Once a Bad Girl

chapter Ten

He found her skulking in the barbeque section in Selfridges, pretending to look at skewers, a large pair of dark glasses perched on her nose. She knew it was silly to wear them indoors, but it was either that or hide in the toilets.

‘Cute,’ he said, putting his index finger on the bridge and pulling them down so he could see her eyes.

She narrowed them at him. ‘I got attacked in the book shop.’

‘What?’

‘Well, not attacked exactly. But I was just looking at books, minding my own business, and everyone started taking pictures of me.’

‘Naturally,’ he said, touching his thumb to her bottom lip. ‘You’re very photogenic.’

‘I’ve seen myself in a mirror,’ she sniffed. ‘Flattery will get you nowhere.’

‘Maybe nowhere is where I want to be.’

‘I fell down the stairs.’

His arms were around her in an instant. ‘Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Let me see.’

His hands started to roam over her, but she took his wrists and stopped him. She shoved her sunglasses back on top of her head. ‘Josh, what is this? What are we doing?’

‘Planning to cook al fresco?’ He moved away, parked himself in front of a huge, gas powered man grill.

‘The club is open,’ she reminded him. ‘And the auction is tomorrow. The place is going to be packed. We’ve already got bids on the books for pretty much everything. We’ve done what we set out to do.’

‘And?’

‘We don’t need to pretend anymore.’ So why had she called him? She could have called anyone. Her dad. Rachel. Any of the staff from the auction house. She could have gone to the tube station and gone home. She could have put on her big-girl pants and bought the books, then found herself the sensible suit she’d come here to buy. But instead, she’d rung Josh.

‘I haven’t been pretending for weeks,’ he said.

‘Then what have you been doing?’

‘Do you really want to have this conversation in the barbeque section of Selfridges, Lottie?’

Lottie didn’t know. She felt like the floor was shifting under her feet and she couldn’t get her balance. She’d started to depend on him. To need him. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this.’

And because she was upset, and he was her source of comfort as well as the cause of all her pain, she went to him.

He set his hands to her upper arms and started to rub, a gentle, soothing motion. ‘I’ve been lonely a long time. I’m tired of it.’

‘But after the auction…’

‘You’re going to take a holiday. And we’re going to buy a barbeque and have a party.’

‘You still want to see me?’

He shook his head. ‘For a smart woman you’re incredibly dense sometimes. Yes, I still want to see you.’

Oh, she thought. Oh. Then he lowered his head and kissed her, and she couldn’t think at all.

People had taken pictures of her. She’d gone to a bookshop, minding her own business, and people had taken pictures of her, and she’d fallen. He’d tolerated the other intrusions into her privacy, but this one cut him to the quick. He wanted to find whoever those people had been and deal with them personally, but he knew it was too late. The moment had passed. But the anger didn’t subside.

Wrapping his arms around her, Josh held her against him, knowing how possessive and inappropriate he was being, and not giving a damn. In that moment, he’d never hated his life more. It was bad enough that Marlene’s fame had poisoned so much of his life. Now it was poisoning Lottie’s too, and that was wrong.

But when she’d been scared, she’d called him. She needed him. He shoved away the thought that if she’d never met him in the first place she’d never have ended up in that situation, not wanting to go there. What they needed was a break, he decided. Some peace, away from all the madness.

And he knew exactly where to find it.

‘That’s it. That’s the last lot.’ The auction had passed without a hitch. Ninety-seven lots, all sold, all for way over their estimated value. Scribbling down the last few totals, Lottie did a quick calculation and had to sit down. She nodded at the customers who were filing out of the sale room. Even the ones who hadn’t managed to secure anything had had a good time. The room was buzzing, and not just from the heavy smell of fresh paint.

Josh stood by the podium, deep in conversation with her parents. She didn’t know where that friendship had sprung from, certainly hadn’t predicted it, but they definitely liked him.

Things had turned out better than she had imagined. She wondered what things were going to be like, now that the auction was over and they didn’t need to parade their relationship to the press any more. Hopefully the paparazzi would leave them alone. Josh Blakemore with a girlfriend was of no interest to anyone, particularly when he’d picked an uninteresting girlfriend.

Rachel slid in next to her. ‘You did good.’

Lottie watched as her father patted Josh on the back. ‘I keep expecting to wake up and find out this is all some sort of insane dream. Only my imagination isn’t this powerful.’

‘We’ve had a couple of enquiries this morning asking whether we’re interested in hosting any more specialist sales.’

‘Could be a good angle for us,’ Lottie pondered. ‘The unique and the unusual. We’ve made so much on this we can be selective for a bit. I’ll run the idea past Dad, see what he thinks.’

‘No you won’t. You’re taking a week off.’

‘In a month or so, when everything is sorted!’

‘No,’ Rachel said firmly. She lifted one hand and gave the thumbs up sign. ‘You’re off duty. As of now.’

‘What? Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got all the payments to deal with, and I’ve got to arrange delivery of everything.’

‘It’s all under control. Honestly, Lottie, we can manage without you for a few days.’

Lottie was still trying to decide whether that was an insult or not when Josh came strolling over, his hands tucked into the trouser pockets of his suit. This one was black and super sharp, with a crisp white shirt and blue tie that matched his eyes. He looked so beautiful she found it hard to breathe.

He’d said they weren’t over, but had he meant it? The auction was over now. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe he’d said it just to get to this point without her causing another embarrassing scene in public.

‘All sorted?’ he asked Rachel, who took the notebook and pen out of Lottie’s hands.

‘Most definitely. Please take her away before she chains herself to her desk.’

Lottie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘I am here, you know!’

Josh stroked a finger across her cheek. ‘We know. Come on. We’ve got a train to catch.’

‘Okaaayyyyy,’ Lottie took in a little air. ‘Would someone like to tell me what’s going on?’

‘That’s my cue to leave,’ Rachel said. ‘Have fun! She gave Lottie a hug and Josh a wink, then strode off to the front of the room, settling herself in next to the woman who had bought Marlene’s entire collection of couture.

‘Right then, Charlotte Spencer. We’re leaving. Do you want to walk out, or do I have to put you over my shoulder and create another one of those public scenes you love so much?’

‘I’ll walk. I only do dramatic when there are cameras around.’

‘Trust me,’ he said, ‘there are always cameras around.’

‘Not always,’ she said, thinking of what they’d done last night, and this morning in the shower, and desperately hoping that was true. ‘So…so you’re not dumping me?’

‘We’ve been through this, Lottie. Why don’t you trust me?’

‘I do.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘I do. So come on. Let me in on the big surprise.’

He grinned, leading her through the doors at the back of the auction room and down the stairs towards her office. ‘Good things come to those who wait.’

‘You better not be after kinky office sex,’ she warned him as he steered her down the stairs, his hands on her waist.

‘No! Well, yes. But no.’ He pushed her past her office, towards the end of the corridor and the fire exit.

Lottie stepped aside so he could set one of those big shoulders to the door and shove it open. ‘I get it now. You’re after kinky alleyway sex.’

‘You know me too well.’

‘What is it they say about great minds?’

‘I think perhaps you mean dirty minds, and more specifically your dirty mind.’

They tumbled out into the alleyway. Sunshine bathed everything, fresh and warm and new. Even the weeds sprouting up between the paving stones looked happy. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my mind. Where are we going?’

‘Give a bloke a chance, Lottie.’

‘A chance to what?’

He cupped her face, tilted it up. ‘To do this.’ Then he covered her mouth with his. It was a determined kiss, a passionate kiss, an impatient kiss, as if he’d been waiting forever for it. His lips were firm, and he teased. Oh, how he teased. ‘Thank you.’

‘What for?’

‘For sticking with this, even when you hated it. For putting up with the photographers and the people in the bookshop yesterday and the general crazy that is my life.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ she said, feeling a little overwhelmed. ‘It has been crazy though, hasn’t it?’

He looked as if he wanted to say something else, then changed his mind. He took her hand, and pulled her to the end of the alley. There, double parked but fortunately not clamped, was a big, black four wheel drive so packed with testosterone she was surprised it didn’t growl.

‘I’ve got a place in France,’ he said. ‘It’s a bit in the middle of nowhere, I’m afraid. No nightclubs or gallery openings. I thought we could go there for a few days.’

‘Hot running water?’

He nodded.

‘A bed?’

‘With white cotton sheets.’

‘Hmm.’ Lottie pretended to think about it. Then she spun round, opened the passenger door and jumped in. She stuck her head out. ‘What are you waiting for?’

The next morning, Josh awoke to the sounds of running water and singing. Loud, happy singing. A gentle sense of peace settled over him. It was as if everything that had been wrong in his life didn’t matter anymore. His mother was still a drunk, yes, and the press would still hound him whenever they didn’t have anything better to do, but it all seemed bearable, somehow.

Because Lottie was here, and he could lie in bed and think about nothing and know that she’d keep all his secrets locked up tight. Even if she was using up all the hot water.

And the soap. Hot water. And soap. And that curvaceous body, and those luscious breasts. The bed creaked as he rolled off it. Lottie had squealed when she’d seen the bed, a baroque monstrosity that he’d kept only because it was massive and he liked plenty of room to stretch out.

At least, he had liked plenty of room, before he’d discovered what it was like to have her curled up against him, warm and soft with her hair smelling faintly of coconut. She was so firmly in his life now he was having a hard time imagining her out of it.

Imagining her naked wasn’t so difficult. Seeing her naked, well, that was as good as it got. Josh strolled over to the door that led into the ensuite and pushed it open.

Steam billowed around him, dampening his skin. Lottie stood in the middle of the floor, a towel draped over her head. She was singing something about a man called Rico and a diamond as she rubbed her legs dry.

Josh watched her for a moment. She was happy, he thought. And so was he. He liked it. He liked it a lot. ‘Morning,’ he said. He turned on the shower, and wondered if he could persuade her back under the spray. ‘You should have woken me up.’

‘Nah. You looked too pretty asleep.’

‘One thing I am not is pretty.’

She flicked back her hair. ‘Beautiful, then. Stunning. Gorgeous.’

Josh rubbed a hand through his hair. She’d got him blushing like a schoolgirl with a few silly words. He walked right up against her, kissed her shoulder. ‘You’re in a good mood.’

‘Of course I’m in a good mood!’ She bounced on her toes, squishing those luscious breasts up against him. ‘The auction was amazing, and I’m here with you.’

‘What do you really want, Lottie?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I know…you said the auction house was your brother’s thing. It was always supposed to be his. What about you? What do you want?’

‘I want a bit of you,’ she smiled up at him, grinding her hips against his. The softness of her belly rubbed against his groin. It was first thing in the morning. He didn’t need any more encouragement.

But now he’d started down this path, he couldn’t stop. ‘You can’t get out of it that easily,’ he said, glancing across at the shower. No steam. He backed her towards it. Tiny droplets flew out and tickled his forearms, his hands, each one a little touch of icy cold. ‘So come on, confess. What was the dream?’

‘The auction house.’

‘You already told me you never wanted to work there. Tell me the truth.’

‘Or what?’

Josh moved her back another couple of inches.

Her legs stiffened, and she shrieked. ‘I had the crazy idea that it could be reinvented as some sort of jazz hall. You know, with tables set up in the main auction room, a stage in the corner with a singer and a band. Music lessons in the offices. An instrument shop in the storage area. I drew up a whole set of plans for it when I was 12. With colour and everything.’ She laughed, but her eyes crinkled in that way they did when she was sad. ‘You probably think that’s hilarious.’

‘I think it’s brilliant,’ Josh said. How could he have been so blind? He ran nightclubs, for god’s sake. And as a venue, it would be stunning. ‘Now, where were we?’

‘You were about to take a cold shower?’

‘I’ve got a better idea.’

She slipped a hand between them and stroked him, base to tip. ‘So do I.’

‘I like the way your mind works, Miss Spencer.’

They tumbled back into bed and spent the next hour making a lot of noise. And then Josh started to plan.

Lottie kicked the pedal round, planted her left foot on top of it, and tried to remember how it went. She gripped the handlebars hard, teeth clenched. If a five year old could ride a bike, she could. Though how many five year olds had a bike as yummy as this, with its’ glittery purple paint, coloured spokes and flowery saddle? Just looking at it made the back of her throat feel strange. The skirt of her little cotton dress fluttered up in the breeze, but she was too busy trying to convince herself she wouldn’t end up in hospital to worry about a bit of thigh flashing. The sun warmed her back as she took her first wobbly ride across the garden and crashed straight into a bush. She couldn’t see Josh at the kitchen window, but she blushed anyway.

The front wheel came free with a good yank on the handlebars. She picked the leaves out of the spokes and turned the bike around, hoping that this time she’d remember to use the brakes before she ended up with plasters on her knees.

Memories of the last time she’d ridden a bike rose up, rich and vivid. Sunday lunches, arguing over who got to finish the pudding. Ice creams on the beach at Brighton. David waiting for her at the school gates, because his school tipped out 10 minutes earlier than hers did and they always walked home together. Good memories. Good times.

For the first time in forever, she could think about David without guilt making her sick, and it was all down to Josh and his magic charm. Or the magic sex. Or the magic something, anyway. He’d even had her confessing her silly childhood plan to turn the auction house into a jazz club.

She took a couple more turns around the garden, less wobbly, more confident now. She even remembered to use the brakes. Maybe…maybe she could tell him the rest of it, tell him the things about David’s accident that he didn’t know. Tell him what had really happened that night.

Yes. She’d tell him. Right now. Taking one last spin around the garden to prove to herself that she wasn’t going to fall off, she propped the bike up against the wall and went inside.

Josh was in the kitchen, wearing a tight white t-shirt that said ‘Mae, Barcelona’ and battered cargo shorts, relaxing back against the scarred wooden dresser with a coffee in his hand.

‘What?’ he asked, all innocence and charm.

‘Don’t you “what” me, I know you were watching.’

‘I had to check if your knickers show when you’re riding.’

Lottie tugged on the hem of her dress. ‘And do they?’

‘No, of course not.’ He drained his cup, put it in the sink. ‘Ready to risk life and limb and ride into the village?’

‘Josh, I…’ This was the right moment to tell him. She knew it was. ‘I…I love the bike.’

A huge grin split his face. He grabbed her waist, lifted her high and twirled her round until her head spun. And the moment was gone.

It was 10 minutes’ ride to the village, though it turned into half an hour as she stopped to admire every bird, every plant, and Josh with his dark hair and big shoulders and eyes that matched the sky.

He looked happy, relaxed in a way that he never had in London. But who wouldn’t be? The village came into view as they rounded a gentle corner, postcard perfect with rows of houses built from the same grey stone as Josh’s farmhouse. A church spire stretched up into the sky, and she could see a row of pretty shop fronts. She zoned straight in on the pâtisserie.

‘We’ll stop at the café first,’ Josh said, riding up alongside her. ‘I know the owner. He’s probably heard we’re here. I don’t want to get in his bad books by not saying hello. Then we’ll stock up. We’ll probably have to come every day though, I know how much you eat.’

Lottie took a swipe at him. ‘About half as much as you do. Race you!’

And she set off at a reckless speed, freewheeling her way down the hill. Josh caught up with her as she skidded to a halt outside the church, using a combination of the brakes and her red canvas pumps to slow herself down.

‘You’re insane,’ he said, but laughter creased the corners of his eyes, and he was grinning like an idiot.

‘You’re just jealous that you didn’t think of it first.’

‘I don’t think there’s anything you could do on a bike that I didn’t think of first,’ he pointed out.

‘Sometimes,’ Lottie said, ‘I worry about what goes on inside your head.’

A strange look crossed his face. ‘There is nothing going on inside my head.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Lottie dismounted and checked her dress for decency. ‘Can we have a look inside the church?’

‘Sure.’ Josh slowed his bike to a halt and got off it, leaning it against the wall. ‘Any particular reason?’

‘Nope,’ Lottie said. ‘Let’s just hope your head stays full of nothing while we’re in there.’

She skipped up the rough-cut stone steps that led to the side of the church. To the left she could see a small graveyard, the headstones weather-beaten and crusted with lichen. The angle of the building cut off her view of the front, but she could imagine it. All tall and imposing, with a huge arched entrance way and wide steps perfect for a just-married photo. There’d be more stained glass, maybe a big circular window. And then there was the tower. And the carved stone knights. And the gargoyles. Her skin tingled.

Lottie reached the top of the steps and went straight to the wooden door set deep in the stone. She reached for the handle, but Josh got there first.

‘Just one thing before we go in,’ he said, slipping three fingers through the twisted iron loop.

‘What?’

He winked. Then, quick as lightning, fit his mouth to hers and set about kissing her in a way that was nothing short of indecent. His tongue tangled with hers as his free hand worked some sort of magic on her left breast, making it ache and tingle. She touched his just-shaven jaw, traced the strong column of his neck, dug her hands into the soft mess of his hair. He felt like he’d been made for her.

By the time he set her free, her head was spinning. ‘We should get inside,’ she managed, ‘because I’m fairly certain having sex in church grounds is illegal.’

‘I just hope there’s nothing inappropriate going on inside your head, because we’re about to go into a church.’

Lottie narrowed her eyes at him, but decided not to retort. The man was already smug enough. She lifted one hand and gestured to the door. He gave her a conciliatory peck on the lips, twisted the handle and pushed it open. It scraped a little over the stone floor, but the hinges stayed quiet, and she felt a twinge of relief. There was something wrong about making noise in a church, even an empty church on a quiet Tuesday morning.

She walked into a tidy entranceway, with coat hooks and a super-neat noticeboard. Muffled voices caught her attention. A couple of other people were inside, but they wouldn’t mind her looking round, would they? Josh stepped in behind her, pulled the door closed and pinched her bum, and she barely held in a squeak. ‘Will you stop that!’

‘No,’ he said with a grin. ‘It’s too much fun watching you suffer.’

‘We’re in a church. Show some respect.’

‘I think you missed your calling. You should have been a school teacher.’

She ignored that. ‘I’m going to have a look around. Are you going to behave yourself, or are you going to wait outside?’

He held up his hands. ‘I’ll be good. I promise. Come on.’ He took her hand and pulled her forwards into the empty church. Or the not-so-empty church.

‘Oh, no,’ Lottie stepped back as at least a hundred pairs of eyes swivelled in their direction. From somewhere inside the church, an organ started to sing. Everyone stood. The main doors to their left swung open and in trotted the cutest little girls she’d ever seen, dressed up like angels in baby-pink tulle. The smaller of the two tipped up the basket she was carrying and dumped a pile of rose petals on the floor. Then she burst into tears.

Josh pulled Lottie forwards. Not back, not out the door, but forwards. Her heart jumped into her throat. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Shush,’ he said, shoving her towards the end of a half empty pew.

Lottie narrowed her shoulders and ducked her head in a pathetic attempt to make herself invisible. She sunk her elbow into his ribs. ‘We’re gatecrashing a wedding!’