, each syllable slicing through Aiden’s
heart.
From the look of love on Erika’s
face, he was left in no doubt that she returned Ben’s feelings – no
one could fake affection that ran so deep.
And after all, he should
know.
Sick to his stomach, Aiden
slammed his fist down on the steering wheel and toyed with the idea
of forcing Erika into the car. He’d drive her away, talk to her and
make her see sense, convincing her that he loved her far more than
Ben did and that he’d give her everything she needed to make her
happy.
But one look at her face told
Aiden she already had everything she wanted and, no matter what he
offered, it would never be enough to tear her away from Ben. He’d
had his chance five years ago and he’d blown it. Now Erika had
wreaked the perfect revenge by exploiting his new-found
vulnerability and crushing his hopes as cruelly as he’d once
shattered hers.
Unaware of him, Erika and Ben
set off in the direction of Oxford Street, tailed by two bodyguards
and a handful of very interested photographers who’d captured every
intimate moment of the last five minutes on film. The pictures
would no doubt appear online within the day and be snapped up by
magazines by the end of the week, to lie in wait and taunt Aiden in
unsuspecting moments.
He decided he’d seen enough and
started the engine, smiling grimly at the irony as one of Erika’s
songs came onto the radio. He couldn’t avoid driving past her but
she was too wrapped up in Ben to even notice his car. The
temptation to catch one final glance at her in his mirror was
irresistible but Aiden fought it and accelerated away to join the
traffic heading into the West End.
Now, he decided, was not the
time for looking back.
After a morning’s shopping in
Selfridges Erika and Ben ducked around the corner into James Street
for lunch, glad to get out of the cold and away from the crowds.
Sadly, the bitter weather had not deterred the photographers who’d
tailed them all morning and who now settled to wait outside.
“Surely there must be more
interesting people to follow,” Erika said, when she and Ben sat
down at a window table.
“Usually, I’d agree but we both
need all the publicity we can get at the moment.” Ben took off his
coat and hung it over the back of the chair. He glanced over his
shoulder, pleased to see their two bodyguards had taken a table
some way off. “I don’t know who’s worse – the paparazzi or Marty’s
paid henchmen.”
“At least the photographers
can’t come inside. The bodyguards follow me everywhere like a bad
smell.”
“Which makes me wonder how Aiden
will get close to you.”
Erika smiled to herself. “Don’t
worry. He’ll find a way.”
“You seem very certain.”
“I am.” Again the secret smile.
She sat back and took a menu from the waitress, watching the way
the young woman eyed Ben and flirted with him. Erika supposed she
should pretend to be jealous and took Ben’s hand across the table,
forcing him to look at her and giving him a fake stare of
annoyance.
Ben raised her hand to his lips
and kissed it looking suitably apologetic and suppressing a
devilish smile. He held the pose long enough for the photographers
outside to get a good shot of it.
“So tell me more about this
Aiden Thirstan who’s going to ride in on his white charger and
rescue you from the evil Lord Marty,” he said. “He sounds too good
to be true.”
Goodness, had thankfully never
been Aiden’s strong suit and Erika blushed, wondering where to
start.
“We met a long time before I
became famous,” she began. “I was still a student and working as a
chambermaid. He caught me changing the towels.”
“How very Cinderella. I can see
it as the plot of my next film.” Ben laughed but then asked what
had gone wrong.
“I turned up unexpectedly at his
apartment and found him in bed with someone else.”
“Ouch!”
“Exactly. I caught the first
plane to America and, a few months later, met Marty.” The words
skimmed over a mountain of heartache, diminishing it but she still
winced.
Ben looked at her cynically. “If
your lyrics are anything to go by, you didn’t get over Aiden that
easily.”
“I didn’t. It was months before
I could get through a day without breaking down.”
“So how did you feel when he
turned up again?”
“Angry. Afraid. Confused.”
“And now?”
“Still confused.” Erika laughed
softly. “But after a while I began remembering the good times we’d
had together, not just the awful break-up. Aiden’s great company.
Funny, intelligent, considerate, successful.”
“You forgot sexy,” Ben reminded
her. “From the picture of you kissing, I’d guess he’s sexy
too.”
The blush returned to Erika’s
cheeks and she looked down at her hands quickly, afraid the images
passing through her head would show in her eyes.
“You have no idea,” she said
eventually. “The bed’s felt very empty without him.”
The waitress returned for their
order and Ben gave her his best Hollywood smile whilst signing an
autograph on her order pad. Erika watched in admiration, never
before realising how much of an act his real life must be. Playing
a role every minute of every day. Pretending to be the ultimate
Romeo. Flirting shamelessly with every woman who crossed his
path.
Erika knew that maintaining an
image for two or three hours on stage was exhausting enough, but
playing a role every waking minute must have put an intolerable
strain on Ben, and she came to appreciate fully his strength of
character.
As soon as the waitress left,
Ben’s smile faded and he turned his entire attention back to Erika.
“So this Aiden’s a keeper, is he?” he guessed.
Erika shook her head in
bewilderment. “You tell me. I only know I can’t get him out of my
head. I’ve spent five years hating him, and trying to forget him,
but now I can’t stop thinking about him. How stupid is that?”
“It’s not stupid. It’s love.”
Ben sounded so certain he had to be speaking from bitter
experience. “I’ve spent years denying my true feelings and it only
ends in heartache. Take my advice. Don’t fight it.”
After two blissful nights in
Aiden’s bed it would have been all too tempting to follow this
suggestion but Erika remained uncertain. “It’s not that easy. When
I first saw Aiden again, the ground shifted under my feet and I
found myself falling for him harder than ever. Everything I ever
felt for him is still there, but he hurt me so much last time I’m
afraid to open my heart. I daren’t make that leap of faith.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“Yes. And he says he’ll wait
until I’m ready.”
“So how does he feel about you?”
Ben asked. “Is it love for him this time, or will it all end in
tears again?”
Erika thought hard before she
answered, remembering Aiden naked beside her in bed, his body
enfolding hers as he told her over and over that he loved her and
would never leave.