Promises (4 page)

“Glad you’ve got so much confidence in your staff
.” Liz grinned.

The amount of time and money it had taken
to discover the woman’s details made a refreshing change, she thought. He was doing the chasing for the first time in his life.

“
Er, what are you going to do with the house after you’ve, you know, had your fill?” Used to her boss’s lifestyle, Liz continued to do her job, hoping to discover what would be required once he was ready to move on so she could get a head start. She wasn’t exactly immune to him, but she also knew she was ten years older and not in his league, so she’d never allowed her mind to go there. She enjoyed watching his antics. She brushed her chin-length fine brown hair out of her rather plain face.

“Rent it out, sell it
, whatever. It’s just a stepping stone.” He shrugged out of his jacket. The heat of the small room was suffocating. He didn’t know how the hell she coped with it. “It’s purely a means to an end.”

“I still can’t believe you’ve gone out of your
way to buy the house next door. It’s surreal,” she said, shaking her head. She was used to his outrageous eccentricities, but this was a first.

Solomon
stopped himself from explaining why, aware he couldn’t tell her about the sex. Especially the blow job she’d given him, which had almost reduced him to tears. His mind drifted back to how her tongue felt, flickering light, and even now he could feel himself responding at the thought.

H
e was desperate to meet up with her again. He needed to flush her out of his system, to stop her and her delicious tits from haunting his every waking moment.

* * *

It was late when Solomon met up with Callum. This time they sat in a calm pub. No banging of heavy music, no gyrating bodies, just a quiet pint and a chat. He needed to talk to someone, to try and assimilate his feelings and motives, because so far he’d had no success on his own. He’d never hungered after a woman in his entire life. Yet now he was so desperate for her he’d take whatever she offered.

“So
, mate, what’s up? This looks like a serious bonding type of talk.” Callum took a sip from his pint and shot Solomon a grin. “Please, Sol, don’t tell me you’re a closet gay and about to come onto me.”

Solomon leaned back in his seat,
crossed his muscled thighs and laughed. A deep, gutsy baritone burst from his large chest. “Trust me, if I decided to bat for the other side, I’d be a damn sight more selective.”

“What
, you saying I’m not good looking enough?” Callum brushed his hands through a mop of muddy blond hair. He flicked his head back in a dramatic gesture.

“Get used to it
, bitch!” Solomon grinned and toasted him, holding his pint up before taking another sip.

“So
, come on then. What’s this pep talk about?” Callum pressed.

Solomon
leaned back in his chair, studying his friend. “Remember that night when I found a strange woman in my bed?” He mentioned it with a casual ease as if it were an everyday occurrence. Callum knew it damn well wasn’t, and until he met her again Solomon couldn’t explain why he had gone through with it. To himself or anyone else. He didn’t make a habit of sleeping with random females he discovered beneath his duvet. Usually he would have at least turfed them out. Yet there was something strangely compelling about this one, from the moment he’d first touched her.

“Mmm, best
jump you’d ever had, according to you.” Callum nodded, looking at him questioningly. “So, come on, spit it out.”

“Well,
I can’t get her out of my head.” He took another sip of his pint and considered his friend before laying it all out. “So, I’ve bought the house next door to her.”

“You’ve
done
what
?” About to take a drink, Callum dropped his pint back down on the table with a bang. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Think I might have
,” he admitted with a shrug of his massive shoulders, ignoring the admiring glance from a tall blonde who sauntered past.

“You’re ac
tually going to be moving?” Unable to believe what he was hearing, Callum sat bolt upright. “What’s so special about this woman?”

“
I’m taking a few weeks off work,” Solomon replied. “About a month should do it, I reckon, maybe less.” Solomon was convinced that once he’d been with her again, the itch he felt would disappear and leave him whole. He stared deep into his pint, a crease marring his forehead. He shook his head. “What’s so special? I don’t know, and that’s the problem.”

“What about Sue?
I bet she doesn’t know you’re taking time off work to go chase some strange woman.”

“I don’t owe her any explanation
.” Solomon’s voice became cold and clipped as he thought of the dark-haired woman. She was a top-class model that he occasionally took to bed. Unfortunately, she was also predatory and deemed him hers. He’d never bothered to put her right, letting her carry on. Solomon was not remotely interested in a relationship—never had been—so her jealousy did not bother him. She had a body and face to die for, but he had to admit that Sue was not as hot under the sheets as her Latino temper.

Callum sighed
. Solomon’s sudden rigid demeanour did not fool him. They’d been friends too long. “Try telling her that. She thinks she owns the rights to you. I just hope she doesn’t find out about this or she’ll bloody well castrate you.”

Solomon changed the subject, glad that the
subject of their discussion was currently modelling in the States. “I’ve got a favour to ask. Mind if I borrow that old Beetle of yours?”

“Are you for real
? Why?”

Solomon grinned
, thinking of the rust bucket sitting in Callum’s garage. The Beetle was a project that Callum had bought to work on, then couldn’t be bothered. It sat there gathering dust.

“I want her to think of me as just a regular beach bum
,” Solomon said, grinning as he finished his pint. “Let’s just say I’ve got a strange hankering to have someone treat me as a person instead of a cash dispenser.”

“You turn up in
that and she won’t go near you. She’ll think you’re a bloody tramp.” Callum scrubbed a hand across his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. “And you reckon you can get back in her knickers by pretending to be broke?”

“I know I can
,” Solomon said, oozing confidence. When he put his mind to some goal, he always achieved it. And at the moment, it was Alexandra on her back, writhing beneath him and urging him on as she had in the hotel room.

* * *

Alex hopped around the bedroom with one shoe on, searching for the other one. She wished she was domesticated, but tidiness wasn’t in her genes. She dropped towels where she stood, threw shoes off not caring where they landed. Except this time she did care. She checked her watch with a loud curse.

S
he was late again, but she reasoned that not many people visited the small library early in the day.
Or in the afternoon
, came the afterthought. She pondered for one moment why the hell it remained open. Very few people ever checked out books and it didn’t seem worth her salary to keep the place running. Nevertheless, she couldn’t knock it. At least the job provided a wage and a get-out clause from her mother.

It was only
in the last six months that she’d finally broken away from Fiona, and that was due to a very welcome insurance payout. It hadn’t been a life-changing windfall, but one that meant she could at least afford her own rented place. She had briefly raised her eyes heavenward and thanked her father for his old fashioned outlook on life. When she’d been born he had been determined to pay for her wedding. And the regular monthly payments would ensure that.

Smiling
wryly, she wondered why he’d assumed she’d meet a man, fall in love, and marry.

But she was
thankful he had been spared the sight of her as a frustrated old maid. Whilst her mother hovered like a vulture, waiting for the payout.

The
endowment policy had come to its term end, giving her a healthy starting point to get the hell out of her mother’s house. Even though it was something her father had set up, strangely enough her mother had continued it.

A realization
dawned on her when Fiona demanded some money back for her contributions. It was obvious then to Alex that her mother had made the payments with the intention of claiming a percentage back. And Fiona had wasted no time in demanding reimbursement for the rent she’d not been paying.

I
t was only a small annuity, yet it was enough for a bond on the house she rented. The job as a librarian came up at the same time and Alex got out of there.

She grinned
, all of a sudden spotting the missing shoe, and slid her foot in as she tugged at the plain grey skirt she wore. She hated it and its matching drab grey blouse. Her hair was scraped back off her face and tied into a small bun at the nape of her neck. Persistent errant strands refused to conform, and curled and sprung out in rebellion.

She
shot a glance at herself in the mirror and grimaced at the reflection staring back from behind a pair of dark, heavy-rimmed glasses. She looked old and dowdy. Hell, she looked Victorian. She twanged the suspenders hidden beneath her skirt. Not quite dowdy, after all. It might be the uniform that idiotic numbskull had decided she had to wear, but underneath she wore the raciest underwear she could afford. A tiny pair of purple lace panties hugged her hips whilst a matching bra with a filigree of silver lace covered her ample chest. She adjusted her stockings and flicked at her garter. She might look frumpy from the outside, but beneath it she was pure sex.

Sparing a glance out the bedroom window
, she couldn’t miss the battered Beetle pulling up. It was painted in a variety of colours, none of which helped to obscure the dark circles of rust that covered it. She winced at the loud grating noise the engine made before it turned off with a low rumble and shudder.

She
dropped the curtain and went in search of her bag, another mammoth task. Although why she bothered with a purse at all, she didn’t know. It held only the essentials—keys, mobile and money.

After a long
, frustrating search, she discovered it beneath a heap of underwear. Alex snatched up the crescent-shaped black leather handbag then glanced at the sky through the window. It was going to be another warm day. The blue sky was clear and cloudless, and a bevy of seagulls flapped lazily on the wind. Their screeching was loud and harsh and their yellow beaks blinked against the bright sunlight. Alex turned her attention towards the sea. It was a short walk from her house, yet it wasn’t visible from downstairs. Here in her bedroom she had the most fantastic view.

She gazed
with a deep dreamy expression at the beckoning expanse. Rays of sunlight twinkled on the water and made it more vibrant. She wanted nothing more than to strip off and run down the small sandy beach, to sink into the sand, which would squelch between her toes as she met the breakers rolling in, white, frothy, and salty.

Shaking her head
, she dived back into reality, knowing she had to get to work or face the sack.

She closed the door, again without locking it
. Brindley Bay was nestled into the rolling hills of West Wales that swept down to a remote beach. It was one of many similar beaches that graced the coastline. Yet this one was off the tourist map, a veritable untouched diamond. The resort so small that there was no crime in the area and living costs were reasonable.

Alex turned from her door and c
annoned into a hard body in front of her. Glancing down, she took in every sinuous bulging muscle of pure male. Her eyes slid upwards. Holding her breath, she squeezed her eyes shut.
It can’t be
, she thought.
No way can he be standing here right now
.

* * *

“Well hello. Fancy bumping into you again.” Solomon grinned. He was shocked that this was the same woman he’d made love to in every conceivable position. He stared down, peering through her hideous glasses and into vivid green eyes.

A
nd he knew it was her.

He w
ondered where the hell the sexy siren had gone. Out of all the reunion scenarios he’d envisioned, this didn’t come close.

“What are you doing here?”
Her voice was hoarse, almost a whisper. Her eyes dropped to his hands.

Solomon saw where she focused her attention
and remembered every scintillating touch. He recalled the way his fingers had stroked her, where he’d stroked her. How they’d walked their way through every moist, lush fold. More skilled than any concert pianist, he knew which notes to hit.

“
I’m your new neighbour.” He stood in front of her, his hands resting on slim hips, and grinned down. “Thought I’d introduce myself, but I guess there’s no need now.”

He
tried not to burst out laughing at the shock that registered on her face, how her mouth moved while no words came out.