Run Rosie Run (14 page)

With that he left.

Nico sat and took a deep drink of his beer before he met Josh’s eyes which were dancing with sheer wickedness.

‘I had no idea they had feelings for each other,’ Nico said by way of an apology.

Josh just shook his head.

‘No worries. It’s the best laugh I’ve had for months.’

Nico heaved a great sigh.

‘Bronte is going to kill me.’

‘Yeah? But what a way to go.’

After pleading the headache from hell due to the heat as an excuse to cancel her dinner with Bronte, Rosie dropped her cell phone on the sofa.

At least that part of her excuse to Bronte wasn’t a lie. Her head was splitting. And now she sat with it in her hands.

She hated lying to Bronte.

But she wasn’t up to explaining the awful mess she’d made of her life with her best friend until she’d sorted it out in her own mind.

Josh had phoned to make sure she was okay. And that mortified her too. What on earth had she been thinking telling him what had happened between her and Alexander?

But Josh had been so kind and sympathetic and everything had just poured out of her big mouth.

Her head jerked up at the hammer of a fist on her door.

Checking the peep hole, the harsh face of Alexander stared back at her. Since her car was in the drive he knew perfectly well she was there so there was no point in indulging in the overwhelming urge to crawl on her belly under her bed.

He’d probably come to grovel.

She opened the door.

Alexander’s lip was a bruised and bloodied mess and Rosie couldn’t find it in her heart to be sorry.

She held the door wide and accepted his peace offering, a bottle of chilled Italian white wine, her favourite Frascati.

He’d showered, changed into ancient blue jeans, a tight black T-shirt with short sleeves that displayed his wide shoulders and narrow waist. His usually immaculate hair was damp and curling at the ends. As ever he looked too damned attractive for his own good.

Head held high, Rosie closed the door and breezed past him into her open plan kitchen to open the wine.

Walking behind her Alexander couldn’t help noticing how cute she looked in white jeans that hugged her beautiful ass and black vest which showcased her tan.

A heavy riot of glossy curls bounced low on her back.

One look at her face told him she was on edge and he hadn’t missed how her hand shook when she’d taken the bottle of wine.

He ordered himself to wind his neck in and not demand to know what the hell she was thinking talking to Josh about being fuck buddies and babies.

Neither event was going to happen.

No way. Nope. Never.

He followed her into the sitting room and moved to sit on one of her low couches of black velvet.

Rosie placed the open bottle of wine, two goblets on the large glass coffee table.

He stood, waiting for her to sit first.

But she moved to the window and stared out at the garden with her back to him.

Well, what the hell did he expect?

He cleared his throat as he swallowed a huge lump of pride.

‘I’m deeply sorry I hurt you. I have no excuse for it.’

After an eternal moment, she turned to look at him and folded her arms tight across her breasts.

She looked gorgeous.

‘Is it painful?’

‘Agony.’

‘Good. I’m delighted to hear it. Have a seat. What I have to say might take some time.’

He sat.

She placed her hands on the back of a couch and leaned over.

Those dark chocolate eyes impaled his and what he read there made his cheeks burn.

‘I don’t know where you got the idea that what happens in my life is your business.’

He took a breath. ‘I ...’

‘I’m not finished. I suppose this was bound to happen sooner or later. You’ve never really seen me have you, Alexander? You see me as some sort of weird extension to your sphere of influence. I am not your responsibility. I don’t belong to you. I don’t need your permission to have sex. I don’t need your permission to live my life the way I see fit.’

‘I’m...’

Her eyes flashed.

‘Shut up! You need to back off. Stay away from Sweet Sensationss.’

‘Bu...’

‘No buts. Have I made myself clear?’

It killed him the way she spoke to him, the way she looked at him.

‘I care for you, Rosie. We do have a relationship.’

Colour flashed into her cheeks, then leaked away leaving her too pale.

‘I don’t want to have a relationship with you.’

She moved to pour the wine.

‘Rosie?’

Pausing, she lifted her head to look at him, those dark eyes stared into his.

‘Yes?’

‘Please forgive me?’

Her lips twitched in a way that had him release the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding.

Rosie was absolutely useless at holding a grudge, always had been.

‘I’ll think about it.’

Handing him a glass, she took her own, sat opposite and took a sip.

‘Very nice. Thanks,’ she said.

He placed his glass on the table.

The rift between them felt as deep and wide as the Atlantic Ocean.

Rosie grabbed a big cushion of red silk and gave it a hug.

‘I shouldn’t have said those things about you last night. My only excuse is that I’d had a bad day and was taking it out on you. I’m sorry.’

He still couldn’t work out what he’d done to make her so angry with him in the first place.

‘What have I done to make you hate me?’

Shit.

I don’t hate you,’ Rosie whispered.

He cleared his throat.

‘The way you spoke about me to Josh, at the very least you don’t like me. What did I do?’

Bugger.

‘It’s not you, Alexander. It’s me.’

By the narrowing of those green eyes, he wasn’t buying that pathetic line and who could blame him?

He took a sip of wine and those eyes never left her face for a second.

Why? Why had she lied about a fictional man named Simon?

‘Rosie!’

Alexander’s voice, sharp and concerned made her jump.

‘What?’

‘Are you okay?’

And wasn’t he the cause of all her problems? Bastard.

‘You startled me yelling like that,’ she snapped.

Now he frowned.

‘You were miles away. I called your name twice.’

‘What’s the matter now?’ Rosie said, determined to take charge of the conversation.

Alexander simply stared at her and was that sympathy in those green eyes?

Was that pity?

‘Look,’ he said gently. ‘This Simon guy is not worth it. I’ve been doing some digging and I think I know who he is. It’s Simon Lowther isn’t it? He’s a captain for one of the big luxury airlines.’

Her heart stumbled.

The buzzing in her ears was like a hive of bees.

What?

Rosie blinked. ‘What?’

She couldn’t think.

All she could was stare at him in horror.

Like a train without brakes Alexander just kept on rolling.

Now he nodded as his lips went tight and that jaw clenched.

‘I knew it. Apparently he’s out of the country, but when he gets back he and I will have a little chat.’

This could
not
be happening.

Simon didn’t exist.

He wasn’t real!

‘No!’

She recognised that stubborn look in those dark green eyes. That look meant business. That look meant Simon who was not real might end up walking with a limp.

Omigod.

The only way to deal with this potential disaster was to head Alexander off at the pass.

‘How dare you interfere in my life? Have you listened to a single word I’ve said?’

But Alexander simply put up his hands.

‘I knew you’d be pissed. But he’s hurt you and I’m not fucking standing for it.’

Panic caught her breath.

‘You’re not standing for it?’ she whispered.

‘I know it’s him. Tall, blonde, tanned, works out. Apparently the man loves himself and he’s got a body like Adonis. What the hell were you thinking?’ he demanded.

‘I’ve... I’ve... no idea,’ she said faintly.

‘What I want to know is why the big secret?’

The room spun as Rosie pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead.

She felt hot.

Maybe she had a temperature?

Maybe she was having a psychotic break?

‘Secret?’ she repeated in a dazed voice.

‘Yeah, why the sneaking around in the middle of the night?’

Those eyes lasered into hers as if he had x-ray vision.

And the craziness of the situation made hysteria tickle her throat.

Rosie slapped a hand to her mouth, swallowing the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

‘Tell the truth,’
her conscience demanded.

‘Are you kidding?’
the devil responded.

The devil was right.

Alexander would never let her forget it.

Worse, he’d want to know why she’d lied and she rather burn in the fiery pit of hell itself than admit she was in love with him.

Now Alexander leaned forward.

‘Look at the state of you. You’ve lost weight. The dark circles under your eyes are proof positive you’re not sleeping. And all because of a scumbag.’

Think, dammit,
think
.

But her brain had packed up its bags and gone on a long trip to... Who knew? Who cared?

So Rosie did the next best thing.

She fled.

Locked in her guest loo, Rosie sat on the toilet seat.

What was she going to do?

She couldn’t believe it.

This could
not
be happening.

How was it possible that an airline captain called Simon, who was blonde, tanned and built like Adonis actually existed?

‘See what happens when a person sets out to deceive?’
her conscience jeered.

‘Shut up,’ she muttered.

She needed to think. Fast.

Rosie ran hands that weren’t quite steady through the dark curls of her hair.

She stood, ran the tap, washed her hands and avoided looking at herself in the mirror.

This was exactly the trouble with Alexander.

This was so typical of him.

He just had to stick his nose in her business.

In fact, he’d spent a lifetime practising sticking his nose in her business.

And she just knew he’d confront Simon.

He’d accuse him of hurting Rosie Gordon.

And when the guy said he’d no idea who Rosie Gordon was, Alexander would thump him.

Or worse, he’d take Nico along.

Omigod.

Nico knew things like how to hurt someone without leaving a mark.

Again hysteria squeezed her lungs.

The first thing to do was to keep calm, no need to panic.

She’d tell Alexander, very firmly, to stay away from Simon.

But then her heart stopped dead for one beat, two.

What if Simon had a partner, a girlfriend or, a
wife?
Or worse, children?

Omigod.

‘Oh please, don’t have a wife or kids,’ she moaned softly.

But what if he did?

‘Then I’ll confess. I will. I promise,’ she whispered.

With a bump Rosie sat on the toilet lid and the awful truth hit her too hard.

She was a thief, a stalker and a liar.

But no way in hell would she let an innocent man be accused of having an affair with her when he’d done nothing wrong.

‘I’ll absolutely tell the truth, to everything.’

Taking a very deep breath, Rosie rejoined Alexander.

She sank to the couch, picked up her wine and took a deep gulp.

Her eyes met his.

Her voice, she told herself, was firm and to the point.

‘I want you to stay away, far away, from Simon. Do I make myself clear?’

No answer.

And that was not a good sign.

Not good at all.

Now Alexander frowned.

‘This thing you’ve got going with Josh. Is it serious?’

The tone of his voice was too harsh.

Rosie bit down hard on her bottom lip.

She’d forgotten all about Josh.

She plucked the corner of the cushion.

Playing games was never smart, they only made a bad situation worse.

Ain’t that the truth.

‘The thing with Josh is just friends.’

The heavy sigh he heaved had her frown.

‘You looked pretty close this afternoon,’ he pressed her.

Hadn’t she told him Josh was simply messing around?

And what was it with men and their secret signals?

‘What’s a death stare?’ she wanted to know.

‘It’s a guy thing.’

Rosie didn’t bother to hide the edge in her voice.

‘I’m not a bone to be fought over.’

‘I know you’re not,’ he said, his voice so low and soft it brought a lump the size of a fist to her throat.

What was it Josh had said, that she needed to be brave?

She tugged at the corner of the cushion and took a deep breath as her pulse roared in her ears.

‘What did you mean that you have... feelings for me?’ She couldn’t say the word
romantic,
it stuck in her throat.

He placed his wine on the table, stood and moved to sit beside her.

Alexander pulled the cushion from her arms, tossed it and turned her to face him.

‘Look at me,’ he ordered.

When she didn’t comply gentle fingers gripped her chin and forced her to meet his eyes.

His expression was hard, determined, controlled.

Her gaze dropped to his lip and she winced.

The scent of his light cologne, shampoo and clean healthy male spun around her heightened senses as her heart pounded in her chest.

He raised his hand to tuck a dark curl behind her ear.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Scaring you to death, apparently.’

‘This is so not a good idea,’ she whispered.

And on sooooo many levels.

Those eyes never left hers as his hand cupped her jaw.