Forever Starts Tomorrow (5 page)

‘What makes you think that’s what I want?’ she asked. ‘Did you even stop to think that maybe I would have liked to have had more people at the table? Or did you just do what you wanted, without considering anyone else’s feelings? Is this how you operate?’

‘Only if I really want something to happen.’ His honesty disarmed her momentarily, long enough for him to find the crack in her armor and to attack it relentlessly.

‘I am sorry if I acted preemptively.’ Was it even legal for a man to have such a seductive voice? Warm and soft, like liquid silk, it lulled her into a sense of security she knew wasn’t real. Her brain screamed loudly that she should watch out, but the magnetic power of his eyes made it impossible to think straight.

‘Would you like me to ask them to restore the seating arrangements?’ He leaned forward, his expression serious. ‘Just say so…’

‘That would look even worse,’ she mumbled, her eyes drawn to the opening of his shirt. She caught a glimpse of his tan chest, and she blushed.

‘I don’t like it when people make choices that affect me without consulting with me first.’ She swallowed hard and looked up to meet his eyes. ‘I’ve been putting up with this for too long to let it ever happen again.’

She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to tell him how she felt. He probably didn’t care either way, his masculine interest focused solely on the physical aspect of their chat. She knew she wasn’t bad looking. Not great looking, by any means. Just decent enough to turn a few heads here and there.

‘I promise to behave from now on.’ He smiled at her, the warmth in his eyes making it impossible to breathe. ‘I admit that I have a bad habit of getting pushy at times, Melanie. I’m sorry if it annoyed you.’

She nodded, unable to look away. She was fighting a losing battle, and she knew it. Deep down, she could not pretend she wasn’t glad she was alone with him. She would have never forgiven herself if she’d let him slip away; there was a sense of destiny too strong to be fought. Whatever happened next, she was meant to meet Scott Masden.

THREE

She woke up late, a languorous weakness making it impossible to lift her heavy eyelids. She stretched, still half asleep. Her foot scraped against the sheets, the soft silky feel of the fabric sending a shiver of pleasure up her spine. Her calves ached—as if she had run a 5K, she thought, flexing her arms and spine. She extended her legs, enjoying the caress of the sheets, until suddenly her toes hit something solid.

Two things hit Melanie simultaneously, and the remnants of sleep vanished in an instant as, wide awake, she opened her eyes.
My sheets aren’t usually this soft
, was the first half-coherent thought, followed by another:
I’m not alone
. There was a warm, firm body in her bed. Her toes rested against a solid wall of bone and muscle.

‘Good morning.’ Scott’s voice made her look up, a myriad of emotions flooding her chest all at the same time. Surprise, embarrassment, and excitement fought for the upper hand as she stared up into his face, her eyes locking with his dark gaze. Neither emotion won out, in the end. Instead, Melanie felt an odd sense of peace taking over every cell of her still-drowsy body, the rightness of being there with Scott impossible to explain and deny. It felt… right, she thought, as she saw him smile, and she smiled back.

‘I was watching you sleeping.’ He laughed softly, the stubble on his cheeks adding a dangerous, reckless quality to his good looks. He looked as she imagined a corsair might have looked in the olden days, his skin still salty from the voyage to the high seas. Her lips tingled, a memory of tasting his skin last night resurfacing even before she was able to conjure details of what exactly had transpired after they’d left the party together. Then the images came, and she felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment, the recklessness of their passionate lovemaking not something she ever thought herself able to do. Not in her wildest dreams would she have thought she was a one-night stand kind of a person. At least, not until Scott’s arrival.

‘What time is it?’ She asked groggily, cringing at the silliness of her question. After all the things that had happened, time shouldn’t have been her main concern at that moment.

‘It’s early.’ Scott must have been thinking along the same lines. His whispered words were followed by a kiss, his firm mouth lingering against the hot skin of her forehead. ‘Very early.’

Melanie swallowed, trying hard to gather her wits. It wasn’t easy, since his mouth trailed lazily lower, gossamer light kisses showering her cheeks. His sweet breath washed over her face, and she felt her resolve weaken, her skin coming alive under his touch.

‘It’s Sunday,’ he whispered again, his lips resting against the corner of her mouth. She held her breath, waiting for him to continue.
I’ll think about everything later
, she thought, as her face lifted higher, like a flower turning toward the sun. It was all the invitation he needed, because suddenly he wasn’t waiting anymore. His lips parted hers, demanding a response that couldn’t be denied. She felt his hands sweep against her body, stroking her hips and stomach before moving higher to the round softness of her breasts. Melanie's nipples hardened instantly at the caress. Her back arched as she pressed closer to the rock-solid frame of his tall body. She recognized the strength of his muscles, flexing under her fingertips as she allowed them to explore his chest and arms. Odd as it seemed, he didn’t feel like a stranger. Instead, it felt as if she already knew every inch of his skin, burning against hers.

It was then that her phone rang. The cheerful tones of “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” broke the web of passion woven around their intertwined bodies, and she heard Scott laugh quietly, the sound warm against her skin.

‘I’d better take it,’ she mumbled, propping herself up and looking around in desperation. She had realized by now that she was at his place, of course. Still, seeing that she was in a bedroom that was large enough to hold her whole apartment stunned her. The huge bed seemed to be the only piece of furniture, the rest of the space empty, save for a few photographs and a huge oriental painting on the opposite wall. But it was the wall that made Melanie hold her breath, the vast expanse of glass from the ceiling to the floor opening a view of the rocks and the ocean, hazy and pale-blue in the golden glow of the sunrise. She remembered standing at the glass the night before, and Scott’s arms pulling her against his body before they tumbled to the floor.

Her phone kept on ringing, and she felt his arms slacken, letting her go, his obvious reluctance making her ridiculously happy. She spotted her clothes, a crumpled pile next to the bed. Another first. Her family would have died seeing the mess. She was usually very neat—an example to her two stepsisters, as her mom had pointed out on numerous occasions. Her bag was hidden under the crimson dress and scrap of burgundy lace that was her underwear. She found her phone and pressed the talk button, acutely aware of her nudity and Scott’s eyes, burning against her love-flushed skin.

‘Yes?’ Did she really sound so breathless?

‘Mel, where on earth are you?’ Sam, of course—a very upset and frantic Sam. She could almost see her, her round eyes wide open and lips pressed together in a line of disapproval as she searched for her friend. Things wouldn’t improve if she knew she were here, in Scott’s arms.

‘I’m fine, of course.’ She knew she had to say something to placate her friend; the explanation of what had transpired was still a mystery to her own mind. She had gone home with Scott. She’d flirted with him and ended up having the most mind-blowing sex of her life. Somehow, when she put it into words like that, it failed to capture the true nature of what had really happened—such as the fact that they’d talked for hours, missing most of the evening’s performances. Or the fact that Scott didn’t come on to her one bit in all that time. In the end, it was her hand that had reached out to stroke his face, the temptation of the physical contact too much to be denied. It was the look in his dark eyes that had become her undoing, the warmth of his gaze igniting the flame inside her and turning it into an inferno.

‘I can tell you’re alive.’ Sam’s acerbic tone jarred her, and she blinked, embarrassed. ‘Where did you disappear to last night? I was searching for you after the party, but you were totally gone. I thought you went home, so I didn’t worry until I got back from Brad’s in the morning and you weren’t here. Did our Mr. Perfect charm you at the table, and then you left with him? God knows he went to a lot of trouble to sit just with you. I should know.’ She laughed a short, bitter laugh that spoke volumes of her dislike for Scott. ‘He’s a ladies’ man, for sure. Did he try to get into your pants?’

‘No, nothing like that.’ She hated Sam calling him that. She glanced at the man himself, with his large frame spread carelessly on the huge, king-size bed. Against the white sheets, his skin had the glow that some people tried to achieve in tanning salons or on the beach. He was watching her with a smile, unperturbed by the fact that he was absolutely naked and visibly interested in picking up where they’d left off before the phone rang.

‘Look, I’m OK, so don’t worry.’ She managed to sound calm, her voice smooth and insisting. ‘We can talk later. I need to go now.’ She finished the call, before Sam could grill her some more.

For a second, her newfound confidence left her as she stared at the small phone, not sure what to do next. Then Scott’s arms came to scoop her closer, his breath tickling her hair as he whispered into her ear:

‘Maybe you should turn it off altogether. Something tells me you might get a call again. That’s a really bad thing on an early Sunday morning.’ He nuzzled her neck, his cheeks scraping gently against her skin. ‘Plus, I really want to make you my signature breakfast.’

She laughed softly, her equilibrium restored. It should have frightened her, how easy it was for him to make her feel perfectly safe and happy. She should have worried about the fact that in the cradle of his arms she felt invincible and all-powerful. Only, she didn’t worry. She turned around to face him, her blue eyes searching his handsome features. Was it possible that she had known him for less than twenty-four hours? The long curly lashes that framed his black eyes were oddly familiar, as were his high cheeks and high-bridged nose. She recognized the way his lips formed a smile, their somber beauty replaced with sensual promise. But what pulled her in most, with a quality that was magnetic, was the glimpse of his vulnerability, hidden behind his self-assured expression. She could tell—no, she could feel—that he was so much more than an attractive face with an incredible brain and a bank account with an insane number of zeroes. She couldn’t wait to find out more.

‘As long as you have some good old fashioned OJ in the house, I’m in,’ she whispered, before pulling his head closer to bridge the unbearable gap between them. They tumbled back into the sheets, and her whole world was reduced to his lips against her skin.

FOUR

Present time
.

‘You let her walk away?’

Scott cringed as he watched his sister over the coffee they shared in one of the best espresso bars in town. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to share with her the fact that Melanie had dumped him. Marnie adored his fiancée, so much that he felt tempted to suggest she’d marry her herself.

‘Didn’t have much choice in that.’ He shrugged, suppressing a wince as his muscles protested the movement. Damn, maybe the idea of biking for four hours to clear his head wasn’t so great, after all. He felt sore, annoyed, and disappointed. Plus bewildered. He still couldn’t believe that Melanie would walk out on him because of Vanessa. Was it her ticket out? Had she already planned on leaving him, and the whole drama was staged just to conveniently fit into her plans?

He knew he was being paranoid. Still, old habits died hard. He’d been in enough relationships to know that manipulation and love could be very closely intertwined.

‘Did you tell her you didn’t want her to leave?’ Marnie attacked with a viciousness that was somewhat at odds with her tiny frame. Five feet two, she looked like a dark-haired, delicate china doll, her huge brown eyes and soft smile a magnet for men since the age of fourteen. ‘I bet you didn’t.’

‘She was absolutely out of line.’ Scott knew it sounded wrong, but was past caring. Nobody, Marnie included, knew of the agonizing pain he’d felt that night, watching Melanie drive away, never once even looking back. ‘She came to spy on me, Mar. Followed me to the restaurant and accused me of having an affair with Vanessa.’

‘And are you having one?’ His sister wasn’t easily shaken off; he should have known that. ‘Never go down without a fight,’ was her motto, and grilling him on his failed romance was no exception. ‘You’ve been seeing Vanessa on and off for years, Scott. Is it really so hard to understand why it might look suspicious?’

‘That’s exactly it.’ He raked a hand through his hair, exasperated. ‘It might look bad, but Melanie should know me by now. We’ve been engaged for weeks, and if she still doesn’t trust me enough to take my word for it, then maybe we aren’t meant to be together after all. I’ve never dated two women at the same time, and definitely won’t start doing so when I am engaged.’

‘Let me get this straight.’ Marnie wouldn’t be fooled by his statement. Tenacity ran in the family. He watched her fire up, ready to attack. ‘You tell her you can’t go with her to a party because of your work, then go and meet your ex-girlfriend. Wow, how dare she think this is wrong, really.’

‘OK, keep your sarcasm down.’ He didn’t feel like fighting. Truth be told, Scott didn’t feel like anything, except driving to his office and burying himself under a load of work. Going home was not an option, with every corner of his house screaming Melanie’s name even a week after she’d packed up her bags and left.

He wanted to wait her out, he’d told himself in the first two days, his anger helping him to keep his cool. She’d soon realize she made a mistake and come back. She had to, didn’t she? But as the third and then the fourth day passed, with not so much as a peep from Melanie, he started to seriously worry. Day five was the hardest, so far. Scott spent his evening going over their photographs, scattering them around him on the huge, oriental carpet that covered most of his living room. He stared at Melanie’s face, the sweet smile that had captivated his heart the moment they met haunting him, until he was ready to pick up the whole lot and burn it. Anything would do, as long as he freed himself of that constant ache in his heart.