One-Click Buy: November Harlequin Presents (107 page)

She didn't!

‘Well, congratulations,' she offered again, ‘on both counts.'

God, he was good! Even in her annoyance Lily couldn't fail to be impressed—that interviewer hadn't stood a chance. Still, the scrutiny unnerved Lily. It was OK for Hunter—he was used to having cameras trained on him, used to dealing with publicity and innuendo. Not only was she having to deal with the shock in the glossies that Hunter Myles had married a nobody, now they were suggesting…

Like a switch turning up the heat, the vague disquiet that till now had been bubbling unacknowledged seared into the boil of panic—the throw-away comment Hunter had made about her being pregnant jarring at her very core.

She couldn't be!

On shaky legs Lily headed for bag, pulled out her organiser and forced herself to face an issue she'd been desperately trying to avoid.

The exquisitely tender boobs, bursting into tears at the drop of a hat, almost fainting at Emma's recital…

She was on the Pill, for heaven's sake, Lily reassured herself as her manicured fingers flicked the pages. They'd only had unprotected sex once and she'd had her period almost straight afterwards.

Her fingers flicked over the pages, checking and checking again, her teeth working her bottom lip as she counted down the time since her last period…
six weeks ago!

‘W
ERE
you asleep?' Flicking on the light, Hunter sat on the edge of the bed as Lily lay there, trying to accustom her eyes to the light.

‘Well, it is after one,' Lily said, peering at the bedside clock and deliberately yawning. He'd rung to say he was on his way home around nine, but by eleven, when even if there
had
been an accident, surely the police would have managed to inform her, she had taken herself and what she hoped was her overactive imagination to bed with a good book. After Hunter's harsh words that morning, she'd absolutely refused to play the part of the worried wife or aggrieved lover and ring to check where he was—and she was so glad she had. Hunter actually looked a bit put out as he undressed, but he didn't bother to climb into the bed, instead lying shamelessly on the top and, as was his usual style, completely oblivious to the ungodly hour, turning on a CD. Picking up her book, he started to skim-read a few pages. ‘Do anything nice today?'

‘Lots,' Lily answered brightly. ‘I had a meeting at the centre—turned down the opportunity to start up a support group for teenagers recovering from eating disorders. In fact, I was the perfect little wife today. I took myself shopping and needlessly spent lots of your lovely money, then went and had a facial and pedicure. Oh, and I didn't worry about you a single bit.' Nothing could have been further from the truth! She'd spent the entire day drenched in her own anxiety, hanging around the chemist at the shopping centre like a sixteen-year-old boy attempting to purchase condoms, Hunter's warning about the ever-present paparazzi making her too paranoid to buy a simple pregnancy test. So instead the afternoon had been spent surfing the net, trying to find out the early symptoms of pregnancy, each site she visited either reassuring or confusing her till she given in and, as if she'd been visiting some torrid website, carefully deleted her user history, so Hunter wouldn't be able to see which websites she'd visited. The only money she'd spent today was on the fabulous book he was holding in his hands, but she wasn't going to tell him that!

‘Oh, and I've seen a fabulous picture I'd like for the entrance hall,' Lily added.

‘Good girl.' Hunter grinned at her facetiousness and squeezed her thigh through the sheet as he read on. ‘Now you're getting the idea. Oh, and you need a new dress for the ball.'

‘I've got a wardrobe of new dresses,' Lily pointed out. ‘What's it in aid of?'

‘Sorry?'

‘The ball?'

His hands stopped halfway through turning a page.

‘What charity is it?'

‘Spinal injuries.' Hunter shrugged and carried on reading.

‘Oh!' Lily stared over at him, waiting for him to elaborate. They'd been to so many events. More often than not Lily didn't know what she was dressing for till Hunter picked up his car keys or summoned his driver, but, given Emma's injuries, she'd at least have expected a touch more interest. ‘Is Emma going?'

‘Why would she?' Hunter glanced over, his voice suddenly scathing. ‘As the token victim, she's got a bit more style than that.'

‘I was just…' Her voice trailed off, her nose wrinkling in concentration as she remembered a half-forgotten conversation when they'd first met.

‘Is this the big charity ball you were talking about when we first met the one you're organising?'

‘I told you it was.'

‘No, Hunter.' Lily shook her head. ‘You didn't.'

‘You didn't actually turn them down?' Hunter stared over at her bemused frown. ‘The support group…'

‘I said I'd think about it,' Lily answered tactfully.

‘You don't have to defer to me…' Hunter turned his attention back to the book, seemingly nonchalant, but she knew how hard it was for him to say the words. ‘If you think you should do it, go for it.'

‘I will.'

‘This is actually a good book,' Hunter commented without looking up, completely changing the subject. ‘What happened to her?'

‘Sorry?' Lily frowned, her mind trying to gather all the snippets of information he constantly blasted her with, trying to keep track of his endless threads of conversation and somehow piece them together.

‘What happened to her? I can't make it out.'

Only then did she realise he was talking about the book, and she let out a tiny incredulous laugh ‘You haven't read the beginning and you probably won't read the end…'

‘So?'

‘You can't just open up and demand to know what's happened. You're supposed to read the whole thing—it's like walking in on the last five minutes of a film and asking for the entire plot!'

‘And what's so wrong with that?' Hunter frowned. ‘So are you going to tell me?'

‘No.' Lily let out an irritated sigh. ‘Because I actually don't know
what
happened to her. That's what I've been up half the night trying to find out.'

‘So you've no idea!' He raised his eyebrows. ‘You're up to page 242 and you still don't know!' He carried on reading, his curiosity piqued now, at least for a little while. Lily stared over at him. Even after a month his beauty still astonished her, his restless splendour as he lay beside her still drawing her in. But it wasn't just his looks or his touch that enthralled her, it was the man she hadn't yet met that really kept her captivated, the man that slowly,
painfully
slowly was being revealed to her: the flashes of just plain
niceness
that utterly disarmed her; the dry humour that could always foster a smile. And the gentler side, too, that occasionally she was privy to. Every now and then she was treated to a glimpse of what it could be like to be truly adored by a man like Hunter—and it made her yearn for more, yearn for the man she was sure was there behind the expensive suit and snobby derisive voice.

Every now and then there were moments as perfect as this.

‘What?' Hunter asked, as he caught her staring.

‘Nothing,' Lily answered, but the smile on her lips faded as she watched him, appalled as he turned to the ending and started to read.

‘You can't do that!' She grabbed at his wrist but he started to laugh, holding the book up higher and somehow managing to keep her back and read at the same time. ‘If you tell me what happened to her, if you even hint at the ending, then I'll never ever forgive you.' She was on her knees now, reaching for her book, and they were both laughing, really laughing as he teased her, laughing as, despite her attempt at protest, somehow she let him. But suddenly it all changed, the atmosphere charging in a very different direction as nakedness hit, the innocence of the moment deliciously gone as Hunter, on cue, rose to the occasion.

‘Now look what you've done,' Hunter admonished, staring down at his splendid erection. ‘You just can't leave me alone for even five minutes, Lily! There I was, trying to quietly read….'

‘Keep reading, then,' Lily said, but there was a provocative note to her voice that Hunter registered, a small pregnant pause that spoke volumes—energy, arousal crackling between them so potently Lily could feel the tiny hairs on her arms rise to the static charge between them.

‘Keep reading,' Lily said huskily again, delivering a velvet-wrapped order, watching the bob of his Adam's apple, a beat of hesitation before he picked up the book and seemingly resumed reading as Lily knelt beside him.

His face obscured by the book made her braver somehow, no knowing eyes on hers, nothing to distract from his magnificent splendour. A low rumble of excitement stirred in her groin as her tentative fingers reached out for him, his blatant want growing in her hands. Never had she wanted him more, bringing her hungry lips to taste him, the soft feel of his skin on her tongue a contrast to the strength beneath it, one hand in her hair guiding her to where he needed her most, inhaling the soapy clean smell of him she took him deeper, hearing his moans of pleasure, the thump of the book falling to the floor as fingers laced into her hair.

‘Lily.' His voice was a husky kiss, his pleasure completely hers as he delivered his salty kiss, and when afterwards as he slid her up his body, dragged her up to join him, clung to her so intensely, so fiercely, it truly felt as if he would he never let her go.

N
ORMALLY
Hunter was up before the birds, showered and ready to go before she had even surfaced, but on this Monday morning it was Lily dressed and fragrant, smiling as he leant back on the pillow and closed his eyes. ‘How come you're up so early? I thought you weren't working till eleven?'

‘I've got an interview at nine!' Lily beamed as his eyes snapped open, taking a sip of her coffee as Hunter sat up in the bed. ‘I rang the university last week and they've squeezed in an appointment.'

‘You didn't say anything.'

‘Didn't I?' Lily gave a vague shrug—she probably hadn't. Even though Hunter had remained in Melbourne for the past week he'd still been inordinately busy, as had Lily, organising and adapting to her life and surroundings. Hunter's
bland
apartment was now weighted with texture and colour, scented candles burning into the evening, glorious silk cushions and vast vases of flowers delightfully breaking the structured ambiences. The fact she'd forgotten to mention a brief phone call was hardly a big deal—or so she'd thought! ‘I'll make you a coffee while you have a shower.'

‘No.'

‘Tea, then,' Lily offered, turning to go, blindly missing his angry point but stopping in her tracks as Hunter's voice followed her down the hall.

‘I meant no to the interview.'

‘Excuse me?'

She was sure she must have misheard and still Lily gave him the benefit of the doubt, frowning as she turned her head.

‘You're not going to the interview, Lily, you're not going to university. You're needed here.'

‘For what?' Lily gave a shocked incredulous laugh. ‘To preen myself for when you come home, to rattle around in shops and spend a fortune on clothes and furniture? To meet you for lunch when Abigail can slot me in? I'm not even having this discussion with you, Hunter—we agreed I'd do this course and that's exactly what I'm going to do.'

Almost gibbering with rage, Lily marched to the kitchen, half expecting him to follow her, picking up the paper again and pretending to read. Only when it was clear he wasn't coming, only when she heard the sound of the shower being turned on did Lily let out a long-held breath and try to fathom what was taking place.

Subtly at first—so subtly she'd hardly even noticed—he commandeered her time, thwarted every arrangement she made. A hastily arranged lunch date with her new husband reason enough to cancel a vague plan to catch up with friends, an impromptu trip invite to join him in Sydney reason enough for Lily not to spend a couple of days at her mother's, his opposition to her getting a car…and now this.

‘Lily?'

She didn't look up, didn't acknowledge him at all as he joined her at the breakfast table, just carried on reading the paper as he helped himself to coffee and pastries.

‘Lily, what I said before, I think you misunderstood.'

Her lips pursed as she carried on reading the paper, her legs tightly crossed, one foot swinging to a rhythm of its own, she pointedly refused to discuss it.

‘When I said you couldn't go to university, what I meant was there's no need. Abigail's been looking into it for you. Apparently you can complete your course online.'

‘Online?' Now she spoke, shot out the word with an incredulous laugh that was completely devoid of humour. Because there was nothing funny about this, nothing funny about it at all. Again Hunter was telling her to subscribe to what he considered best. An independent woman, Lily could see the bricks of her luxurious prison rising around her and she moved quickly to pull them down, to make this man realise that she made her own rules, made up her own mind.

‘Hunter, what the hell is Abigail sorting out my schooling for? She's your PA, or diary planner, or what ever she wants to call herself. But she's not mine, and for the record I don't want to study online, I want to finish my degree properly.'

‘We've been through this.' Hunter voice was incredibly measured, but she could hear the mounting impatience behind it, as if he were talking to some belligerent two-year-old who was defying him. ‘You're Mrs Lily Myles now…'

‘I'm still my own person,' Lily flared.

‘Not for the next eleven months,' Hunter said and she glimpsed his power, the might, the drive that tossed boundaries aside and propelled him forward. But up to this point his undeniable force had never been aimed at her—at least, not in a negative way, and the tiny doubts she had chosen to ignore, the tiny negative questions she had pushed aside all swirled together into one black hole as Hunter told her in no uncertain terms what he expected from her. ‘In eleven months you can do what you like, Lily, walk around in scruffy jeans with your fellow students, discussing the bloody meaning of life, take on every bleating charity case that comes knocking at your door, drive to your student bashes in some beaten-up old car, but for the next few months, you'll act accordingly!'

‘According to what?' Lily demanded. ‘Come on, Hunter, according to what? You want me to be happy, you want to know exactly what I'm thinking, you want to make love to me over and over…'

‘So you're not happy in bed?'

‘It's not the bedroom that's the problem,' Lily responded angrily. Exasperation raising her voice, she jabbed a desperate finger at his chest then pointed it over and over to his head. ‘It's here, Hunter. You want absolutely everything of me. You want me to be a
real
wife, to be with you, to tell you what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling, yet you give absolutely nothing back!'

‘Do you want me to dig out the house deeds?' Hunter's voice was pure ice.
‘Nothing
is what you had when I met you!'

‘You don't own me,' Lily flared, instinctively fighting back, refusing to be intimidated, stunned at the way he was behaving, sure that her anger, her fury would provoke a retraction from him. But instead she got a reaction, and one she had subconsciously been dreading—eyes, darkening in rage, lips that had always, to her at least, been kind curling in contempt as he spat out the words.

‘Oh, but, I do. And don't you forget it.'

She felt as if she'd been hit, the sting of his words, the brutality of them hitting her with full force, momentarily stunning her. But she recovered quickly. Defiant, enraged, she faced him head on, absolutely refused to be intimidated by him.

‘Never!' Just one word, one single word, but it was said with such strength, such conviction that it hit its mark, allowing her to glimpse just a flicker of doubt in his cool blue eyes, the tiniest of chinks in his impressive armour as her unwavering certainty reached him. It gave her the momentum to continue. ‘And don't you ever,
ever
talk to me like that again, Hunter.' Her lips were numb with tension, but her voice was clear. ‘Let's get things straight. I
am
going to carry on working, I
am
going to university, I
am
going to get a car, and if you
ever
talk to me like that again, I'll be out that door.'

On cue it opened. Abigail, crisp and elegant in a black suit, walked in and, no doubt sensing the tension, gave them both a wide smile.

‘Crisis!'

‘We're fine,' Lily snarled, but Abigail laughed.

‘Glad to hear it, but I was actually talking about work!' Lily balled her hands into fists, more furious with herself for giving Abigail even a hint there was a problem. ‘I'm afraid you're needed in Singapore.'

‘When?' Hunter's voice was even, but his body was still taut with tension. The row was nowhere near over, there were so many unsaid words still sizzling between them as they both attempted to pretend everything was normal.

‘We're on the 10 a.m. flight!'

There was nothing worse than an unfinished row.

Abigail had packed for him because, as Abigail had explained sweetly, she knew what Hunter needed, leaving Lily standing bristling in the lounge with him. Every now and then one of them would open their mouth to speak, then clearly think better of it, mindful there was nothing that could be said without revealing to Abigail's undoubtedly pricked ears the reason for their marriage.

It was Hunter who finally broke the strained silence.

‘Will you be OK?' He sounded tired, as if all the fight had gone out of him, and Lily was appallingly close to crying, but she didn't let him see that. Better he think her a coldhearted bitch than just another woman who adored him.

Loved him even?

‘I'm sure I'll cope without you, Hunter.' She flashed her green eyes at him, directed at him the anger that was turned in on herself. ‘It might take a while to work out my schedule or sort out my clothes in the morning without you doing it for me, but I'm sure I can muddle through till you get back.'

‘Lily, don't.' His normally assured voice sounded weary with wretchedness so she toned it down a touch, even managed to feel sorry for him—a long flight and no doubt a frantic work day lay ahead, which made it a very long time till the sun set on this row. ‘We'll talk when I get back, OK?'

Abigail appeared with her pussycat smile, wheeling Hunter's suitcase. ‘All set?'

‘Yep.' Hunter nodded and made to go then changed his mind, ‘Actually, Abigail, I'll meet you down at the car.'

‘If we're going to catch that flight, Hunter, we really need to move now.'

‘I said,' Hunter growled, ‘that I'd meet you down at the car. Now, can I have five bloody minutes' peace with my wife?'

Lily's only solace in the whole wretched morning was the indignant look on Abigail's face as she very reluctantly took herself out of the door.

‘It's like putting out the cat in a storm,' Hunter said once the door was safely closed. It was such an apt description that despite her misery Lily managed a wobbly smile. ‘I'm actually going to ask her for the key today—she can use the intercom, like everyone else.'

‘Can't have her barging in on us rowing.' Lily offered a feeble joke, still shaking from the argument and all it had unleashed.

He dragged a hand through his hair, and for once it didn't fall back perfectly. For once he didn't look like the Hunter she'd first met. Exhaustion seeped from him, those stunning, direct eyes now puzzled and weary.

That was exactly how he felt.

There she stood, confused, wary, defiant and so incredibly beautiful, so, so…
vulnerable
.

He loathed the way he was acting, loathed the vile tirades that came out of his mouth, loathed that he had reduced them to this. All the fun, all the heady excitement that had brought them together dissipated further with every outburst, but it
had
to be this way, Hunter reminded himself. With every night they spent together, with every shared laugh, shared kiss he could feel them blending, two separate ingredients forming one so sweet, so infinitely desirable it was torturous not to sample, but if ever self-control was called for it was now.

He wanted to keep her safe—safe from the future he might provide.

Reaching out, expecting her to flinch, to push his hand away, relief suffused him as his hand captured her cheek, as she rested her head into palm, her soft skin beneath his fingers, her delicate fragrance reaching him.

‘What's wrong, Hunter?'

‘Nothing.' He closed his eyes as he answered, her question so genuine, her voice so tender it was impossible to look into her eyes and lie.

‘Something is,' she insisted gently. ‘And if I can help…'

‘You can't.' His voice came out way too harsh, yet still he could feel her warmth, feel the infinite well of her caring, and it terrified him. He wanted to tell her so much, he actually wanted to lean on her, to have
her
hold
him.

‘Is it Emma?' It was as if she was mirroring his soul. ‘Your parents?'

‘I'm fine.'

‘These headaches you're getting—'

‘They're nothing.'

‘Are you drinking?' Snapping his eyes open, the direct question so far from the answer it brought an incredulous smile to his lips.

‘Where the hell did you pluck that from? You
know
I don't drink.'

‘I don't
know
anything about you.' Her voice was still soft, her eyes two deep pools of concern. ‘I just see these moods, the headaches, the
pain
you seem to be in. If there is something going on, maybe you can tell me. Maybe I can help…'

Oh, God, he wanted to tell her, wanted to tell her what was worrying him, what drove him over and over to push her away. Momentarily he faltered, his mouth opening to speak, to vomit out the pain that was churning in his soul. But she must have sensed his weakness, sensed his desire to tell, because as she confirmed he could go on, that soft voice telling him that
maybe she could help him
, as surely as if she'd slapped him, Hunter pulled back.