Chapter Twelve

Lizzie woke up drenched in sweat and with a man’s arms clasped firmly round her shoulders. She experienced a moment of blinding terror, before she realised whose arms they were.

‘It’s okay, Lizzie. You’re having a bad dream.’

As her eyes fell on Nick’s anxious face she quit the struggle she’d been having with the man in her head and lay back weakly against the pillow. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered when she finally found her voice. ‘Did I wake you?’

Nick smoothed back the hair that stuck to her damp forehead. ‘Generally speaking I do wake up when I hear a woman scream.’

‘Oh God, I wasn’t, was I?’

‘Well, maybe not so much screaming, more shouting.’

‘Crap.’ She ran a hand over her face, horrified to find it clammy. ‘What did I say?’

‘Get your fucking hands off me, you bastard.’ He smiled gently down on her. ‘I heard that one clearly enough.’

Embarrassed, she shrank further back into the pillow. ‘Not very ladylike.’

His smile disappeared. ‘I expect, at the time, you weren’t being treated like a lady.’

Images from the nightmare flashed through her mind. Her lying prostrate on a bed. Two men on either side of her, fighting her, slapping her round the face. Telling her she was a whore.

‘Hey, come back to me.’

‘Sorry.’ Her voice sounded small and fragile. ‘I was just remembering what woke me.’

Nick shifted her along the bed, making room so he could sit down next to her. ‘Come here.’ Putting an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her towards him. ‘You’re safe now. Go back to sleep.’

‘I’m not sure I can. Every time I close my eyes, the same images keep running through my mind.’

His arms stiffened. ‘I take it those images have something to do with those bloody photographs.’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you think what you saw was a true memory?’

‘Definitely not,’ she reassured him. ‘The scene is from the photographs Charles took, but it’s muddled, the faces morphing from ex boyfriends into those of the men who harassed us at the restaurant.’

He eased them both further down the bed so she was lying down next to him, her head resting on his chest. It felt natural. So perfectly right. ‘We’re going to have to get you thinking about something else then. Something pleasant.’ His heart was a steady, comforting beat beneath her ear. ‘What do you want to picture when you close your eyes? A mountain of chocolate? A flashing row of cameras?’

She managed a weak laugh. ‘Nice try, but neither of those is going to help me sleep. The first gives me hunger pangs. The second kick starts the adrenaline.’

‘Okay, okay. Let me think. How about a warm, sun-kissed beach? Glistening white sand, clear turquoise water?’

‘Any sharks?’

She felt him shake his head. ‘You’re not playing fair. Come on, close your eyes. Feel the sand beneath your feet, the warmth of the sun on your back.’

Slowly she shut her eyes. ‘Umm, now you mention it, that sounds lovely. I’ve not been on holiday for years.’

‘You live by the beach,’ he pointed out.

‘That’s not the same as going on holiday. Nothing to do but read books in the sun and paddle in the sea.’

‘Now you’re getting there.’

As she listened to him describing her dream holiday, she instinctively snuggled closer. Through his thin cotton T-shirt she noticed how beautifully solid his chest felt. Athletic and muscular. He certainly didn’t feel like an accountant, not that she could say she was an expert in that field. The longer Nick’s deep, steady voice washed over her and his strong arms transmitted safety and security, the less the nightmare taunted her. Gradually she began to relax.

It was a while before she realised he’d stopped talking, though his hands still stroked her arm. Soothing, calming. She moved, wrapping her arms more tightly around him. Warm and strong, he felt heavenly. Male and spicy, he smelt heavenly, too. Dimly she became aware that his hand had moved from her arm to her back, the strokes still slow and steady.

But now she wasn’t feeling sleepy any more. In fact her breasts were starting to tingle, her pulse to flutter. His movements were no longer sending her to sleep. They were turning her on.

Oh God, she wanted this, but she didn’t want this. Wanted this because she’d fancied him forever and was now starting to fall in love with him. Plus if anyone could banish her fear of being intimate with another man, Nick could. Didn’t want this, because she was rubbish when it came to men and relationships, as her recent track history had proved. Sleeping with him would only poison what they had. She was better suited to men in the limelight. Those who craved the attention she could give them. Who treated her as she deserved to be treated. Men like those on the list she’d given Nick last night.

Automatically she started to shift away, but the motion brought her head up close to his. Her mouth on a level with his mouth. Her lips inches away from his.

The inches disappeared, and Nick kissed her. Gently at first, softly enough that she had time to move away, had she wanted to. Her mind might believe she should, but under the persuasive heat of his lips, her body had other ideas. She was helpless to do anything other than melt. Seductive, arousing, his mouth caressed and teased. He didn’t demand, but rather coaxed, enticed. As he increased the pressure her head fell back against the pillow and his body eased across hers. She inhaled sharply at the feel of long, hard, male lines and a hot, heavy arousal against her thigh. But even as his mouth trailed sexy kisses over her face and down her neck, inside a voice niggled. Is this really what they both wanted?

‘Nick?’ Gently she pushed him away.

Dark brown eyes snapped sharply into focus. The flare of passion drained away, replaced with a look of horror. ‘Shit.’ He leapt from the bed with the speed of a man who’d touched a live wire. ‘I’m sorry.’ With another oath he yanked open the door. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’

Nick stumbled back to his bedroom, disgusted with himself. Had he really thought he’d be able to lie next to her and simply soothe her to sleep? When only a few strips of cotton separated her slender body from his, her soft breasts from his chest? Clearly when it came to Lizzie, all his brain cells disappeared.

With a groan of frustration he lay on his bed, hands over his face, body as stiff as a board. He’d blown it. There was no way he could mistake the puzzled look on her face, the confusion in her eyes when she’d tried to push him off. Hell, he was supposed to have been comforting her, not forcing himself on her. He shuddered at the thought of what he’d done, after all she’d been through. How was he meant to steer their friendship back on an even keel after a move like that?

For several hours he lay awake, staring into space. By the time the soft light of dawn crept between his curtains he knew he couldn’t stay in the house any longer. Pulling on his running shorts and a T-shirt, he crept downstairs. Perhaps a long run would help to rid him of some of this terrible ache he had inside. The ache of wanting something he could never have.

Lizzie didn’t manage much sleep, either. Hard to, when she knew two doors down the hallway, Nick was in his bedroom. Impossible to, with the memory of his tender kisses still lingering on her lips and her body a mass of sensitised nerve endings, crying out for him to finish what they’d started. But it didn’t matter what she wanted. It hadn’t eight years ago when she’d first propositioned him, and it didn’t now. Nick didn’t want her. Oh, his body had been keen enough, but when he’d realised what he was doing, or more precisely who he was doing it with, he’d not been able to get away from her fast enough. Wearily she rubbed at her eyes, wishing she hadn’t had a nightmare. Wishing Nick hadn’t tried to comfort her. More than anything, wishing he hadn’t been horrified at the thought of making love to her.

At the sound of a door closing she peered out of the window, only to see Nick running down the drive. Who was he running away from? Her or himself? With a groan she slumped back onto the bed and willed herself to drift back to sleep.

A few hours later she woke to a grumbling hunger. Unable to ignore it, she grabbed her dressing gown and crept downstairs, feeling stupidly nervous about bumping into Nick. But after peeking into all the rooms, she soon realised he wasn’t in. Was he still running? Surely not – she’d last seen him hare off down the drive two hours ago.

Just then his exhausted, bedraggled form stumbled through the front door.

Bent over, hands on knees, shirt streaked with sweat and legs caked in mud, he heaved in several, ragged lungfuls of air.

‘I was starting to wonder where you’d disappeared to.’

Slowly he stood to his full height. ‘I needed to clear my head.’ His voice was tight as a drum, body held rigidly taut. He was probably cringing just being in the same room with her.

‘How far did you go?’

‘Over the hills and back. Nearly twenty miles.’

She baulked. ‘Wow, that’s harsh medicine. I think I’ll clear my head with a cup of coffee, a piece of toast and a sit in the sun.’

He released a tiny glimpse of a smile. ‘Enjoy. I’ll catch you later.’

Later turned out to be a lot later, because apparently Nick needed to go into the London office today. And though it was Monday and probably to be expected, she couldn’t help thinking it had more to do with what had happened last night than his work.

She also couldn’t help wondering if Sally would be there. If they’d meet for lunch. If Nick would admit to her that he’d kissed another woman.

And if Sally would forgive him when he reassured her he’d stopped the kiss as soon as he’d realised who he was kissing.

It was after nine when Lizzie finally heard his car scrunching back down the driveway.

‘I’ve made us some chilli,’ she announced when he walked through the door. It had been therapy, of sorts. A few precious moments when she hadn’t thought of last night and how he’d fled from her.

‘Oh, um, thanks.’ He rubbed a hand over his weary face. ‘I’ll take a bowl up to the study. I’ve got a bit more stuff to finish.’

‘You wouldn’t be trying to avoid me by any chance, would you?’

Like a child caught in a lie, Nick skirted over her eyes, taking a great interest in the wall above her right shoulder. ‘I’ve just got a lot on, that’s all.’

‘Fine,’ Lizzie replied coolly. God, the man was exasperating when he wanted to be. ‘Take your meal to the study. Do your work. Put your head in the sand for a while longer. But after that you need to pull it out and come downstairs. We have to talk.’

He gave her a quick, bleak look before spooning chilli from the steaming pot into a dish and legging it up the stairs, two at a time. Lizzie turned back to the empty kitchen, ladled some chilli into a bowl for herself and sighed. Nick could run from her, but he wasn’t going to be able to hide for much longer. It hurt that he didn’t want her like she wanted him, but she wasn’t about to lose his friendship over it. Even if it did mean having to pin him down for a very awkward conversation.

Nick, cowardly custard that he was, sat huddled over his computer in his office, no longer pretending to work. He just couldn’t face her. Not yet. Not when his mind was still trying to figure out what to say. Oops, sorry I forgot we were only supposed to be friends. Yeah, that was real classy. Or how about the truth. I’ve been in love with you forever. Every time I see you, I want you more. I would die to make love to you all night long, until you’re convinced you’ll never want another man. Like she was going to want to hear that after the shocked way she’d looked at him when she’d pushed him away.

So, instead of going downstairs and talking to her, like a decent, honourable man, here he was, holed up in his study. Afraid to confront the woman he loved. Afraid to face up to what he’d done. Could he be more pathetic? Even he couldn’t invent any more work now, and his office smelt of stale chilli from the remnants of the bowl he’d finished over an hour ago. He needed a drink. A bloody large, alcoholic one. With any luck Lizzie had given up waiting for him and gone to bed.

Of course she hadn’t. Giving up wasn’t part of Lizzie’s vocabulary. She was the most determined person he’d ever met. It was what had brought her such world-renowned success. That and her breathtaking beauty. As he walked down the creaking stairs, she turned and looked him straight in the eye. That was another thing about her. She was direct and honest. Almost painfully so. Though he loved and admired that about her, right now he vehemently wished she was cowardly and evasive, like him.

‘Nick,’ she began as he reached the bottom of the stairs. ‘About what happened last night …’

‘I said I’m sorry.’ He winced at how defensive he sounded. ‘What more do you want me to say?’

‘There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ she replied crossly, looking at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers.

‘That’s not true. I took advantage of you. One minute you were having a nightmare, the next I’m all over you like a rash. That doesn’t score any nobility points in my book.’ He went to pour himself the drink he needed.

‘That’s not how I saw it. One minute we were enjoying a kiss, the next you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.’

‘What?’ She’d been enjoying it? Or was she just being kind? Letting him down gently?

‘Do you really think of me that way, Nick? Or were you imagining I was someone else?’

‘Hell, no. I mean, yes.’ He exhaled in frustration and moved towards the fireplace, clutching the whiskey as if his life depended on it.

‘Which one is it then? Yes or no?’

His head started to pound. ‘Both. No, I wasn’t imagining you were someone else. Yes, of course I think of you that way.’

Her eyes widened. ‘I always thought you saw me as a silly young girl. Your little sister.’

Buying himself time to formulate a reply he went to sit on the sofa, leaning forward so he could rest his hands on his knees. ‘It can’t have escaped your attention that you stopped being a little girl a long time ago.’ Unable to resist, he looked directly into her stunning blue eyes. ‘Now you’re a beautiful woman.’

To his astonishment, she blushed. ‘Thank you.’

He gazed into her eyes, mesmerised. She was so bloody gorgeous he almost couldn’t breathe, yet she’d flushed at his compliment? Unbelievable. It was only when she broke the contact, dropping her gaze to her hands, that he realised he’d been staring. No wonder she was embarrassed. ‘But you’ll always be Robert’s sister to me, Lizzie,’ he told her gruffly. ‘So you don’t need to worry. I can appreciate your beauty and still keep my hands off you.’ He bloody hoped.

He took a final swig of his drink and stood up. ‘Last night was a temporary blip. I won’t let it happen again.’ His words sounded harsh, as if he was blaming her when the fault was totally his. To soften them, and to reinforce his elder brother status again, he bent down and kissed her lightly on the top of her head. ‘Goodnight.’

Lizzie stared at Nick’s departing back, totally baffled. How could he tell her she was beautiful and then promise to keep his hands off her? Kiss her like he had last night and then promise not to let it happen again? God, he scrambled her brain so much, she wanted to scream. She was in half a mind to tear up the stairs after him, throw herself onto his bed and show him exactly how she thought of him. And it wasn’t as a flaming older brother. But her life was a mess and however she might want him, dragging Nick into that chaos wasn’t fair.

So instead of following her heart, she hung around downstairs a while, giving them both some space. Soon she’d be heading back to America. It was going to be hard enough to leave Nick as it was. If they started an affair, she’d never want to return. And she had to go back. For Robert, for her career. Besides, Nick was her one true friend; the only one who knew the real Lizzie. She couldn’t afford to risk complicating their relationship with an affair. If she lost him, she’d lose herself.

Her heart tightened and tears filled her eyes but she resolutely brushed them away and padded up the stairs to bed.