Third Time Lucky (4 page)

‘Hello-oo, Earth to Lauren.’ Emma grins at me. ‘You were on another planet.’

‘It’s happening a lot lately. Hey, I think this is Immy’s street.’

The
driver slows down and finally stops outside Immy’s apartment block. While I’m paying him, the front door opens and Immy runs down the steps to the kerb.

‘Hello! I’ve been waiting for you. You poor things, you must be knackered!’ Immy hugs me.

‘Just a little,’ I say.

‘Hi, Emma. How are you?’

Immy hugs Emma too, and she doesn’t seem to mind. ‘OK, though I almost barfed in the cab.’

‘Poor you. Come on up and I’ll make you a drink. I’ve got most things.’

Immy takes Emma’s bag and we follow her upstairs, Emma giving the apartment the once-over. It’s a bohemian place, with original modern art on the walls, what my mother would call an ‘eclectic’ mix of furniture, and Chinese rugs covering the floorboards. I think it will appeal to Emma’s arty side. She seems pleased to be here and I can tell Immy’s trying to be super helpful.

‘Shall I show you to your room, and then I’ll make us all a drink?’

‘Thanks.’

Immy opens a door off the hallway. ‘Will you be OK in here? It’s only a box room really, but there’s a put-up bed and I thought you’d rather have your own room. I know it’s not Falconbury …’

‘It’s great,’ says Emma, walking inside. ‘I only have a small bedroom at school and I’m so happy you can have us to stay. It wouldn’t be nearly as much fun in
some stuffy hotel Are you sure your parents won’t mind?’

‘Not at all. They said you can stay as long as you like. My mother was at school with yours, you know.’

‘Oh, I didn’t know that. Do you think she might have some stories about Mummy?’

It strikes me that Emma was only a little girl when Lady Hunt died so she must be desperate to hear other people’s memories of her.

‘I’ll ask her.’ Immy smiles, her face softening. ‘Why not leave your bag in here. Have you got everything you need? I can lend you some pyjamas and a toothbrush if you like. We keep spares in the cupboard or we can nip out to the Waitrose on the corner. They have most things.’

‘Helen made me throw a few things into a bag, but I haven’t got enough stuff for a week,’ says Emma.

‘Do you think Alexander will be in hospital that long?’ says Immy, betraying the first faint signs of alarm that she may be playing host to Emma for longer than she’d planned.

‘I think they need to make sure he’s out of danger and start a course of treatment and physio, according to the doctor.’

‘Of course. Well, look, if you’re here for long, we could go shopping for new things,’ she says to Emma.

‘Cool. I was going to have Brandon fetch my stuff from Falconbury but buying new would be a lot nicer than having Helen rifle through my knicker drawer, much as I love her.’

So,
the prospect of shopping has cheered Emma up and I don’t blame her; we could all use a little light relief.

‘You two must be starving. Is pizza OK? I can order some in or we can get Chinese, Thai or Indian?’

‘Any of those,’ says Emma. While Immy makes us a coffee, and Emma admires the artwork, apparently delighted to be here despite the circumstances, I’m just wishing I could feel the same.

A few days later, I’m back at the hospital. Immy has tactfully taken Emma shopping in the West End to give me some private time with Alexander. While his face is still swollen and bruised, I’m relieved to find him awake. I grab a sneaky look through his window to see him flicking though the TV channels with his good arm, a scowl of disgust on his face. When I enter the room, he drops the remote on the covers and rolls his eyes.

‘Do people really watch this crap?’

‘Glad to see you’re feeling better.’ I grin.

He grunts, then manages a smile. ‘Are you about to make me feel worse?’

‘I don’t know.’ I take a chair by his bed. ‘So, if it’s not a stupid question, how are you today? You look more like your old self.’

‘I’m not sure that’s a good thing. I’ve seen myself in the mirror and now they’ve cut down my ration of happy juice, I do feel like I’ve been run over by a tank.’
He winces as he pushes himself gingerly up the pillows.

‘You have some spectacular bruises …’ What I’m really focused on, though, is that he has spectacular pecs – he’s sitting up bare-chested, partly because the hospital room is warm but mainly as it’s difficult to get a gown on him because his arm is so heavily bandaged.

He glances down at the mottled pattern on his chest with some pride. ‘Are you impressed?’

‘You should know by now that nothing about you impresses me,’ I say coolly.

‘Mmm, and yet you’re paying a lot of attention to my body.’

‘It’s horrified fascination,’ I say at least partly truthfully and rest my fingertips on an especially colourful cloud-shaped bruise. ‘How did you get these?’

‘I really can’t remember much about it.’

I glance up into his face. ‘Bullshit.’

‘It’s the only bullshit you’re going to get.’

I press lightly in the centre of the bruise but he doesn’t even flinch. Did I want him to? I’m not sure.

He takes my hand from his chest but keeps hold of it. ‘I tell you what, give me a kiss and I may tell you a little more.’

Leaning forward, he pulls me towards him.

‘I’ll hurt you,’ I whisper, half out of my chair already.

‘I don’t give a toss.’

With
his good hand, he pulls me closer, until I’m standing, leaning over him. ‘Come here.’

‘I shouldn’t. The nurses …’

‘In the nicest possible way, screw the nurses. Come closer. I’d make you, if it wasn’t for my bloody arm.’

A few days ago, I thought I’d never be this close to him again. I’d steeled myself not to feel like this: fizzing with desire for him, aching for the feel of his body against mine.

I put my arms around his waist, terrified of hurting his damaged shoulder and hearing him cry out in pain, but the only sound he makes is a sigh when he kisses me, like he’s been starved of food for a million years. His lips are dry and the stubble on his chin rasps my skin but this kiss is amazing; I never want it to end. I push my tongue inside his mouth, desperate to be deep inside him and taste every part of him. I pull him closer to me.

‘Ow!’ He winces and I pull back.

‘God, I’m sorry!’

His grimace of pain turns into a sort of smile. ‘It’s OK. This arm is a pain in the arse.’

‘I knew we shouldn’t have done that. I forgot about the wound.’ I’m standing up now, away from the bed.

He snatches my hand in his. ‘Sit down and shut up. I don’t want to be treated like glass.’

‘You should be careful, just for a little while at least.’

‘I can be careful when I’m dead, and I won’t let something like this stop me from doing what I want.
Now come back here or I’ll call the nurse and tell her you’ve been treating me with unnecessary cruelty.’

‘What? You … You’re the one who …’

He curls his finger. ‘Come here, Ms Cusack, before I scream for help.’

I laugh. ‘I’d like to see that.’

He opens his mouth wide as if to shout.

I fold my arms. ‘Do I look scared?’

‘Help, Lauren won’t give me what I need.’ His voice ramps up a notch. ‘She’s abusing a war hero!’

‘Alexander! Shhhh.’

‘Not until you kiss me again,’ he taunts, making me want to hit him and leap on him. I glance at the window, half expecting to see a face peering in at us with a disapproving frown.

‘Well?’

I put my finger on his lips. ‘Only if you behave.’

He opens his lips and tilts his head forward a little, drawing my finger into his mouth. I keep it there as he circles my fingertip with his tongue. His lips are hot and tight around my finger as he sucks it in deeper. He closes his eyes and I close mine, blocking out reality, just enjoying the sensation of his tongue making gentle circles around my finger.

I sigh in delight as he runs his tongue from base to tip, licking my finger as if it’s a Popsicle. The pressure of his mouth around my flesh forces me to press my thighs together to try and assuage the ache between them. After a few delicate flicks of his tongue, he opens
his mouth, releases me and lowers my hand to the sheet. What he’s doing appears innocent yet is every bit as erotic as if I were lying naked with him above me.

My finger glistens with moisture in the sunlight.

‘That’s how it feels,’ he says, his voice low and gravelly, ‘to be inside you. So tight, so wet. I want that right now.’

‘The nurses might have something to say about that.’ I’m still coming down from the sensation and, quite frankly, struggling to breathe.

‘Possibly, but if they weren’t here, do you know what I’d make you do?’

Even the question sends a bolt of lust right through me. ‘No, but I’ve a feeling you’re going to tell me.’

‘And I’ve a feeling you’re desperate to know, aren’t you?’

The way he has me squirming in front of him, I can hardly deny it.

‘
Aren’t
you, Lauren?’

‘Yes!’

‘If I thought no one would walk in, I’d make you take off that top right now and show me your amazing breasts.’ He gives me a smile so hot it could strip paint at a hundred yards. ‘And I know you’re not wearing a bra today because I can tell.’

On cue, my nipples stand to attention under the cotton of my top.

He tuts. ‘Bad girl, Ms Cusack.’

‘I
thought you deserved a treat after what you’ve been through. Now I’m not so sure.’

‘I do deserve a treat, I’ve had a traumatic time. Do you want to know what I’d make you do next?’

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say ‘no’ and walk out but I’m enjoying the teasing way too much. ‘Get it off your chest if you really need to,’ I say, while my body thrums with desire.

‘I’d lie here and watch while you shimmied out of that mini skirt and stood in front of me in your thigh-highs.’

‘How do you know I’m wearing thigh-highs today? You can’t possibly tell for certain from there.’

‘Because you always wear them with that mini and you know how much I love them.’

‘That was
before
.’ I can’t resist reminding him – and myself – that the reasons for our break-up remain unresolved, no matter what has happened since.

‘And this is now and you’re here. Don’t try and change the subject. You are wearing thigh-highs, aren’t you, Lauren?

‘Yes, damn you, of course I am.’

He sighs in satisfaction. ‘I knew it. So, after you’d taken your skirt down, I’d watch while you pulled down your rather lovely Victoria’s Secret knickers right in front of my face.’ He grins. ‘Very,
very
slowly.’

I’m almost panting. I’m definitely trembling. ‘I’m in La Perla today …’ I murmur, nudging my bottom a
little further on to the bed until it’s butting against his thigh.

‘Knickers wet, are they?’ he says, his eyes burning into me. ‘I hope so, because I’d love to lie back and savour the sight of you with them around your ankles and imagine how wet and ripe for me you are.’

Now I really can hardly breathe. All I can do is keep my eyes on his, and eventually I manage to whisper,‘You are a disgrace to your uniform …’

‘And you’re as sexy and ready for me as ever.’

I glance down to find my hand pressed against the front of my skirt and pull it away.

He tuts again and says, ‘Nice to see you feel the same way as I do. Go on, look what you’ve done to me.’ He rests his hand over the bulge in the sheet around his thighs.

‘What? I daren’t.’

‘There’s no one watching. Touch me.’

After a quick check of the window to make certain no one’s watching, I slide my hand under the cover and down the front of the boxer shorts he’s wearing. He’s hard and hot and it feels amazing to have his firm, silky flesh under my fingers again.

He closes his eyes as I cup him in my hand.

‘Alexander, we can’t do this in here.’

He opens his eyes. ‘You have to. I’ve dreamed about this for almost two weeks.’

I stifle a giggle that’s a combination of amusement, lust and nerves.

‘This is therapy. Don’t stop now you’ve started.’

His
pleading voice is so sexy that I can’t resist. ‘
Please,
’ I add.

‘
Please
, Ms Cusack, I’m desperate.’

‘That’s better.’ I circle him with my fingers and slide them up and down. He arches his pelvis and moans. ‘That is so good. I’d forgotten how amazing you are. Oh fuck …’

I’m not sure if it’s a sixth sense or my hyper-awareness of any sound or just good luck, but I snatch my hand out of his shorts and from under the bedclothes just as the door starts to open.

By the time the nurse backs into the room, pulling a drugs trolley, I’m fumbling in my handbag and Alexander is lying back on the pillow looking like the sky has fallen in on him.

The nurse swivels the trolley round and tosses us a smile. ‘Everything all right? I’ve come to give Captain Hunt his medication.’

I stand up, my fingers burning, and I know I must look as guilty as sin. ‘Yes, fine. I was about to leave.’

‘There’s no need. You can stay if you like.’

My face is on fire.

‘No, it’s fine. I need to get back to Emma. I’ll come back tomorrow.’

She smiles at Alexander. ‘So Captain Hunt, how are we feeling today?’

He sighs. ‘I was feeling much better but now I’m a little deflated, to be honest. Maybe the shock of the stabbing is beginning to hit me.’

Behind
the nurse’s back, I mouth: ‘You are unbelievable,’ before scurrying to the safety of the hospital corridor. For all the embarrassment of nearly being caught in a compromising position with Alexander, I feel massive relief that he’s back to his wicked maddening ways. Now all I have to do is sort out the mess between us – if I decide I even want to.