Authors: Robyn Grady
‘If
you walk me to the door,’ she said, ‘you’ll kiss me and, before I know it, I’ll
be tugging you inside. We both need some sleep.’
His
brow furrowed and a muscle in his jaw flexed twice but finally he nodded and
knocked on the glass partition, signalling the driver to collect her luggage
and open her door.
‘Thank
you for a wonderful weekend,’ she said, her heart so full she thought it might
burst.
‘We’ll
do it again soon.’
But
he didn’t mention specifics … didn’t mention the wedding … and after an
all-too-brief kiss goodnight, the driver opened her door and carried her
luggage to the building entrance. She let herself in, heard the purr of the
limo’s engine as it pulled out from the curb, then she gazed down again at the
pearl charm in her hand. If not for this, she might think it was all some
fantastic dream.
Feeling
so churned up inside, she held her stomach. Before this weekend she’d known
Alex was scorching. Now she found his company positively irresistible and for
way more reasons than his looks and his charm. Everything she’d learned about
him … everything she’d confessed about herself …
Alex
Wolfe was a complex person. A world-renowned celebrity. A man who had helped
her face some fierce, long-held fears. He was more than any woman could hope
for and Libby simply couldn’t deny it any longer.
She
was falling in love.
THE
next morning, Libby dragged herself into her office. She felt groggy. Not
surprising given her lack of sleep the night before. After tossing and turning
till dawn, in hindsight, it might have been easier if Alex
had
walked her to the door. At least she wouldn’t have woken up
lonely.
Instead
she’d placed the pearl charm on her bedside table and had lain awake watching
the imitation jewels sparkle in the moonlight while going over every moment of
her amazing weekend with Alex Wolfe … her client. Her lover.
The
superstar sportsman with the shoulder she’d agreed to put through a thorough
examination two days from now.
If
she found him unfit to drive, Alex had said he’d take her to that family
wedding. But he hadn’t mentioned it last night when he’d dropped her home. He
was banking on his injury passing her assessment. And if she found his joint
needed more time to heal … The former athlete in her said he wouldn’t take the
news well.
But
she couldn’t give him a green light simply to make him happy, she told herself,
crossing her office’s reception area. And if he was half the man she’d come to
believe him to be, even if he were unhappy, Alex would understand her position.
He might be upset with the situation but he wouldn’t be angry. At least, not
with her.
Behind
her desk, Payton glanced up. Her mouth rounded before she dropped her head and
disappeared behind the counter’s top lip.
Libby
looked around. Had she missed something?
‘Payton
… everything all right?’
Peering
back over the counter, Payton gave a coy look. ‘How was your, uh, weekend?’
‘My
weekend
?’ Libby’s stomach
flip-flopped twice. ‘How did you know—?’
Then
she saw a celebrity magazine open on the desk and the half-page shot of her and
Alex checking in at the casino Saturday afternoon. All her strength funnelled
through her middle and out her toes. Baby-fawn weak, she let the counter help
hold her up while she croaked out, ‘Is that the only picture?’
‘In
this
magazine. There was another one
out on Friday.’
From
her desk’s top drawer, Payton slid out another magazine, folded to a page, to a
snap, of Alex and some unidentifiable female he was kissing in the entrance of
an apartment block.
Looking
uncomfortable, Payton wriggled back in her seat. ‘I’m guessing the woman Alex
Wolfe’s kissing is you.’
Libby
remembered Alex’s hesitation on the Manly esplanade on Saturday morning when he’d
noticed a small group studying him. She remembered that one of the group had
held a magazine. Now she knew what had amused them so much: they’d seen her and
Alex walking together and were speculating on whether he was really
the
Alex Wolfe and if she was the woman
in the photo.
Slipping
against the counter edge, Libby held her woozy head. This was worse than she’d
ever imagined. As Payton suggested, it wasn’t certain who the woman in that
kissing photo was but it wouldn’t be hard to put two and two together after
this additional
clearer
shot taken on
the Gold Coast.
She’d
known this kind of a leak was a possibility and yet she’d gone ahead and
continued to see him intimately anyway. Now the stark reality glared out at
her. If she gave Alex what he wanted on Wednesday after her evaluation, who
would believe she hadn’t been charmed or, worse, bribed?
She
slipped her bag, holding the pearl charm, behind her back and muttered as she
headed off, ‘I’m unavailable for calls.’
But
Payton wasn’t letting her friend off that easily.
‘Libby,
please. Talk to me. This is so
huge
.
I mean … ohmigod … Alex
Wolfe
!’ She
held her heart as if it were pounding and said solemnly, ‘I bet he’s an
unbelievable kisser. Did you ever think for one moment that he’d fall for you
like this?’
Libby
stopped, shuddered and walked haltingly back. Maybe there were some photos she
hadn’t seen yet. Good Lord, she hoped there hadn’t been any telescopic lenses
pointed at the beach that night!
‘I
was telling my friend, Tawny,’ Payton went on, ‘that when he was here the other
day I thought he was looking at you with a real sultry gleam in his eye. And
then when you didn’t come back from lunch at all that day, I didn’t want to say
anything but my imagination went through the roof—’
‘Payton.’
Feeling her entire body erupt
in a blush, Libby threw a worried glance toward the front entrance. ‘I don’t
want you spreading gossip like that.’
Payton’s
eyebrows slanted in. She looked confused. Hurt. ‘But, Libby,
everyone
knows. It’s all over the papers
and the internet. What’s wrong? If I were you, I wouldn’t give a tinker’s tap
what the press is saying.’
Her
knees gone to jelly, Libby had slumped against the counter. The internet? She
felt gutted. No. She was
numb
.
Libby
stumbled into her office, fell into her chair and, holding her flushed cheeks,
groaned. Once upon a time she’d thrived on publicity. In her day, she’d adored
being Australia’s poster girl. She’d been on fire, but she wasn’t so hot
anymore, and a huge diversion from Alex Wolfe’s usual female fare. He had a
reputation for seeing starlets and supermodels and positively no one who came
close to resembling her. The press would try to crucify her.
But
strangely she didn’t care about that aspect. She knew how Alex felt about her.
How he saw her and had helped her see herself that way again too. She might
have given back mobility and strength to his arm but he’d given back infinitely
more.
A
scratching on the window had Libby swinging around. Through the glass she
caught the fervent expression of a man with shaggy coffee-coloured hair before
the flash of a professional camera went off and blinded her. Shielding her
eyes, she lunged over and snapped shut the blinds at the same time Payton flew
through the doorway.
‘Libby,
a reporter’s in the foyer.’
A
person was on Payton’s heels. Peering over her shoulder, the young man with
silver framed eyeglasses held up a mini recorder. ‘I’m after a quote, Ms
Henderson. People want to know about Alex Wolfe’s latest love interest.’
For
an instant, rather than the reporter, Libby saw Alex standing there as he had
almost a week ago when he’d asked her to lunch and she’d taken that first step
toward her ordinary life being turned on its head. She loved being with Alex,
but she wanted no part of this.
While
Payton tried to crowd the reporter back, Libby struggled to assemble her
thoughts, but the intruder was beyond eager to snare this ripe opportunity.
‘You
were Female World Surfing Champ years ago, Libby. Do you have any comment on
your accident? Does Alex know that you wear a prosthesis? Do you compare
yourself to the women Alex Wolfe usually dates?’
Growling,
Payton grabbed the reporter’s arm and tried her best to wrestle him out. But
when Libby came steadily forward, the two stopped their battle, the reporter
clearly anticipating a gossip worthy response.
‘You’d
like a reply,’ Libby asked, and the reporter nodded. So she first held the
doorjamb for ballast, swung back a leg and kicked him as hard as she could in
the shin. When he jumped and howled, she announced, ‘That’s my answer.’
Payton
gave an astonished way-to-go look before Libby closed and locked the door.
Libby
listened to her friend herding the reporter away while delayed tears threatened
to rise. The reporter hadn’t said anything new … about her accident … her leg …
most particularly the fact that it seemed an anomaly that a man like Alex Wolfe
should find her appealing.
Sexy
.
Scott certainly hadn’t after that day.
But
they were different men. Different on so many levels.
Her
cell phone rang. She reached her bag and retrieved the call at the same time
she saw the screen blink out the caller’s name. Alex Wolfe.
‘Are
you available for lunch?’ he said down the line. ‘There’s a restaurant I want
to take you to but it’s difficult to get a reservation. I wanted to call early.’
‘You
know about those magazines, don’t you?’ she asked straight out.
The
silence on the line finally ended in an expulsion of air. ‘Yes.’
‘That’s
why you phoned. To see if I knew too.’
He
exhaled again. ‘I’m sorry, Libby.’
‘It’s
not your fault,’ she said. ‘It was bound to happen. I knew that as well as you
did.’
‘You’re
okay with it?’
Libby
thought about the photographer scratching at her window, the reporter barging
into her office and asking the rudest questions. But she wouldn’t tell Alex
what that obnoxious man had said. No doubt the press would do all they could to
ask Alex the same.
What did he find appealing about a cripple
like Libby Henderson?
‘Libby?’
‘I’m
fine,’ she said, then took a breath and told herself that she was. She’d
weathered worse. She’d survive. ‘I’ll be over by nine for our session but I can’t
go to lunch.’