Scored (15 page)

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Authors: Lily Harlem

BOOK: Scored
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“You don’t know what you’ve just started.” He paused, touched his nose to mine. “Because that was just to take the edge of what I want to do to you. The best is yet to come.”

“When?” I could hardly restraint the need in my voice.

He frowned. “Like I said, I’m a man who gets what he wants, Nicky, and I want you. So you can rest assured it won’t be long.”

A sudden high-pitched beeping caught his attention and he glanced at his silver wristwatch. “I have to go. I gave myself forty minutes to get here, meet with you and then get back. Figured I could make something up about a walk around the park or a trip to get a few souvenirs if anyone noticed.” He lifted my hand and kissed my palm. “I have to go.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll see you in Kiev, at the press conference.”

“Yep. Good luck, not that you need it.”

“A bit of luck never does any harm.” He stood and tugged me with him. “And right now I feel like the luckiest guy on earth.”

He certainly looked like he’d had a weight lifted off him. His shoulders, though still hard and tense, weren’t bunched up around his ears, and his limbs looked loose and pliant. It would have been so nice now if we could just stretch out in bed, soak in a bath or massage one another. Let him enjoy his post-orgasm glow and perhaps bring me into the same state.

But that wasn’t the case and instead we moved from the pews, down the aisle and out in to the dazzling morning sunshine.

I turned to him. He wore his shades again and his hoody was right up and around his face. “I guess its goodbye then,” I said.

“Give me your phone.”

After rummaging in my purse, I handed it to him. He fiddled for a few seconds, tapping his finger on the screen. A double beep came from his pocket.

“I’ve just sent myself a text,” he said. “Now I have your number. He leaned forward slightly, as though to kiss me.

I stepped back and shook my head. Glanced at the shops and the cafés on the street opposite. “Someone might see.”

“But I’m in disguise.”

“Not worth the risk.” I shrugged.

He sighed. “You’re right.”

“Go, look, there’s a taxi.”

He gave me one last lingering look then trotted down the steps, held out his arm and hailed the passing cab.

Chapter Seven

 

“Hey, Nicky.”

I turned at the familiar voice. It was Phil, crossing the road, dodging the traffic at a slight jog and waving at me.

“Hi,” I called, resisting the urge to glance down the street after Lewis. Shit that had been close. Phil would have recognized him in a heartbeat.

“What are you up to?” he asked.

“Oh, not much, just…you know.” I shrugged. “Hanging out.”

“What in there?” He pointed to the cathedral. “I wouldn’t have guessed you were the sort to go to church every morning.”

I folded my arms. “Why not?”

“Because you have a bad girl glint in your eye, that’s why.”

“I do not.”

He laughed. “Oh, you so have.”

Shit. Yes, I probably really did have at this moment in time, but I wasn’t about to confess any of my sins to Phil.

“So will you join me for a coffee?” he asked. “I’m just waiting for the car hire place round the corner to open.”

“Sure.” The thought of a nice strong caffeine hit was very appealing. Plus my mouth was a little dry and salty.

We crossed back over the road, Phil cupping my elbow at one point and hurrying me when a bus appeared not to be slowing down.

“Why are you going to the car rental place?” I asked as we sat at one of the curbside tables.

“I need a car to drive to Kiev.”

“Drive?”

A waitress came over, notepad and pencil at the ready.

“Cappuccino, please.”

“Espresso,” Phil ordered.

She nodded and walked away. I returned my attention to Phil. “You’re going to drive? All that way?”

“It’s not that far. Won’t take more than about five hours. We reckon it will be fun.” He leaned forward. “Hey, why don’t you come with us?”

“Who’s us?”

“Me, Ted and James. Come on, it’ll be a laugh.” He grinned and spread his palms. “Road trip!”

“I don’t know, I was kind of thinking the train would be a nice easy option.”

He pulled a face. “The trains here are notoriously unreliable. You’ll be lucky to get there for tomorrow evening’s kick-off.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Much better to rely on your own transportation. Or in this case,
my
transportation.” He rested his hand on my arm. “Go on, say yes.”

Our coffees arrived and he was forced to move his hand.

“I’ll only worry about you traveling alone otherwise,” he said.

“I can look after myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but worrying gives me terrible stomach cramps, and I’m sure, being the good, church-going girl that you are you wouldn’t want to knowingly subject another human being to pain.” He grimaced and clutched his abdomen.

I laughed. Partly at the thought of me being a good, church-going girl and partly because of his over-the-top way of persuading me to travel with him.

“Okay,” I said after a moment’s thought. “I will. Thanks for the offer. If the train really is that unreliable I don’t fancy arriving in Kiev at midnight, or worse still, sometime tomorrow.”

“Great.” He beamed and puffed out his chest. “I’ll collect you from the Donbass at two and we’ll hit the road. It’s going to be so much fun, baby.”

Mmm, I wondered if it really would be.

 

Phil pulled up at two on the dot in a sleek black Nissan. The Donbass doorman loaded my case into the boot then held the passenger door open for me. I slipped in and immediately Phil’s strong, spiced aftershave filled my nostrils.

“Hi,” he said, slipping shades onto the top of his head. “Are you ready for the ride of your life?”

I glanced behind myself. “Where are Ted and James?”

“Ah, they decided to get their own set of wheels. They wanted something convertible, you know, so they could pick up birds.”

“Really.” That bit of information was a shock. “Ted’s married and James, well, isn’t James gay?”

Phil pulled out onto the main road. “Is he?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure.” I bit my tongue. Perhaps it wasn’t common knowledge. Shit.

Phil grinned and turned on the radio. “Yeah, I think he is. I don’t know why they wanted a convertible, they just did. You like Adele?”

“Yes, she’s my favorite.”

His grin broadened. “Great. So who was that you were talking to when you came out of the cathedral earlier?”

My heart flipped. Damn. I thought I’d got away with that. “Who?”

“The tall guy at the top of the steps with you.” He glanced across at me. “In the black hoody.”

I resisted the urge to squirm. My internal monologue was a barrage of gutter cursing. Why did Phil have to have such eager eyes and such a nosy disposition? Oh, yeah, it was his job, and he was bloody good at it, waiting until I was off-guard then bringing it up.

“It was no one,” I said, feigning interest in a monument we were passing.

“Of course it was someone.”

We stopped at lights and he grinned. He looked as if butter wouldn’t melt but I knew full well a Rottweiler lay beneath his pleasant exterior. If he had even a whiff that it was a story, he wouldn’t let go.

“No, I mean, it really was no one. A homeless man who was hanging around in the entrance. He had a…” I hesitated. Why would a homeless man catch a cab? If he’d seen me talking to Lewis he would have seen him nip off sharpish into that taxi.

Phil cocked his head, still grinning patiently, and his beady eyes watching my face like a hawk. No doubt for micro-expressions.

“And he had this terrible abscess on his arm.” I pulled a face and made a bulging, pulsing motion over my forearm. “Really nasty and oozing pus. He was sweating and clearly unwell. I think he might have had septicemia.”

“Yuk.”

“So I gave him some money for a cab to get himself to the hospital for treatment.”

Phil raised his brows. “Wow, that was incredibly kind of you.”

Yep. I’m full of good deeds today.
“Well, I figured prayers have to be answered sometimes.” I smiled sweetly and was relieved when the lights changed and Phil’s concentration returned to the road.

“Regular little saint, aren’t you?” He gave me one last glance. His eyes lost that I’m-not-going-to-let-it-drop look and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Can I turn this one up?” I asked, reaching for the volume button. “This is my favorite track.”

“Sure.” He reached into the door compartment and produced a packet of sweets. “Here, I got these to keep us going until we stop for something to eat.”

“What time do you think we’ll get there?”

“About seven if we only stop for a quick snack, later if we find somewhere nice for dinner.”

I opened the pack of sweets and popped a cherry drop into my mouth.

“So why did the homeless guy need to look at your phone?”

I just about choked on the damn sweet. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I thought it was you so I was coming over the road and I realized he had your phone. It must have been yours because he handed it back to you.”

Flustered as I was, a nip of irritation traveled up my spine. What did it have to do with Phil anyway?

“I can’t remember,” I said, folding my arms and staring at the truck in front. It was crammed full of sheep and their beady eyes were looking out at me from between the slats.

“You can’t remember?” Phil asked, turning to me.

The sheep truck veered to the right.

“Eyes on the road, Phil,” I shouted, gripping the dash and pointing at the cyclist the truck was swerving to avoid.

“Fuck.” Phil shouted, also swinging to the center of the road.

Adele carried on singing.

“Bloody hell,” I gasped, pressing my palm to my sternum. “Crazy bloody drivers around here.”

“Yeah,” he said, gripping the steering wheel and staring straight ahead. His eyes were wide and his knuckles had paled.

We were silent for a full minute.

“So have you remembered yet?” he asked eventually.

“About what?”

“The homeless guy. Why he needed to look at your phone?”

“Ah, that, yes, he was checking the Google map to see where the nearest hospital was.”

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