One Stolen Kiss (14 page)

“
Really?” The look of hopeful relief lurking in her eyes twisted in his gut, like a knife.

He nodded the affirmative.

“Really.”

* * * *

Elsie was a great, if somewhat shouty nursemaid. Adrik got a good scolding for not looking after Christie, Lucas got a hollering for not starting dinner quickly enough, and Christie got more tea and pillows and fleecy blankets brought to her on the huge sofa in the sitting-room than she knew what to do with.

“
It’s just a split heel,” she said. “They did tests and said they’re sure it’s all fine.”

“
Rest!” Elsie bawled at her over one shoulder, marching out to continue harassing her husband in the kitchen. “Too much running around. It won’t make it better unless you rest.”

Adrik brought her the TV remotes. He seemed more subdued than usual.

“What else do you need?” he asked. “Tell me.”

“
I’m not an invalid,” she told him. “I stepped on a stupid plastic hypodermic full of foot silicone and popped my own massive blisters open. I should be an advertisement for that bloody cosmetic treatment, not a warning example.”

He pulled up a footstool and sat on it beside her, taking both of her hands in his.

“I mean, what do you need to be happy?” he repeated. “Maybe I just remember you differently to how you feel in yourself. I know something’s missing. Just tell me what it is.”

She could feel the sparks between them, their joined hands completing a circuit.

“I’m not sure I follow,” she replied, erring on the side of caution. “When you say you know something is missing, and I’m supposed to tell you what it is… are you referring to something stolen…?”

“
No.” He shook his head. “Not from me. Not at this point in time. But I think perhaps someone stole from you, in the time since I last saw you. Stole a big part of who you are, and locked it away in a box for nobody to see.”

Christie swallowed, as her eyes misted up.

“It wasn’t like that,” she whispered. “It’s just – how things are done.”

“
Not in real life, Christie.”

“
I wasn’t brainwashed,” she insisted.

“
Who in their right mind would want to hide you?”

“
Well,” she said, trying to reach her cheek with her sleeve to wipe it. “You were the one who said you thought all men should be wary of me…”

“
Maybe so – but I haven’t told anyone else that.” He let go of one of her hands, and used his own shirt cuff to dry the tear away as it fell. “That’s
my
problem. For all I know, you don’t make a habit of doing what you did back then. I got the bad Christie, maybe everyone else got the good Christie. And believe me, I liked the bad Christie.”

Her eyes flashed up at him, to see if he was teasing.

“Enough to take her straight to bed,” he reminded her, and she coloured under his gaze. “I’m starting to think good Christie has been a bit too good ever since.”

Where was he getting all of this stuff? How could he tell?

“He hasn’t even called…” she admitted, and her voice broke at the end.

Adrik’s arms went around her and pulled her against him, letting her sob against his collar.

“He should have called,” he murmured in her ear. “He should have called you at once, the other night. He should have been there for you.” He stroked her hair and rocked her a little. “You deserve better than that.”

Adrik was the last person Christie would have expected to say those words to her. Derek was meant to be the one to have comforted and reassured her, rescued her in times of need, held her and listened to her. He hadn’t done any of those things.

She’d always imagined that their relationship was leading up to that stage, of being made official, being recognised, being something she could be confident and relax in. Instead it was just a continuous progression of learning his rules, as he threw up more and more boundaries and obstacles and hurdles. So it felt as though she was working hard to earn him, while he remained unavailable to her.

Whereas Adrik, regardless of the past, and their present arrangement, seemed to hold more compassion for her than she’d ever experienced in her life.

“Someone is very sorry,” Elsie’s voice intruded, and they looked up to see her standing in the doorway, dwarfed by an enormous bouquet of flowers. “For both of you.”

“
Who are they from?” Adrik queried, sitting up.

She came in and handed him the card.

“Roger, from the magazine,” he said, and gave it to Christie to read. “That’s kind of him.”

Within half an hour, the venue’s manager had also sent flowers, and the offer of a complimentary holiday at any of their worldwide spa resorts. Nothing untoward had hit the news either. The gossip sites were otherwise occupied with the exploits of the models and wannabe models, who was currently in or out of favour on the catwalk, and who or what the cat had dragged in to the after-party.

“It’s the one who was on the doorstep when we arrived,” Adrik mused, showing Christie a video paparazzi clip of party guests arriving, on his tablet screen. “Very strange case. I don’t think she has ever even been mentioned to me before, let alone introduced.”

Christie watched the clip of the model Olga Rose posing to wave to photographers, immaculately groomed and suspiciously squeaky clean-looking, before she trotted into the Soho club. Alone.

And then Christie nearly dropped her teacup, as the image switched to one of Derek Goldman.

“
The poor girl has been greatly misunderstood,” he was saying. “She had a sore throat and her purse had gotten soaked with champagne at another party before, so she’d transferred some lemon cold and flu powder into a plastic baggie to keep it dry…”

“
These people will say anything to challenge the truth,” Adrik grunted. “Even after it’s already tested positive for whatever-it-was. They’ll claim it was tampered with.”

Christie’s knuckles whitened around her cup, as Derek’s equally immaculate turn-out, thick salt-and-pepper hair
á la
George Clooney, discreetly frameless small-print-reading glasses, Bermuda tan and dazzling smile worked their charms on the camera.

“
Christie…” Adrik put the tablet down abruptly. “You look sick. Should I call the doctor?”

“
No – it’s all right.” She clutched her stomach, which was churning, but fortunately, empty. “I think maybe I’m hungry.”

“
You’re right – we didn’t have lunch because of hospital.” He picked up his phone from the coffee table and called Lucas, who was downstairs in the basement kitchen. “When’s dinner,
hombre?
”

Lucas shouted something about the bastard cat, at which Adrik chuckled.

“I’ll get you something now.” He stood up. “Stay there. You’re very pale.”

After he had gone downstairs, Christie leaned over to the coffee table, and touched the tablet screen to replay the clip, unable to quite believe it.

Derek was
here
. In London. Evidently on a lucrative PR campaign for the disgraced supermodel Olga Rose.

If she hadn’t stepped on that syringe and gone to hospital this afternoon, she and Adrik would now be in that after-party, completely unaware of the potential confrontation for them both.

“Lucky escape,” she breathed – and immediately wondered why that was her gut response. Didn’t she… she
didn’t
want to see Derek…?

Christie could feel her world slowly turning inside-out.

Rather than the former gigantic concern over Adrik gatecrashing his way back into her life and neatly sabotaging her planned future with Derek, what she was now feeling was the opposite.

She didn’t want Derek interfering – not while she was only just starting to get a clue of what she might have been missing out on, all this time.

So long as she could keep her distance from him, he had nothing on her – quite literally. All his past groundwork to keep them from being connected in the media would go in her favour.

She just had to make sure she never crossed his path.

* * * *

Christie didn’t have to worry. For the next few days, none of the other three let her leave the house. It was all feet up, clean dressings, and the hospital called to say they were sending written confirmation that nothing dangerous was found in either the wound or the syringe. A nice pair of police officers visited to take a statement anyway, which was apparently standard procedure when an incident with an abandoned hypodermic occurred, medical or otherwise. A number of Adrik’s relatives trickled by as well, most quite elderly and genteel Belgravians, and the house was soon full of floral bouquets and good wishes.

Mrs Rock Star, also known as Audrey, and her daughter Millie were invited over to see if they still wanted to borrow the dress. They arrived armed with more flowers, and stayed for coffee and Lucas’s chocolate-dipped chilli gingerbread.

“
Oh my…” said Millie, after one bite. “That should be listed as a Class A drug.”

“
Dieting is officially dead,” Audrey agreed, and licked dark chocolate shards from her fingertips. “When you’re up and about, Christie, I’ll take you along with me to my gym. Nothing like a bit of resistance training to perk you up. And you’ll find it easier walking in heels. It’s all about strength and posture. And burning off the calories of an evil cake like this one.”

Christie grinned.

“Did you still want the Vera Wang dress?” she asked. “It’s been cleaned – Elsie picked it up this morning.”

“
Hell yeah!” Millie erupted, oddly reminding Christie of herself and Adrik’s cousin Roksana, back when they were at school in Switzerland. “The future Mrs Paparazzka Maksimov’s dress at my prom? Yes please!”

“
I told Millie she’d have to trade a hostage in exchange,” said Audrey, trying not to smile at her daughter’s enthusiasm. She picked up the large Harrods carryall that had come in with them. “Just to ensure it comes back in one piece. This is Millie’s leather Chanel trenchcoat. One of a kind.”

“
Wow,” Christie teased the buttery-soft black collar. “It’s beautiful. Don’t worry, Millie. It’ll stay in the closet.”

“
Noooo,” Millie moaned. “I want to see you in it. In one of the magazine photos. So it can go on my wall and my page. Wear it for something before we swap back.”

“
Really?” Christie smiled, surprised. “I’ll have to think of something good, then.”

* * * *

They left just before Adrik arrived home from work, who immediately kicked off his own shoes, and joined her on the sofa in the vast front sitting-room.

“
They’re coming to do the first interview tomorrow,” he reminded her. “The magazine. Think you’ll be up to it?”

“
Sure. Elsie said the long bandage can stay off and I’ll just have the adhesive pad on from tonight. I think all that silicone is what stopped it getting infected.”

“
Not that. Although, that’s good news too.” He wriggled along the seat to lie alongside her, moving a couple of pillows so they could get comfortable. “I meant, up to answering questions about us.”

“
Ah.” Christie was silent for a moment, feeling rather dumb that it hadn’t occurred to her to discuss this sooner. “Okay. What’s our story?”

“
We met eleven years ago…”

“
That’s what
really
happened. What’s our story that we’re going to tell them now?”

“
What’s wrong with telling them that we met eleven years ago?”

“
Depends on what we’re going to disclose about that.”

“
Hmmm.” Adrik turned his head where it rested on one arm, and smiled at her. “It’s very tempting.”

“
Seriously – you wouldn’t?” Christie felt sure she was the colour of a cherry right now. Or maybe it was the effect of the chilli gingerbread. “Oh, God…”

“
Of course not,” he chuckled. “That wouldn’t do either of us any favours. We just leave out the part where you seduced me, tied me to the bed, and ran away with my diamonds.”

“
I don’t have your diamonds…” Christie suddenly tried to sit up. “Wait – seduced
you?
Who had the key to the room already? Who locked us in?”

“
Okay, so I made it easy for you to seduce me.” Adrik grinned. “If I’d known you were the type to escape over the balcony, I’d have probably locked that too.”

A rush of
what-if-he-hads
raced through her mind, that were almost too devilish to think about.

“
No – you’re right. We need to plan what to say.” She batted away the rogue thoughts, forcing herself to focus on the problem at hand.  “We met eleven years ago…”

“
And there was a spark between us…” With his free hand, he drew a line down her bare arm below the sleeve of her tee.