Harlequin Romance April 2015 Box Set (56 page)

‘Prissy?’ he queried. ‘My suit’s
prissy
?’

‘It’s beautifully cut, but it’s so neat and tidy. I’d like to see you dishevelled,’ she said, ‘like you were that morning in Capri.’

‘Would that
be the morning you threw me out of your bed?’

‘Yes, and don’t make me feel guilty about it. That was mainly circumstances,’ she said.

‘Hmm.’

‘Besides, I can’t throw you out of your own bed,’ she pointed out.

‘Now that’s impeccable logic.’ He frowned. ‘Though, actually, if you said no at any point I hope you realised I’d stop.’

She stroked his face. ‘Sean, of course I know
that. You’re...’

‘Dull?’

She shook her head. ‘I was going to say honourable.’

He brushed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, making her skin tingle. ‘You normally call me regimented.’

‘You can be. You were tonight, and I nearly left you to it and went home.’ She smiled. ‘But there’s a huge difference between regimented and dull.’

‘Is there?’

‘Let me show you,’
she said. ‘Take me to bed.’

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

To her surprise, he scooped her up and actually carried her up the stairs. She half wanted to make a snippy comment about him being muscle-bound, to tease him and push him, but at the same time she didn’t want to spoil the moment. She was shocked to discover that she actually quite liked the way he was taking charge and being all
troglodyte.

Once they were in his room, he set her down on her feet.

His bedroom was painted in shades of smoky blue—very masculine, with a polished wooden floor, a rug in a darker shade that toned with the walls and matched the curtains, and limed oak furniture. But what really caught Claire’s eye was his bed. A sleigh bed, also in limed oak, and she loved it. She’d always wanted a
bed like that, but there really wasn’t the room for that kind of furniture in her flat. Sean’s Victorian terraced house was much more spacious and the bed was absolutely perfect.

‘The last time you took your dress off for me,’ he said, ‘your underwear matched. Does it match today?’

‘That’s for me to know,’ she said, ‘and for you to find out.’

‘Is that a challenge?’

‘In part.
It’s also an offer.’ She paused. ‘Um, before this goes any further, do we have Monday’s problem?’

‘We absolutely do not,’ he confirmed.

‘Good.’ Because she was going to implode if she had to wait much longer.

He drew the curtains and turned on the bedside light; it was a touch lamp, so he was able to dim the glow. Then he sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Show me,’ he invited.

She unzipped her dress and stepped out of it, then hung it over the back of a chair.

‘What?’ she asked, seeing the amusement in his face.

‘You’re a closet neat freak,’ he said.

‘No. Just practical. This is linen. It creases very, very badly. And I’m not walking out of here looking as if I’ve just been tumbled in a haystack.’

He gave her a slow, sexy smile. ‘I like that image.
Very much. You, tumbled in a haystack.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s not at all romantic, you know. Straw’s prickly and itchy and totally unsexy.’

‘And I assume you know that because you’ve, um, gone with the flow?’

‘Listen, I haven’t slept with everyone I’ve dated, and I certainly haven’t slept with anyone else as fast as I fell into bed with
you
,’ she said, folding her arms and giving
him a level stare.

He stood up, walked over to her and brushed his mouth against hers. ‘I’m not calling you a tart, Claire. We both have pasts. It’s the twenty-first century, not the nineteen-fifties. I’m thirty and you’re twenty-seven. I’d be more surprised if we were both still virgins.’ He traced the lacy edge of her bra with one fingertip. ‘Mmm. Cream lace. I like this. You have excellent
taste in clothing, Ms Stewart.’

‘It’s oyster, not cream,’ she corrected.

He grinned. ‘And you have the cheek to call me prissy.’

‘Details,’ she said. ‘You need to get them right.’

‘We’re in agreement there.’

She coughed.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘I’m in my underwear. You can see that it matches, so I’ve done my half of the bargain. And right now, Mr Farrell, I have
to say that you’re very much overdressed.’

‘So strip me, Claire,’ he said, opening his arms to give her full access to his clothes.

It was an offer she wasn’t going to refuse.

* * *

Afterwards, curled in Sean’s arms, Claire turned her face so she could kiss his shoulder. ‘I’d better go.’

‘Not yet. This is comfortable.’ He held her closer. ‘Stay for a bit longer. I’ll drive
you home.’

So Sean the super-efficient businessman was a cuddler? Ah, bless, Claire thought. And, actually, she rather liked it. It made him that much more human. ‘OK,’ she said, and settled back against him.

Funny how they didn’t really need to talk. Just being together was enough. It was
peaceful
. Something else she would never have believed about herself and Sean; but she liked just
being with him. When he wasn’t being super-organised down to the last microsecond. And it seemed that he felt the same.

So maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t all going to end in tears.

When she finally got dressed and he drove her home, he parked outside her flat. ‘So. When are you free next?’ he asked.

‘Sunday?’ she suggested. ‘I have the shop on Saturday.’

‘Sunday works for me.’

‘You organised tonight, so I’ll organise Sunday,’ she said. ‘And that means doing things my way.’

‘Going with the flow.’ He looked slightly pained.

‘It means being spontaneous and having fun,’ she said. ‘I’ll pick you up at nine. And I won’t be late.’

‘No?’ he asked wryly.

‘No.’ She kissed him. ‘The first bit of tonight was, um, a bit much for me. But I loved dinner. I
loved the London Eye and just being with you. Those kind of things works for me. It’s just...’ She shook her head. ‘Schedules are for work. And I keep my work and my personal life separate.’

‘Hmm,’ he said, and she knew he wasn’t convinced. But then he made the effort and said, ‘I enjoyed being with you.’

But the fact she’d been late had really grated on him. He didn’t have to tell her
that.

He kissed her lightly. ‘I’ll walk you to your door.’

‘Sean, it’s half a dozen paces. I think I’m old enough to manage.’

He spread his hands. ‘As you wish.’

‘I’m not pushing you away,’ she said softly. ‘But I don’t need protecting—the same as you don’t.’ She already had one overprotective male in her life, and that was more than enough for her. And it was half the reason
why she’d always chosen free-spirited boyfriends who wouldn’t make a fuss over everything or smother her.

Though maybe she’d gone too far the other way, because they’d all been disastrous.

But could Sean compromise? Could they find some kind of middle ground between them? If not, then this was going to be just as much a disaster as her previous relationships.

‘Thank you for caring,’
she said, knowing that his heart was in the right place—he just went a bit too far, that was all. ‘I’ll see you Sunday.’

‘Spontaneous. Go with the flow.’

‘You’re learning.
Carpe diem
,’ she said with a smile, and kissed him. ‘Goodnight.’

CHAPTER NINE

W
HEN
C
LAIRE
WENT
to pick Sean up on Sunday morning he was wearing formal trousers, a formal shirt and a tie. At least this time it wasn’t a complete suit, but it still didn’t work for what she wanted to do. And they looked totally mismatched, given that Claire was wearing denim shorts, a strappy vest and matching canvas shoes. Sean looked way too formal.

‘Do you
actually own a pair of jeans?’ she asked.

‘No.’

It was just as well she’d second-guessed. ‘Right, then.’ She delved into her tote bag and brought out a plastic carrier bag bearing the name of a department store.

‘What’s this?’ he asked.

‘Pressie. For you.’ When he still looked blank, she added, ‘The idea is that you wear it. As in right now.’

He looked in the bag. ‘You
bought me a pair of jeans?’

‘Give the monkey a peanut,’ she drawled.

‘How do you know my size?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I measured you for a wedding suit, remember?’

He sighed. ‘Claire, you didn’t need to buy me a pair of jeans.’

‘You don’t own any. So actually, yes, I did.’

He looked at her, and she sighed. ‘Sean, don’t be difficult about this. I bought you a present,
that’s all. It’s what people do when they date.’

He still didn’t look convinced.

‘Look, you bought me those gorgeous flowers, and I don’t think you’d enjoy it if I bought you flowers—well, not that I think you
can’t
buy a man flowers,’ she clarified, ‘but I don’t think you’re the kind of man who’d really appreciate them.’

‘Probably not,’ he admitted.

‘Most people would buy
their man some chocolate, but I can hardly give chocolate to someone who owns a confectionery company, can I? Which leaves me pretty stuck for buying you a gift. It’s just an ordinary pair of jeans, Sean. Nothing ridiculously overpriced. So come on. Do something you haven’t done since you were a teenager,’ she coaxed, ‘and wear the jeans. And swap those shoes for your running shoes.’

‘My
running shoes?’ he queried.

She nodded. ‘Because I bet you don’t have a pair of scruffy, “go for a walk and it doesn’t matter if they’re not perfectly polished” shoes.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with looking smart at work,’ he protested.

‘I know, but you’re not at work today, Sean. You’re playing. You can keep the shirt, but lose the tie.’

‘Bossy,’ he grumbled, but he did as she
asked. By the time he’d changed into the jeans and his running shoes, he looked fantastic—much more approachable.
Touchable.
Claire was glad she’d picked a light-coloured denim that looked slightly worn. It really, really suited him.

She folded her arms and looked at him.

‘What now?’ he asked. ‘I’m not wearing the tie.’

‘But your top button is still done up. Fix it, and roll your
sleeves up.’

‘Claire...’

‘We did your date your way,’ she said. ‘And you agreed that we’d do this one my way.’

‘This is the giddy limit,’ he said, and for a moment she thought he was going to refuse; but finally he indulged her.

‘That’s almost perfect,’ she said, then sashayed over to him, reached up to kiss him, and then messed up his hair.

‘Why did you do that?’ he asked,
pulling back.

‘It’s the “just got out of bed” look. Which makes you look seriously hot,’ she added. ‘Like you did in Capri.’

He gave her a predatory smile. ‘So if you think I look hot...’

‘Rain check,’ she said. ‘Because we’re going out and having fun, first.’

* * *

There was a bossy side to Claire, Sean thought, that he’d never seen before. The whole idea of giving up
control—that just wasn’t how he did things.

Claire Stewart was dangerous with a capital D where his peace of mind was concerned.

‘This is your car?’ He looked at the bright pink convertible Mini stencilled with daisies that was parked on the road outside his house. ‘Oh, you are kidding me.’

‘What’s wrong with my car?’ She put her finger into the keyring and spun her keys round.

What was wrong with the car? Where did he start?

He closed his eyes. ‘OK. I know, I know, go with the flow.’ He groaned and opened his eyes again. ‘But, Claire.
Pink.
With daisies. Really?’

Finally she took pity on him. ‘I borrowed it from a friend. I don’t have a car of my own at the moment.’

‘Then we could go wherever it is in mine,’ he suggested hopefully.

‘Nope—we’re
doing this my way.’ She gave him another of those insolent grins. ‘Actually, my friend wants to sell this. I was thinking about buying it from her.’

He pulled a face, but said nothing.

‘Very wise, Sean, very wise,’ she teased.

She tied her hair back with a scarf, added some dark glasses that made her look incredibly sexy, and then added the disgusting khaki cap he remembered from
Capri and which cancelled out the effect of the glasses. Once they were sitting in the car, she put the roof down, connected her MP3 player, and started blasting out sugary nineteen-sixties pop songs. Worse still, she made him sing along; and Sean was surprised to discover that he actually knew most of the songs.

By the time they got to Brighton, he’d stopped being embarrassed by the sheer
loudness of the car and was word-perfect on the choruses of all her favourite songs.

‘Brighton,’ he said.

‘Absolutely. Today is “Sean and Claire do the seaside”,’ she said brightly.

‘And this isn’t planned out?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be daft—you don’t plan things like going to the seaside. You go with the flow and you have
fun
.’ She parked the car, then took his hand
and they strolled across to the seafront.

This was so far removed from what he’d normally do on a Sunday. He might sit in his garden—perfectly manicured by the man he paid to mow the lawn, weed the flower beds, and generally make the area look tidy—but nine times out of ten he’d be in his study, working. He couldn’t even remember the last time he went to the seaside. With one of his girlfriends,
probably, but he hadn’t paid much attention.

But with Claire, he was definitely paying attention.

He hung back slightly. ‘Those are very
short
shorts.’ And it made him want to touch her.

She just laughed. ‘I have great legs—I might as well show them off before they go all wrinkly and saggy when I’m old.’

‘You’re...’ He stopped and shook his head.

‘I’m what, Sean?’

‘A lot of things,’ he said, ‘half of which I wouldn’t dare utter right now.’

‘Chicken,’ she teased.

‘Discretion’s the better part of valour,’ he protested.

She laughed and took him onto the pier. They queued up to go on the fairground rides.

‘You couldn’t get fast-track tickets?’ he asked.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Queuing is part of the fun.’

‘How?’ he asked. In his view,
queuing was a waste of time. If something was worth visiting, you bought fast-track tickets; otherwise, you didn’t bother and you used your time more wisely.

‘Anticipation,’ she said. ‘It’ll be worth the wait.’

He wasn’t so sure, but he’d agreed to do this her way. ‘OK.’

But then they queued for the roller coaster.

‘I thought you hated heights?’

‘I do, but it’ll be worth
it if it loosens you up a little,’ she said. ‘It’s OK to stop and smell the roses, Sean. If anything it’ll enrich the time you spend on your business, because you’ll look at things with a wider perspective.’

‘Playing the business guru now, are you?’

‘I don’t play when it comes to business,’ she said, ‘but I do remember to play in my free time.’

‘Hmm.’

He wasn’t that fussed
about the thrill rides, but for her sake he pretended to enjoy himself.

They grabbed something quick to eat, then went over to the stony, steeply sloping beach next. The sea was such an intense shade of turquoise, they could have been standing on the shore of the Mediterranean rather than the English Channel. He’d never seen the sea in England look so blue. And this, he thought, was much
more his style than waiting in a queue for a short thrill ride that did nothing to raise his pulse.

Claire, on the other hand, could seriously raise his pulse...

‘Shoes off,’ she said, removing her own canvas shoes, ‘and roll up your jeans.’

‘You’re so bossy,’ he grumbled.

She grinned. ‘The reward will be worth it.’

‘What reward?’

She fluttered her eyelashes at him.
‘Wait and see.’

He had to admit that it was nice walking on the edge of the sea with her, his shoes in one hand and her hand in his other. The sound of the waves rushing onto the pebbles and the seagulls squawking, the scent of the sea air and the warmth of the sunlight on his skin. Right at that moment, he’d never felt more alive.

It must have shown in his face, because she said softly,
‘Told you it was rewarding.’

‘Uh-huh.’ He smiled at her. ‘Talking of rewards...’ He leaned forward and kissed her. But what started out as a sweet, soft brush of her lips against his soon turned hot.

He pulled back, remembering that they were in a public place and with families around them. ‘Claire. We need to...’

‘I know.’ Her fingers tightened round his. ‘And this was what I wanted
today. For you to let go, just a little bit, and have some fun with me.’

‘I
am
having fun,’ he said, half surprised by the admission.

‘Good.’ Her face had gone all soft and dreamy and it made him want to kiss her again—later, he promised himself.

When they’d finished paddling, they had to walk on the pebbles to dry off—Claire clearly hadn’t thought to bring a towel with her—and
then she said, ‘Time for afternoon tea. And I have somewhere really special in mind.’

‘OK.’ He didn’t mind going with the flow for a while, especially as it meant holding her hand. There was something to be said about just wandering along together.

As they walked into the town, he could see the exotic domes and spires of Brighton Pavilion.

Another queue, he thought with a sigh.
It was one of the biggest tourist attractions in the area. Again, if she’d planned it they could’ve bought tickets online rather than having to queue up. He hated wasting time like this.

But, when they got closer, he realised there was something odd. No queues.

A notice outside the Pavilion informed them that the building was closed for urgent maintenance. Just for this weekend.

Sean just about stopped himself pointing out that if Claire had planned their trip in advance, then she would’ve known about this and she wouldn’t have been disappointed.

‘Oh, well,’ she said brightly. ‘I’m sure we can find a nice tea shop somewhere and have a traditional cream tea.’

Except all the tea shops nearby were full of tourists who’d had exactly the same idea. There were queues.

‘Sorry. This is, um, a bit of a disaster,’ she said.

Yes. But he wasn’t going to make her feel any worse about it by agreeing with her.
‘Carpe diem,’
he said. ‘Maybe there’s an ice cream shop we can go to instead.’

‘Maybe,’ she said, though he could tell that she was really disappointed. He guessed that she’d wanted to share the gorgeous furnishings of the Pavilion with him—and there
had probably been some kind of costume display, too.

They wandered through the historic part of the town, peeking in the windows of the antiques shops and little craft shops, and eventually found a tea shop that had room at one of the tables. Though as it was late afternoon, the tea shop had run out of scones and cream.

‘Just the tea is fine, thanks,’ Sean said with a smile.

They
had a last walk along the beach, then Claire drove them home. ‘Shall I drop you back at your house, or would you like to come back to my place and we can maybe order in some Chinese food?’ she asked.

Given what she’d said to him by the sea, Sean knew what she wanted to hear. ‘I think,’ he said, ‘we’ll go with the flow.’

Her smile was a real reward—full of warmth and pleasure rather than
smugness. ‘We won’t go home on the motorway, then,’ she said. ‘We’ll find a nice little country pub where we can have dinner.’

Except it turned out that every pub they stopped at didn’t do food on Sunday evenings.

‘I can’t believe this,’ she said. ‘I mean—it’s the summer. Prime tourist season. Why on earth wouldn’t any of them serve food on Sunday evenings?’

Sean didn’t have the
heart to ask why she hadn’t planned it better. ‘Go back on to the motorway,’ he said. ‘We’ll get a takeaway back in London.’

‘I’m so sorry. Still, at least we can keep the roof down and enjoy the sun on the way home,’ Claire said.

Which was clearly all she needed to say to jinx it, because they were caught in a sudden downpour. By the time she’d found somewhere safe to stop and put the
car’s soft top back up, they were both drenched. ‘I’m so sorry. That wasn’t supposed to happen,’ Claire said, biting her lip.

‘So we were literally going with the flow. Of water,’ Sean said, and kissed her.

‘What was that for?’ she asked.

‘For admitting that you’re not always right.’ He stole another kiss. ‘And also because that T-shirt looks amazing on you right now.’

‘Because
it’s wet, you mean?’ She rolled her eyes at him. ‘Men.’

He smiled. ‘Actually, I wanted to cheer you up a bit.’

‘Because today’s been a total disaster.’

‘No, it hasn’t. I enjoyed the sea.’

‘But we didn’t get to the Pavilion, we missed out on a cream tea, I couldn’t find anywhere for dinner and we just got drenched.’ She sighed. ‘If I’d done things your way, it would’ve been
different.’

‘But when I planned our date, we ended up rushing and that was a disaster, too,’ he said softly. ‘I think we might both have learned something from this.’

‘That sometimes you need to plan your personal life?’ she asked.

‘And sometimes you need to go with the flow,’ he said. ‘It’s a matter of compromise.’

‘That works for me, too. Compromise.’ And her smile warmed
him all the way through.