Girl Behind the Scandalous Reputation (14 page)

‘I’
LL
be back,’ he murmured against her mouth, and Lily flopped back against her pillows as Tristan quietly closed the bedroom door behind him.

She’d almost felt sick earlier, when she’d woken in the early-morning light to find Tristan trying to slip out of her bed without waking her. He’d pulled on his jeans, a frown marring his perfect features, and then he’d noticed her watching him. He’d looked remote, but then his eyes had devoured her and he’d walked over and let his lips follow suit.

‘I’m going to make you a cup of tea,’ he’d whispered, and she’d smiled and trailed her hand down his naked chest.

She didn’t really want tea, just him, but she was glad now of the momentary reprieve as she stared at the ceiling and memories of last night swept blissfully into her consciousness.

Last night he’d told her she drove him crazy, and a slow grin spread across her face as she recalled the tortured way he had gasped her name when he climaxed. She liked the idea of driving him crazy. She liked it a lot. Because she felt the same way. She only had to think of him walking into a room for her hormones to sit up and beg.

Last night he had made love to her in front of the open fire and afterwards carried her to bed, where she had promptly curled against him and fallen into the deepest sleep she’d had since arriving back in the country.

He’d promised her slow, but she had no complaints about their lovemaking. In fact she’d loved it! The urgency, the
excitement…the way he’d touched her, cared for her. In fact she loved everything about him.

Lily put her fingers over her face.

She loved him.

Oh, Lord. Did she?

She tested the words out silently in her head. And her heart swelled to bursting.

No. She couldn’t. But she did. Completely and utterly.

And it had been there all along. It was the reason she’d been so nervous about seeing him again. It was the reason she had been so upset when he’d thought she was guilty of carrying drugs into Heathrow. That he’d thought her guilty of being a drug addict.

It was the reason she had been so morose these last few days, and the reason she had allowed herself to be swept away in the library last night. No, had
wanted
to be swept away—by him.

Lily swallowed, her heart pounding. They had made love so reverently, and she had given everything to him and he had seemed to do the same back.

He’d told her she drove him crazy with desire, and although he hadn’t said he loved her she couldn’t believe he didn’t have any feelings for her.

But even if he did what did that mean?

Nothing. Because he didn’t do love. He’d made that clear enough. And he wouldn’t want her to love him either. Only…what if he felt differently with her?

Right. And how many other women haven’t wanted that to be true?

Oh, Lord, she was starting to go back and forth like an entry in her mother’s diary. He loves me. He loves me not.

The man had just spent four days avoiding her—he was hardly likely to go down on bended knee after one night in bed with her.

Something she couldn’t deny that she now wanted. Lily blew out a breath.

In admitting that she had fallen in love with Tristan it was
as if a wall against all her secret hopes and dreams had come down. She wanted what Jo and Oliver had. She wanted somewhere to belong, someone to love her. She wanted something lasting.

She groaned audibly and rolled onto her stomach and grabbed her pillow. What did she do now?

Seriously she didn’t expect him to declare his undying love for her, but she couldn’t stop herself from wanting that. Yearning for it. But he hadn’t looked pleased to see her this morning, had he? No. He’d seemed distracted. Troubled. She’d dismissed it after his ferocious kiss, but…

Enough!
She raised a big red stop sign in her head. She wouldn’t do this. Play mental ping-pong over a man. The best thing to do would be to wait. Because really she had no idea how Tristan was feeling, and until she asked him she was just making up stories in her head. Lovely, sugar-coated romantic stories. But stories nonetheless.

Deciding to stop mooching around, she checked the bedside clock and was shocked to see that it was already nine-thirty. And, even worse, it was Friday. Jordana was due at the Abbey this morning to start all her pre-wedding pampering treatments, followed by lunch with a couple of girlfriends, and then a rehearsal dinner for close family and friends!

Maybe she should have a quick shower before Tristan got back? Or maybe she should go and find him and remind him that Jordana was due.

But then her phone rang and took the dilemma of what to do next out of her hands.

Pushing the tangled sheet aside, she jumped out of bed and reached for her tote bag beside the dressing table. Fumbling around inside, she finally located her mobile and quickly checked the caller ID. It was the detective working on her case.

Her case!
Somehow she’d forgotten all about it with thoughts of Tristan swamping her mind.

‘Good morning, Detective.’

‘Miss Wild.’ His polite, modulated tones echoed down the
line. ‘I apologise for not delivering this news in person, but due to workload issues I’m unable to travel to Hillesden Abbey today, and Lord Garrett was adamant that we inform you of any breakthrough in your case as soon as it came to light.’

Lily swallowed, her palms sweaty around the silver phone. ‘And…have you had a breakthrough?’ she asked breathlessly.

‘Not just a breakthrough, Miss Wild. We’ve solved the case. Or should I say Lord Garrett has solved the case.’

‘Tristan?’ Lily shook her head.

‘Lord Garrett contacted us two days ago, after finding a discrepancy between the personnel records we initially received from the airline and the records that had been e-mailed to him.’

Lily plopped down on the velvet ottoman in front of the dressing table and stared at a baroque wall plaque. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘One of the attendants who worked on your flight was not on the personnel list we were given, and was therefore not interviewed and fingerprinted. We were unaware of the last-minute replacement because the person who dealt with the staff-change had forgotten to send the information through to payroll. As we were given the original payroll records the replacement flight attendant did not appear on our list and was therefore not part of our initial investigation.’

He went on to explain that when Tristan had started looking into the case he’d picked up on the discrepancy and immediately informed the police.

‘But why did she do it?’ Lily asked.

‘The flight attendant was bringing a small amount of narcotics into the country to earn a few extra quid on the side. When she learned that sniffer dogs would be going through not only the passengers’ belongings but also the flight crew’s she panicked, and you were an easy target. She was aware of your parents’ notoriety and hoped that would be enough to prevent her own capture.’

Lily remained silent, struggling to process the information. ‘So what happens now?’

‘You’re free to go, Miss Wild.’

‘And the custody order?’

‘Will be repealed by the courts some time today.’

Lily thanked the detective and sat for a few moments, completely stunned.

She was free.

She clasped her phone to her chest, trying to make some sense of it all. The whole sordid mess seemed surreal, and what stood out for Lily now was how sorry she was that her parents were still mainly remembered for their drug-taking rather than their artistic talents. Previously she would have felt suffocated by that. Tainted by it. But after her conversation with Tristan last night she saw that her parents had been only human. They’d made mistakes, yes, and paid the ultimate price for those mistakes. But they had tried.

It didn’t mean she had to agree with their lifestyle choices, but nor did it mean she had a right to condemn them either—as many had condemned her. Except the author of the play hadn’t judged them. He’d written a funny, informative and ultimately tragic account of their lives in a beautiful and heartfelt manner. And if she were to play her mother it could be her gift to them. Her gift to herself.

Lily felt short of breath at the surge of emotion that swept through her body.

Tristan. She wanted to talk to him. Share this with him because she knew he would understand.

She was free! And he had believed in her. Had helped her.

Lily sprang off the ottoman and grabbed the first items of clothing she found on the floor.

She wanted to feel Tristan’s arms around her as he held her to him while she told him her news. Or did he already know?

She didn’t care. She wanted to drag him back upstairs and make love with him. Run her fingers over his morning stubble—run her hands over his chest and take him into her hands as he had stopped her from doing last night.

Her body quickened, clearly agreeing with the direction of her thoughts and—

What if he’s been working on your case just so that he can be rid of you?

The ugly thought weaved through her mind like an evil spell but she immediately pushed it aside. No stories any more. Just facing her fears head-on.

‘I couldn’t believe it when Mrs Cole told me you were in the kitchen making a cup of tea. And why are you only half-dressed at nine-thirty? You’re usually up with the birds.’

Tristan turned at the sound of his sister’s voice. He was half-naked because he’d needed to get out of Lily’s bedroom fast and had forgotten his sweater.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, a little more harshly than he’d intended.

‘I have a little thing called a wedding at the local manor house tomorrow. Remember?’

Tristan rubbed his belly. ‘I meant in the kitchen.’

‘You didn’t respond to Oliver’s text last night about meeting him at the polo field at half-eleven, so when Mrs Cole mentioned you were in here I thought I’d remind you. What
are
you doing in here?’

‘Fixing tea. What does it look like?’

He glanced away from his sister’s too interested gaze and willed the kettle to boil.

‘Who for?’

‘Didn’t you say you had somewhere to be?’

Jordana tilted her head, her eyes narrowed. ‘Why is your hair all over the place? And what’s that mark on your shoul—? Oh, God.’ She clapped her hand over her mouth in a melodramatic show. ‘You’ve got someone stashed upstairs!’

Tristan followed Jordana’s gaze to his right shoulder and saw the imprint of Lily’s fingernails from their lovemaking last night.

He’d woken this morning to find her curved in his arms,
his upper arm numb from where she had used it as a pillow all night and a boulder the size of Mount Kilimanjaro lodged in his chest. He’d never woken up having held a woman all night before. In fact he usually tried to find a plausible excuse not to wake up with one at all, and he didn’t mind admitting that having Lily snuggled against him like a warm, sleepy kitten had scared the hell out of him.

As had the feeling of well-being he’d been unable to dislodge alongside the boulder. If he’d thought the first experience with her mind-blowing then last night had been indescribable. She’d been completely abandoned in his arms and he…Suffice it to say it had been the most complete, the most intimate experience he’d ever had with a woman—even more unsettling than making love to her five nights ago.

He’d tried to sneak out of bed, but she’d woken when he was halfway into his jeans. He’d turned when he heard the bedcovers rustling to find her leaning up on one elbow, the linen sheet clutched to her chest and her golden mane spilling over one shoulder.

Her soft smile had slipped when he’d hovered over the idea of just walking out, but he hadn’t been able to. Not after all they’d shared last night. He wasn’t that big a heel. So he’d kissed her. Devoured her. Sucked her tongue into his mouth and very nearly forgotten why he had to get away.

‘So?’ Jordana prompted, bringing his eyes back to hers.

‘None of your business. And keep your voice down.’ The kitchen staff weren’t close, but still he didn’t want them overhearing. He turned back to the boiled kettle and filled the teapot, wishing that he hadn’t sent Mrs Cole off when she’d offered to make the tea for him.

‘I’ll find out. I mean, she has to come downstairs some time…’

Tristan scowled at her too happy face. He’d be glad when this damned wedding was over and his loved up sister would go back to normal. ‘Leave it alone, Jo.’

‘Why? She must be important. Someone special?’

He put the kettle back on the hob and ignored her.

‘Maybe it’s a guy?’

‘Jordana!’

‘Just joking, big brother. Jeez, Louise, where’s your sense of humour?’

Tristan turned away and asked himself the same question. But her next inane remark sent him into panic mode.

‘That’s okay.’ Jo leaned against the bench. ‘I’ll ask Lily. She’ll know.’

Tristan banged a lone mug on the tray. No way would he be having tea in Lily’s room with his sister on the warpath.

‘You won’t ask Lily anything. You’ll keep your nose out of my private life.’

‘Why so tetchy? I’m only teasing you.’

‘I’m not in the mood.’

‘Well, that’s obvious. Where is Lily anyway?’

‘In her room.’

‘Really?’ She raised her brows at him. ‘How can you be so sure? And isn’t that peppermint tea? Lily’s favourite?’

‘I said leave it alone, Jordana,’ Tristan growled.

‘Oh. My. God. It’s
Lily
.’ Both hands were clapped over Jordana’s cheeks. ‘You’re sleeping with my best friend!’

‘Jo—’

‘I’m so excited. I told Oliver I thought there was something between the two of you at the restaurant. I knew it. This is great.’

‘Jordana, it’s not great.’

‘It is. I think you love her. The way you were looking at her that night at dinner…I told Oliver I thought it was fated. Lily getting into trouble and you bailing her out. It was as if it was meant to be.’

Tristan recoiled as if she’d slapped him. He was
not
in love with Lily Wild.

‘Jordana, you’re a dreamer. If I did care for Lily Wild it would never be serious, so you can forget about taking your romantic fantasy to the next level.’