okay.”
“You know we’re one and the same, right? Like Superman and Clark Kent?”
“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head and moved away from him. “Thinking of you as two separate people is the only thing getting me through this.”
His words gave her pause, though. Alexander had been right to remind her exactly who she was sleeping with. It had been fun, but that’s all it was, and the sooner she extricated herself from this situation, the better it would be all round.
But then he smiled at her, and her heart melted. In the bedroom, he wasn’t the Silver Fox, he was just Heath, tall and gorgeous and sexy. But she knew she shouldn’t forget his alter ego.
She walked further into the room, crossing her arms over the bodice that still gaped slightly, and stood in the centre, wondering what to do. Her instincts told her to fly, but her heart told her to stay.
Heath walked over to the fridge, took out a bottle of wine, and poured a glass. He held it out to her. “One for the road?”
She swallowed. “Alex was right. You don’t know anything about me.”
He shrugged and walked closer to her, holding out the glass of wine. “So tell me.”
Chapter 13
She hesitated, wary. But his eyes were gentle, his smile genuine. Sighing, she took the wine.
He went over to the bed and sat, leaned against the pillows and stretched out his legs. Then he tapped the mattress next to him. “Come and sit down.”
She curled up on the bed beside him, feeling shy. “What do you want to know?”
He sipped his wine. “Whose ring is it you normally wear?”
She bit her lip. “It belonged to Alex’s wife, Melissa.”
“Ah. She passed away?”
“Yes. Two years ago. Cancer.” It had been a difficult time for them both, and she didn’t particularly want to talk about the traumatic end.
Luckily he must have picked up on that, because he didn’t push her. “Are you related to them?” he asked instead.
“No.”
“So how do you know them?”
She studied her fingernails. She’d never spoken about this to anyone before.
But his eyes were gentle, and something in her wanted to confide. “I…saved her life once.”
His eyes widened. “Well, quite clearly I want to know more about that.”
Did she really want to relive it all again? Part of her panicked at the thought of raking up old emotions. But it had happened so long ago, she reminded herself, trying to keep calm. The events had no power over her now—Alex had told her this repeatedly.
She gave in. “They were going to the opera and were attacked by a mugger. I just happened to be nearby.”
“Yeah,” he said, “Like that’s the whole story. Come on, spit it out. How did you stop the mugger?”
“I used his knife on him.”
He stared at her. “What?”
“I know a few moves.” Although she was proud of her self-defence skills, she didn’t particularly want to demonstrate them on him.
He heaved a sigh, obviously frustrated at her lack of detail. “What were you doing there? Were you going to the opera too?”
She laughed. “No, not quite.”
He waited, one eyebrow raised. Clearly he was going to wait until she said something.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I was homeless at the time.”
His smile faded. “Homeless?”
“Yes. I ran away from home when I was fifteen. I went to London and lived on the streets for two years. By pure chance I was outside the opera house when Alex and Melissa were attacked. I knocked the mugger’s knife out of his hand and threatened him with it, and he ran off. Melissa asked me to come back with them to their house. I wasn’t going to, but I hadn’t eaten properly for weeks. They took me in, gave me a meal and a shower, and let me sleep the night on the sofa. And I never left.” She related it all as matter-of-factly as she could, as if it had happened to someone else.
“Fucking hell…” For once, he seemed speechless. She let him stare at her as she sipped her wine, trying to calm her pounding
“You know we’re one and the same, right? Like Superman and Clark Kent?”
“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head and moved away from him. “Thinking of you as two separate people is the only thing getting me through this.”
His words gave her pause, though. Alexander had been right to remind her exactly who she was sleeping with. It had been fun, but that’s all it was, and the sooner she extricated herself from this situation, the better it would be all round.
But then he smiled at her, and her heart melted. In the bedroom, he wasn’t the Silver Fox, he was just Heath, tall and gorgeous and sexy. But she knew she shouldn’t forget his alter ego.
She walked further into the room, crossing her arms over the bodice that still gaped slightly, and stood in the centre, wondering what to do. Her instincts told her to fly, but her heart told her to stay.
Heath walked over to the fridge, took out a bottle of wine, and poured a glass. He held it out to her. “One for the road?”
She swallowed. “Alex was right. You don’t know anything about me.”
He shrugged and walked closer to her, holding out the glass of wine. “So tell me.”
Chapter 13
She hesitated, wary. But his eyes were gentle, his smile genuine. Sighing, she took the wine.
He went over to the bed and sat, leaned against the pillows and stretched out his legs. Then he tapped the mattress next to him. “Come and sit down.”
She curled up on the bed beside him, feeling shy. “What do you want to know?”
He sipped his wine. “Whose ring is it you normally wear?”
She bit her lip. “It belonged to Alex’s wife, Melissa.”
“Ah. She passed away?”
“Yes. Two years ago. Cancer.” It had been a difficult time for them both, and she didn’t particularly want to talk about the traumatic end.
Luckily he must have picked up on that, because he didn’t push her. “Are you related to them?” he asked instead.
“No.”
“So how do you know them?”
She studied her fingernails. She’d never spoken about this to anyone before.
But his eyes were gentle, and something in her wanted to confide. “I…saved her life once.”
His eyes widened. “Well, quite clearly I want to know more about that.”
Did she really want to relive it all again? Part of her panicked at the thought of raking up old emotions. But it had happened so long ago, she reminded herself, trying to keep calm. The events had no power over her now—Alex had told her this repeatedly.
She gave in. “They were going to the opera and were attacked by a mugger. I just happened to be nearby.”
“Yeah,” he said, “Like that’s the whole story. Come on, spit it out. How did you stop the mugger?”
“I used his knife on him.”
He stared at her. “What?”
“I know a few moves.” Although she was proud of her self-defence skills, she didn’t particularly want to demonstrate them on him.
He heaved a sigh, obviously frustrated at her lack of detail. “What were you doing there? Were you going to the opera too?”
She laughed. “No, not quite.”
He waited, one eyebrow raised. Clearly he was going to wait until she said something.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I was homeless at the time.”
His smile faded. “Homeless?”
“Yes. I ran away from home when I was fifteen. I went to London and lived on the streets for two years. By pure chance I was outside the opera house when Alex and Melissa were attacked. I knocked the mugger’s knife out of his hand and threatened him with it, and he ran off. Melissa asked me to come back with them to their house. I wasn’t going to, but I hadn’t eaten properly for weeks. They took me in, gave me a meal and a shower, and let me sleep the night on the sofa. And I never left.” She related it all as matter-of-factly as she could, as if it had happened to someone else.
“Fucking hell…” For once, he seemed speechless. She let him stare at her as she sipped her wine, trying to calm her pounding
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