Winter's End (15 page)

Emma smiled back and
introduced Ethan to her friends. “I’m having a kind of situation crisis,” she
explained to Ethan.

“I heard,” he
replied.

“I’m sorry,” she
blushed. “Were we too loud about it?”

“No,” he said. “I
just couldn’t help taking my eyes off you the moment I saw you.”

“You were
deliberately eavesdropping!” she exclaimed in a giggle.

The women sighed,
charmed by his suavity.

“Eavesdrop on me
darling, any day,” said Grace, mesmerised.

Ethan smiled and
turned to Emma. “I could take you back to
Breakish
tonight if you want. But I’m also renting a cottage here in
Dunvegan
.
You could always stay and I could take you back to
Breakish
tomorrow. I would love to show you that Fairy Flag we talked about earlier. But
it’s your call. I’m just going to be a gentleman and obediently follow whatever
you decide.”

Emma flustered, looked
over at Lisa for some support.

“I’m sure Bill and
Lisa here would love to continue with their romantic date,” he said, noticing.

“It’s your choice,”
said Lisa, assuredly.

Emma grew quiet,
weighing her now attractive option. She wanted to return home and no matter how
much she wanted to say that she did, she felt it would be selfish of her to
make such a request. She also was already feeling guilty of barging into Lisa’s
romantic evening with her husband which she knew Lisa often couldn’t afford.

She looked up at Ethan.
He was watching her patiently. She believed she could trust him, despite what
Chris Cameron had said.

But before she could
answer, she felt someone clutch her palm tightly as she was dragged through the
dance hall.

She heard chairs
grate the floor as the men at her table stood abruptly to confront her
abductor. She heard Lisa’s muffled voice. She didn’t understand what she said
but she could guess what it was when she also heard Grace exclaim behind her.
“That’s her date?! Chris Cameron?!”

*****

They exited the hall,
entering the lobby of the hotel. She pulled her hand angrily away from him,
almost tripping herself backwards as she did.

“I swear, you try
dragging me one more time and I will hit you were it hurts,” she shouted out,
angrily.

“I told you to stay
away from Ethan Wells,” he said, his enraged eyes clashing with hers.

“And why should I
listen to you?” she said, straightening her dress. She forcibly lowered her
voice, paying attention to the curious looks she was getting around her. They
must be wondering she was such an unappreciative twit. She wished she could
tell them who the real Chris Cameron was. “From what you have shown me, you’re
not quite credible either.”

He glared at her, his
inflamed eyes almost boring a hole into her soul.

She glared back at
him stubbornly, holding her ground. Inside, she was trembling from the
exhaustive emotions he had put her through in a single night.

But then he backed
down silently and walked away to the reception. She watched the attendant hand him
over a key card.

She stamped
nervously, undecided to what she should do next. Half-embarrassed from his
behaviour, she tried to convince herself she shouldn’t be. Maybe she should
march back inside and take Ethan’s offer. She hoped though there still was one.

“Well, are you
coming?” said Chris.

Her heart lifted,
hopefully. “You’re going home?”

“No,” he replied
bluntly. “But I do have a room. It’s big enough for the both of us.”

“I am certainly not
sharing a room with you,” she said, firmly.

“But you are happy to
share one with Ethan Wells,” anger returning to his voice.

“He has a cottage.
There’s a difference.”

“I don’t care if he
has reserved the entire
Dunvegan
Castle for the
night,” he said threateningly, edging closer. “You’re not staying with him and
you’re certainly not taking that ride back home with him.”

She grew quiet once
more. How could he do this to her? He didn’t want to be with her and she accepted
it. She even had worked out her problems with Ethan Wells.

But there was also
Ethel she needed to speak to. And she didn’t want to jeopardise her friendship
with her. Not after all these years when she almost felt like finally she had
got her own grandmother back. And the children also loved her…

“I won’t hear a no,”
he added, sternly. “Either you step into that elevator at your own free will or
I carry you into it.”

Emma gave him an
incensed glance before marching through the elevator doors. She said a short
silent prayer composed of vulgarities she would never normally mouth in the
hope that she would not fulfil her urge to kill him tonight.

*****

It wasn’t an overtly
small bedroom but it wasn’t large either. It was certainly not luxurious. It
was comprised of simple, basic amenities. Two arm chairs graced the ends of a
large bay window which overlooked the dark ocean. A dresser stood at one end of
the wall and the double bed took prime precedence in the middle of it.

“It’s small,” Emma
uttered before she could prevent the words from escaping her lips.

“I’m sorry,” Chris
replied sarcastically. “Had I known earlier you had not booked yourself a room,
I would have requested a larger one.”

Her cheeks coloured.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I didn’t expect for you to
have reserved such a humble room.” She bit her lips. She was making a greater
mess of her thoughts. She reminded herself to shut up. All she needed from this
man was to help her get through the night.

“You think just
because I’m a celebrity, I would be travelling with an entourage and spoiling
myself with luxury.”

“No, I never said
that,” she snapped.

“But you thought
that,” he said, his mouth drawn into a thin line.

He turned his back to
her and took off his blazer, hanging it onto a wooden coat tree. He began
pulling off his tee-shirt.

She stepped back,
slightly bewildered. “What are you doing?”

“Taking my clothes
off. I don’t intend to go to bed fully dressed even if you do,” he said. He
pulled out his pants and headed to the shower as he did.

She heard him turn on
the shower and flushed when she imagined the water running down his naked body.
She hastily turned to her circumstances and reminded herself there were other
pressing matters at hand. Like where they should sleep? How would she sleep?
She looked down at her dress and wished for the first time since buying it, she
had not worn something so revealing. She wished she had worn her old and
comfortable dress pants instead. She searched the cupboards for a house coat
but there was none. This wasn’t a five star hotel, it was an inn, she grumbled
to herself. All there was available was a large towel which she definitely
could not wear to bed.

Bed? She studied the
bed in deep thought wondering if Chris Cameron would demonstrate at least one
gentlemanly conduct before the night ended. She promised herself that if he did,
she would forgive him for all his arrogant, vile behaviour as well.

She heard him turn
off the shower. He stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped at his
waist. She turned away, embarrassed, fiddling with the edges of the flat sheet
on the bed.

“Well, aren’t you
going to bed?” he said curiously.

“Where are you
sleeping?”

“That bed’s made for
two people. I’m certain we can both fit into it, if we try.”

“I’m not sharing a
bed with you,” she said, firmly.

His eyes scanned the
room. “I don’t see where else you can sleep. But then that’s your choice.”

She began to fume.
“What are you! You can’t even offer your bed to a lady?”

Chris flung her an
icy look filled with disdain and impatience. “Listen, woman, I got off a plane
not too long ago only to be told by my grandmother that I had to escort you to
a silly dance. I’m tired. And with that scowl you’ve been carrying, I’m exhausted.
Frankly, I don’t see what the big deal is about sharing a bed. I thought you
had two kids. You can’t be that naive. It's not like you’re a
friggin
’ virgin or something. Besides, I have no intention
of seducing you even if I was ordered by the High Queen of
Breakish
,
herself.”

Emma, blinked,
stunned and frozen with disbelief. She didn’t know what she was more greatly
offended with. That he was telling her to share a bed with her or he wouldn’t
seduce her.

Her hands grabbed at
the flat sheet and pulled it off the bed. Bundling it into a messy, chaotic
ball, she stomped off into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Muttering a string of
vulgarities for the second time that night, she stripped off her clothes. What
she needed was a warm shower to wash away the tight knots in her body. She
stood under the running water for a while, enjoying the feel of it ease her
tension.

She then towelled
herself dry and pulled back her panties on. She caught her naked reflection in
the bathroom mirror and paused, self-appraising her body. Her breasts were not
as full and firm as they used to be before she had her children. Her waist also
showed signs of childbirth. In addition, she still carried the caesarean scar
from Hannah’s birth. She sighed sadly.

She
manoevered
the flat sheet lengthwise and wrapped it skilfully
around her like a sarong, transforming it into a white, draped dress. She assessed
her handiwork in the mirror. Her cowl neckline sat at her breasts. The knot on
her side only managed to hide what was necessary. The rest fell into a
seductive side slit down her legs. She sighed sadly. If she was carefully, she
might just be able to manage with it, she thought.

She opened the
bathroom door. The bedroom was already in darkness. Chris had turned out all
the lights and slipped into bed. She could only make out his dark outline under
the covers. She stalled for a while at the door wondering what to do. The room
was quite warm from the air conditioning so she might not need any covers for the
night. She pushed the two arm chairs together to create a makeshift long chair.
She then crept softly to the bed and pulled away a pillow. Turning off the
bathroom light, she thankfully stepped into her small, cramped makeshift long chair.
Exhausted, she hardly felt the discomfort and soon drifted into a pleasant,
deep sleep.

*****

Chris tossed and
turned in his bed. His mind kept drifting to the woman who lay a few paces from
him. A woman who refused to share his bed. Baffled, he sat up a little and
watched her figure in the darkness. He had expected her to give up on her
supposed tantrum and join him in his bed. But her breaths told him that she was
already asleep.

She was strange.
Unlike any woman he had ever known. When he had seen her with Ethan Wells, he
was seething with fury. And it wasn’t jealousy. He knew jealousy. This was an
unfamiliar spewing rage that
 
scalded his
mind each time he thought of it. He hated that this woman could have such a
weakening effect on him.

Then she had stepped
out of the bathroom draped in his flat sheet. He had never seen a flat sheet
look so seductive on a woman. She had attempted to do her best at decency but
she clearly had no inkling that the light in the bathroom had made her even
more sensuous. Her flowery scent from her shower titillated his senses as she
had crept closer to his bed. He had half-hoped she would step under the covers and
beside him. He was surprisingly disappointed when she didn’t, opting instead
for the un-comely armchairs.

He tried to brush
away his prurient thoughts of her. His hand reached to the bedside table for
his phone and instead knocked it onto the floor. He turned the side lamp on,
hoping the light would not awaken her. Stepping out of bed, he picked up his
phone. As he rose, his eyes fell on her sleeping form . He walked to her side
and assayed her for a while. Her back was exposed, revealing her fair skin. The
slit of her temporary sarong had done nothing to help her. Instead it had
loosened, graciously revealing the soft alluring sides of her breast and her
long, trim legs. Her long auburn hair fell haphazardly over an arm of the
chair, giving her an image of the seductive Celtic goddess,
Aeval
,
Lady of Sexuality, enchanting him to do as she bade.
 
The damp tendrils of her hair fell over her
face and he was almost tempted to brush them away, so he could see her lips. Instead,
his eyes lowered to her waist. The scar at her abdomen enraptured him. He
reached out and lightly caressed its callus tissues with his finger tips. His
thumb accidently brushed the soft flesh of her slim waist, tingling his
synapses. She moved slightly and he stilled.

He stepped back,
feeling guilty. Removing the comforter off his bed, he draped it gently over
her. He had misjudged her. She was far too serpentine than he had assumed. She
was unfurling a heat within him and if he wasn’t too careful, she’d burn him.