Love and Liability (Dating Mr Darcy - Book 2) (25 page)

“Tomorrow. I have to find a new job, after all.”

“You’ll find something, something better,” he assured her, and pulled her close. “You’re much too talented for
BritTEEN
magazine. I told you that from the start.”

“You told me I wrote salacious dreck.”

“Only,” he said as he kissed her briefly, “because you had to pander to your teenaged audience. You just need to find a better audience, darling. Now I’ve really got to go if I’m to get back this afternoon.”

Holly stood on tiptoe and wound her arms around his neck. She knew her knickers were showing but she didn’t care. “I’ll miss you,” she murmured. “Thanks for coming down. Thanks for…everything. I feel much better now.” And she pressed her mouth on his.

Alex bit back a groan. “You’re not making this any easier, Holly.” He cupped the cheeks of her ass with both hands and pressed her into him…

Which was how Holly’s parents found them as they pulled into the drive, parked, and emerged from the Range Rover with two ominous slams of the door.

Chapter 36

“What the hell,” Alastair James growled as he neared the pair of them, “is going on here?”

Holly tugged her T-shirt down and crossed her arms against her chest, acutely aware of her bra-less, trouser-less state. “Dad—” she began.

“Alastair!” Cherie exclaimed anxiously.

“Mr James,” Alex said, and cleared his throat. “I was just leaving.”

“Yes, I can see that. Had a good time, did you?”

Holly gasped. “Dad!”

“Get inside, madam,” Alastair said shortly, “and get yourself dressed. We’ll talk in a moment.”

She bristled. “I’m not twelve any more, Dad, and this isn’t the Victorian age! You can’t just order me around—”

“Get in the house,” Alastair snapped. “Which is still, I might point out,
my
bloody house. I can’t control what you get up to in London, but I won’t have it here in my own home.”

Holly glared at her father, cast Alex an apologetic glance, and stormed back inside with her mother, looking flustered, trailing close behind.

“I sincerely apologize, Mr James,” Alex began. “I didn’t intend to stay. I came down to help Holly, and one thing just…er, led to another, as they say.”

He regarded Alex coldly. “I thought better of you, Henry. I’m very disappointed. As they say.” He turned away. “I think it best if you go now.”

“Yes, of course,” Alex murmured. “Again, I do apologize—”

But before he could finish the sentence, Alastair stalked inside the house and slammed the door smartly in his face.

“So you see,” Holly explained to her parents, all of them calmer now, and sitting together at one end of the refectory table, “Alex was only trying to help. He felt terrible when he heard I’d lost my job and came straight down from London.”

“Oh, Holly,” Cherie said softly, “what a shame! You were doing so well at the magazine, too.”

Alastair withdrew his money clip, peeled off several twenty-pound notes, and held them out to Holly. “You’ll need this. Can you pay your rent?”

“I’m okay for now, Dad. Thanks.” Holly didn’t take the money, but didn’t object when he laid it down on the table in front of her. “I’ll have to find another job, and soon.”

“I’m sure I can get you something at the store.” His face darkened. “And I’m more than happy to have a word with this so-called boss of yours—”

“No. I appreciate it, but I need to do this on my own.” She gave him a tentative smile. “Thanks, though. And please don’t be so hard on Alex.”

Alastair stood up and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, muffin. It might be best, however, if you keep Henry — er, Alex — away from me for the time being. And don’t worry, I’m sure everything will sort itself out. You can always come back home.”

Holly could still hear Kate’s words to her when they were in the pub with Will echoing in her memory.
You’ve always got the family dosh to fall back on, haven’t you? Not many of us can say that
.

“Thanks,” Holly told her father hastily, “but I’ll find something. My rent’s paid till the end of the month.”

“Good, then.” He glanced at his wife. “I’ll just go and have a quick look round, and then we’ll need to head back to London. Traffic this afternoon…”

Cherie nodded. “I want to have a word with Holly. Come and fetch me when you’re ready.”

“Mum, I know what you’re thinking,” Holly said as her father left. She blushed. “And yes, Alex and I are having a…relationship.”

“But I thought you and Mick—?”

“Mum, I told you,” Holly said impatiently, “Mick and I broke up
ages
ago. I’m seeing Alex now. And… I really like him. A lot.”

Cherie frowned. “I’m glad, darling, really. I just worry that you and Alex are moving a bit too fast. You haven’t known him long enough.”

“Not known him long enough?” Holly echoed. “We played in the sandbox together, Mum! That’s plenty long enough, if you ask me.”

“Yes, but you haven’t known him for all the years in between. Not that he isn’t a perfectly nice young man,” she hastened to add, “but I think you ought to take it more slowly. After all, he’s a bit older than you. I don’t want you to get hurt. Men,” she added darkly, remembering her disastrous near-affair with a neighbour the year before, “are not all like your father.”

“Oh, Mum,” Holly chided, touched, “don’t worry. Alex is wonderful. He’d never hurt me, not in a million years.” She pushed back her chair and stood up. “But thanks for having my back.”

She looked at Holly blankly. “Having your back?”

“You know…looking out for me. Making sure I’m okay.”

“Yes, well, that’s what mothers are meant to do, isn’t it?” Cherie said, and stood up as well. Impulsively, she reached out and hugged her daughter. “I love you, Holly. We both do.” She leaned back to brush a strand of hair from Holly’s face. “Both of my little girls are all grown up,” she murmured. “How on earth did that happen?”

Holly burrowed her face in her mother’s shoulder and hugged her back. “I love you, Mum. And don’t worry,” she added, her words soft but firm. “We’ll always be your little girls, no matter how old we get.”

Later, clad respectably in shorts and a T-shirt, Holly waved goodbye to her parents from the doorstep until the Range Rover vanished in a cloud of dust down the drive. Filled with renewed determination, she went inside and up the stairs to pack. If she left now she could be back in London this afternoon. There was no point knocking around the house alone any longer.

Alex had made her see that it wasn’t the end of the world. She had a published article to her name now, after all, no matter what else had happened; that counted for something. She’d find another, better job, one that would truly challenge her. No more salacious dreck for her.

And no more Sasha Davis.

Still, the thought of Kate taking over her job made Holly scowl. The back-stabbing, toilet-faced cow…

Right
, she decided. Next week she’d start the hunt for a new job. Before that, she’d return to London and the flatshare, tell Kate she was moving out, and pack up the rest of her stuff.

But first, she decided, she’d stop by the grocer’s on the way back and put her new-found cooking knowledge to use to make Alex a lovely surprise dinner.

Chapter 37

Alex returned to London and let himself into his flat at half past one. Dominic was putting his Inverness property on the market and wanted an estate agent; Alex recommended a friend from school and gave Dominic his particulars. Now, if he could only dodge the rock star’s invitation to go along to Scotland next month…

Alex took out his mobile and frowned. Should he call? It was a bit late for lunch, but he’d give it a try…

But before he could place the call, his phone rang. “Oh, hello, Camilla. I was just about to go out—”

“Alex, this Chipping Barnet thing is getting bigger,” she said without preamble. “There’s a story in
The
Guardian
and one in the
Daily Mail
as well. You’ve got to take action.”

He frowned. “Take action how, exactly?”

“You need to drop the campaign to reopen the homeless shelter.”

“Drop it? But I don’t want to back down on this, Camilla.”

“Do you want votes?” she asked evenly. “Do you want to win this election?”

“Damn it, Camilla — of course I do! But Chipping Barnet needs that shelter. This issue’s important to me.”

“So is winning a seat in the Commons. Look at it this way, Alex. You can tackle the shelter issue after you’re on the bench. That’s where the real power is, after all.”

He promised to think about it and get back to her, and rang off. Resolutely, he punched in Holly’s number. “Hello, Alex here. Kate, is that you?”

“Alex! Yes. Sorry, but Holly’s not home—”

“It’s you I wanted to talk to, actually,” he said. “Have you had lunch? I just got back in town, thought we might grab a bite together.”

“Oh!” There was a lengthy pause. “But I thought — you and Holly—”

“We’re not exclusive,” he said smoothly. “Besides, she’s in Oxfordshire and won’t be back until tomorrow. But if you don’t want to go, since you’re Holly’s friend, I understand…”

“Oh, we’re not friends, exactly,” Kate replied, choosing her words carefully. “Not any more.”

“Yes, she told me she was sacked. That’ll be a bit awkward, since you’re flatmates.”

“Very awkward,” Kate agreed. “I really do feel awful for Hols.” She sighed. “It’s a bad business. It’d be nice to talk to someone about it, truthfully. Where did you have in mind?”

“Hix.” Alex mentally crossed his fingers, hoping he could get a last-minute reservation at Mark Hix’s trendy, popular Soho restaurant. “I can pick you up in thirty minutes.”

“Ooh, I’ve wanted to go there for
ages
. I’ll see you in half an hour, then.”

“Great. See you soon.” Alex rang off and dialled Hix; thanks to a recent cancellation, he got a table for two. He tossed his mobile aside, stripped, and got in the shower.

He scrubbed up with determination, dressed with careful attention to detail — his new suit from Davies and Son should do nicely — slapped himself liberally with Creed Vetiver, and grabbed up his keys.

Before the day was over, Alex vowed as he straightened his tie, he fully intended to use every trick in his arsenal to nail Kate Ashby.

After lunch — an incredible roasted chicken for two — and a couple of drinks for Kate, things were progressing well. While she hadn’t yet admitted to swapping the photos for Holly’s article, Kate’s tongue was considerably loosened by the time she’d downed her second gin and tonic.

“I’ve always been a bit jealous of Holly,” she admitted as she ran her finger idly around the rim of her glass. “Rich girl, everything always so easy,” she added with a trace of bitterness. “Daddy pulls a few strings and hey, presto, she’s got a job. And if that doesn’t work out, she’s always got the stores to fall back on.”

“It’s not like that with Holly. She got her job at
BritTEEN
on her own. She doesn’t want her family’s help.”

“Sasha despises her.”

“And why is that?” Alex asked with a frown. “Why doesn’t she like Holly?”

Kate shrugged. “Jealous, I suppose. And just between you and me and the lamppost—” she leaned forward “—she can’t afford to lose her job. Sasha’s in debt up to her arse. I know because I heard her on the phone, talking to a payday lender.”

“A payday lender?” Alex echoed. “She must be in desperate straits indeed if she’s resorted to that. The interest rates those places charge are atrocious.”

“So I’ve heard.” Kate hiccupped. “Ooh, excuse me! That second G&T’s really slammed me.”

“Perhaps we should go,” Alex suggested.

“I’m up for that,” she murmured huskily.

In a matter of minutes he’d settled the bill — inwardly wincing as he signed the credit slip — and drove them back to the girls’ flatshare. He handed Kate out of the car — “decanted” was a more apt description — and helped her, giggling and casting him come-hither looks, up the stairs.

“Here we are.” He waited as she fumbled in her bag for the key and inserted it in the lock. “Shall I come in?”

“Yes, of course you’re coming in.” Kate took his tie and tugged him playfully inside. “At least stay for a drink. You only had one glass of wine, after all,” she reminded him as she tossed her handbag aside. It just missed a lamp and landed on the floor.

Alex followed her into the lounge. “No drink for me, thanks. I can’t stay long, work tomorrow—”

“How long will it take,” Kate said coquettishly as she slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, “to kiss me?”

Think about Wayne Rooney
, Alex told himself grimly.
Think about parliament, the NHS — anything but the warm, pillowy breasts pressing against your chest — probably implants, anyway
.

Think about Holly. You’re doing this for her, after all
.

He extricated himself from Kate’s arms and her very persuasive body and backed away. “I think what you need — what
I
need — is a cup of coffee.”

She shook her head and stepped closer once again. “What I need,” she purred as she twined her arms once more around his neck, “is a bit more of
you
.”

“I’ll just go and make that coffee,” Alex said desperately, and fled to the kitchen. He busied himself with coffee grounds, filters, cups, and water. Good God, the woman was worse than cling film. Now if he could only persuade her to be as free with a confession of guilt as she was with her hands…

When the coffee was ready a few minutes later, he poured her a cup and called out, “How do you take your coffee?”

There was no answer. Had she passed out on the sofa? He had mixed emotions on that possibility — hope, mingled with disappointment. He hadn’t got Kate to admit to a damned thing yet. He was certain she was involved in sabotaging Holly’s article. Now, if he could only get her to say it…

Determined to charm her into confessing her guilt, Alex returned to the lounge with the coffees. What he saw upon his return very nearly made him drop both cups to the floor.

Kate was lounging — really, there could be no other word for it — on the sofa, clad only in a lacy black balconette bra and a thong…a thong that left very little to the imagination.