Rekindling Love (British Billionaires Series) (21 page)

Round two had been lazy, loving sex. Limbs entwined, their bodies were pasted together from the steam created of clinging as they slept. Spooning her, Rupert lifted a leg to enter her. He glided in and out smoothly and slowly. His free hand returned to her clit to work it till she climaxed. His shaft imbibed deep, the contractions of her orgasms clenching his erection from within brought him over the edge.

There was no need for words. Their bodies spoke for them.

“
We’ll have to make a move soon,” said Rupert regretfully.

“
Must we?”

“
Three hours ahead in New York, five hour flight and I need to get you ready and rested for tomorrow night.”

“
Oh God, the opening night. I'm not sure I can bear it. Can't we stay here forever?”

“
Nice thought, but people would suspect I'd kidnapped you.”

“
The publicity would be great for my career, not to mention
Rekindling Love
,” jested Susie.

“
The things you do for love.”

“
I need a shower. Will you take me to the bathrooms?”

“
No.”

“
Rupert!”

“
What? You smell divine. I don't want you using soap and washing the pheromones away.”

“
I smell of sweat and sex. You think it's nice now, but five hours in that plane and we'll both reek.”

“
Fair enough, gorgeous, I'll show you the way.”

Under the warm shower, Susan was whimsical. It was as if the water was washing away the emotion and truth from their night. She lambasted herself for her sentimentality. After toweling herself dry, she rummaged through her overnight bag. The black cocktail dress had been a waste of time. She'd eaten in beautiful surroundings, which must have cost Rupert a fortune to organize, like a hobo.

Squeezing into her faded blue, skin-tight, flared jeans, they were so long Rupert would miss seeing her black, leather, kitten-heeled boots. The cream, turtle neck jumper was cashmere and flattered her curves. At least she'd be more confident heading home than she was flying out. That said, having spent the night and morning making love with Rupert, she knew she could've worn a garbage bag home and felt like a million bucks.

Rupert stepped out of the male showers.

“
Why are you huffing?” he queried.

Realizing she'd been sighing louder than intended, Susan couldn't see a point of pretense.

“
You are effortlessly dishy. You stand there in your black jeans and shoes, your white v-neck t-shirt and slim-fit denim shirt, sleeves rolled up to show off your endeavors at the gym. That black slouch beanie doesn't hide the shaved head, it emphasizes your stunning bone structure. It takes you less than ten minutes to look that tasty. I work out, eat healthy and somehow I never quite make the grade.”

“
That's your head telling you something very different, to my eyes. To me you're beautiful. I often wonder if in high school, while you were being Miss Personality, if you did not notice that boys were looking at you, admiring you, and lusting after you. Had you talked yourself out of being that kind of girl, based solely on how some idiots reacted to your weight?”

“
Perhaps I did.”

“
Perhaps it's time you stopped then,” he proclaimed.

He kissed her.

“
I love you, Susie. I always have.”

Her inability to say the words back was going to make for an awkward flight home.

It's not as though I don't love him, thought Susan, I just wasn't expecting him to say it. Let alone initiate saying it. I think half my head was trapped with the idea of making a fool out of him. My heart got twisted. I forgot what was real and what was not. If someone says they love you and you don't say it back, it's the end of any relationship and ours hadn't even started.

She climbed in the cockpit with him. Gripping his hand, he gently shook it off, giving her a smile to take the bite out. He was checking dials and an array of panels on the console, which accounted for him not wanting to hold hands.

“
It's not that I don't love you,” she said into the head-piece.

Rupert's eyes bulged.

“
Susie, we're on the same line as traffic control. Wait till we're in the air.”

After ground control had a few laughs at her declaration of love, Rupert skillfully got the vehicle air-bound and heading to New York.

“
That was embarrassing,” she said into the microphone.

“
For me, not you.”

“
Sorry.”

“
It's not your fault. It was funny in its way. I don't think any guy wants a room full of air traffic control folks listening in to a private conversation.”

“
I was only going to say, it's not that I don't love you.”

“
Susie you aren't obliged to tell me something you don't mean. Don't say it because you think it's what I want to hear.”

“
Do I get a chance to finish what I was going to say Mr. Defensive?”

“
I'm being prickly and over-sensitive. Say what you will,” he said curtly.

“
It's not that I don't love you. It's that I've never stopped loving you. I told you that. To hear those words from your lips, the words I’ve waited fifteen years for, was always going to be like a bowling ball knocking over a skittle.”

He reached for her hand, lifted it to his mouth to kiss the top of it.

“
I thought I should seize the moment, not swallow it up like I have everything else. Never telling people how I truly feel.”

“
I do that sometimes.”

“
Really?” his tone was incredulous.

“
Don't be so surprised. I've never once told my father how betrayed I feel by his behavior. I feel as though he blames me for mum's death. She had ovarian cancer not long after I was born. He was already directing in theater, mum was on stage. As I grew up he made it perfectly clear that his personal and professional life were separate and never the two shall meet.”

“
I thought when you left Brighton College, you were going to be with him in London.”

“
That's what a normal parent would do. I made the mistake of ringing my dad, desperately hoping he'd have advice or consolation or sympathy for what happened with you and Nikki. It was the biggest mistake of my life. He sent me back to America because he didn't want my suicide attempt or broken heart infringing on his big break,” she revealed tearfully.

“
Susie, I'm sorry.”

“
Why? It's not your fault.”

“
Again though, had I not done what I did.”

“
Coulda, woulda, shoulda. What's a girl to do?”

“
How are things with your dad?”

“
They are what they always are. He is proud of me. He loves me in his own way. And he'll continue keeping me at arm's length.”

“
Hard for me to get my head round that. My family being what they are.”

“
I know. The great thing is you cherish your family. I seem to spend my life trying to build one. That's life in the theater. You build this close-knit family and when a show folds, or your contract ends, the family unit dissipates. It's the nature of the business, but every time it happens I feel like I'm being divorced.”

“
Have you seen your dad recently?”

“
The night I arrived and that was it. He was furious that I wasn't staying in the same digs as David, Miller and Fiona – the British contingent of the cast. I barely got breakfast the following morning before he called a cab to send me away. I think my being on stage is just a grown up version of boarding school for him. I'm safe and sound, but not his responsibility.”

“
You sound blasé but -”

“
I'm used to it,” she cut in over Rupert. “Right now I feel like I have a future to look forward to out of theater life or am I chasing rainbows again?”

“
You aren’t chasing rainbows,” he said solemnly.

“
Do you chase rainbows, Rupert?”

“
Sometimes.”

“
When?”

“
In work.”

The answer surprised her. He rarely mentioned his occupation. Other than saying he was a lawyer, there had been no divulging of details.

“
How do you chase rainbows at work?”

“
Did Imogen tell you she works at the British Embassy?” he asked.

“
I'm sure I heard her mention of it.”

“
We both specialized in immigration law. I work for the family company, she does her own thing, but we have close ties. I do a lot of pro bono work for the company. My expertise is with asylum seekers. There are a lot of tragic stories. Tales that would have your heart bleed. I take on a lot of these cases. Try to protect them. Ensure America keeps them safe, but no one wins every case. I once lost a case that resulted in a twenty-three year old gay Iranian sent to his home country. He was hung shortly afterward because homosexuality is against the law. Punishable by death. I was chasing a rainbow there. I thought we could save him. I thought I could argue effectively, draw on the law to keep him safe here, but I couldn’t. It's funny because the ratio of my winning cases to losing cases is substantially higher, but it's the ones I don't come through for that stay with me forever,” his voice was breaking.