Lessons in Rule-Breaking (10 page)

Taking a deep breath, she swivelled to one side so he had to release her from his grip. ‘Shall we go?’ she said.

His expression flashed with a mixture of surprise and something else. Disappointment?

‘Okay, if you like,’ he said, his voice rumbling low in his throat. ‘I’ll grab the food from the kitchen.’

He came back a few moments later with a hamper and a folded square of material, which she assumed was a picnic rug.

Jess reminded herself not to get too excited about how special this all felt. Xander had probably done things like this a million times before with a million other women.

He turned to smile at her. ‘Okay, we’re set.’

She nodded in agreement and joined him as he walked through the large patio doors, which opened onto the rear garden of the villa, and traversed the path that led down to the cove.

They walked in silence through the muted evening light, Xander cradling the picnic hamper close to his chest. The air was balmy and close with a threatening rainstorm, the atmosphere electric with the promise of a much-needed purge of humidity.

They picked their way over the warm sand of the cove to the far side, just back from the water, where they had a spectacular view of the opposite shore of the lake, which was beginning to glow and twinkle with colourful lights as the sky darkened.

‘I hope it doesn’t rain on us,’ Jess said, gazing at the ominous-looking clouds in the distance.

‘We’ll be fine for a while,’ Xander said, putting down the hamper and flapping open the thick rug, smoothing it carefully flat before gesturing for Jess to sit down on it.

Once she’d made herself comfortable—yanking down hard on her skirt so it covered as much of her legs as possible—he dropped down next to her, so close she could feel the heat of him radiating towards her.

Pulling out cartons of cold meats, salad, olives and a wealth of other local delicacies, he laid them out carefully on the rug and handed her a plate.

‘Dig in,’ he said, motioning towards the feast in front of them.

While Jess picked out a few things for her plate he reached into the hamper and came out with a couple of oil-fired lamps and lit them with a long match. They cast a soft glow over the area where they sat.

If she hadn’t thought it ridiculous she would have assumed he was deliberately setting up a romantic atmosphere. As it was, she was so nervous she could barely eat a thing. Xander didn’t remark on it, though; he must have thought talking about food and eating was a no-go area after her confession the night before.

It was kind of him—thoughtful—and she felt a glow of affection towards him.

‘You know, you’re nothing like I expected you to be.’

He raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘No?’

‘The press make you out to be some badly behaved lout, but they’ve clearly got you pegged all wrong.’

He frowned in mock disgruntlement. ‘Don’t say that. I was rather enjoying living up to my bad-boy reputation.’

She laughed. ‘What was it that made you so wild in your youth?’ she asked casually, holding her breath as she waited to see whether Xander trusted her enough yet to tell her something that personal about himself.

Those beautiful eyes of his seemed fathomless as he stared at her, his gaze raking her face for signs of...what? A set-up?

Her heart whammed against her chest like a malfunctioning metronome as she waited to see whether he’d answer her question. She needed some interesting backstory to make the story shine, but somewhere in her brain a small voice told her she really wanted to know for herself. She wanted to think the best of him, because despite the arrogance—which she was beginning to suspect was actually a defence mechanism—she really liked him. And not just because he was so gorgeous, but because she sensed there was a whole lot more to him than he ever let anyone else see.

The optimistic side of him must have won because he leant forward, his gaze capturing hers, and said, ‘What do you think it was?’

A slow trickle of excitement percolated through her veins as she realised this could be it—he was letting her in. ‘Did you have a tough upbringing?’ she asked, desperately hoping she hadn’t read him all wrong.

He folded his arms across his broad chest, making the muscles in his shoulders and arms bunch beneath his T-shirt. He looked down at the flickering candle between them. ‘You could say that. My parents never intended having a child. I was an accident—which my father liked to remind me of every chance he got.’ He looked back at her and she was shocked to see insecurity in his expression—something she’d not encountered before. ‘My mum died giving birth to me.’

His voice had taken on a steely edge, which sent a shiver of horror through her. ‘I paid my way in that family by spending most of my childhood working to keep myself fed and clothed—until my dad kicked me out when I was sixteen. He’d spend most of his time down the pub or the betting office, so I hardly saw him anyway.’ He leant back on the rug, anchoring his arms behind him and readjusting his body before looking at her. There was nothing on his face but a blank expression now, as if he’d drawn down the shutters.

‘How awful for you.’ She could picture him as a child not being allowed to do the things that normal kids did—not being allowed to
be
a child—and it made her chest ache.

He shrugged. ‘It was tough at times. I got into a lot of trouble, for shoplifting and fighting and then for my graffiti and got myself a bad reputation. The teachers wrote me off after a few years of failing to straighten me out.’

She’d known children like that when she was at school. Loners. Lost souls. People who had difficulty fitting into what everyone else thought of as normal life because they’d never had the opportunity to experience it.

The atmosphere had dropped dark now and she wanted to pull it back before the hard pressure behind her eyes became real tears for him.

‘But look at you now.’ She managed to catch the wobble at the end of the sentence and turn it into a gentle clearing of her throat. ‘Everyone wants to own a piece of the great and talented Xander Heaton,’ she finished on a deeply concentrated frown as she battled to conceal her need to jump into his lap and rub herself all over him.

‘And which piece are you after, Jess?’ he asked, leaning forward now and giving her a seductive grin, the heavy atmosphere of the last couple of minutes evaporating into the air around them.

He was king of the suggestive comment, this guy.

All she could think about now was exactly which bits of Xander she’d like to get her hands on. Her mind flew to an image of his magnificent body, prostrate on her bed, with him wearing only a sheet and that mesmerising smile. She pictured herself leaning over him, lowering her lips to his as she attempted to kiss away all the pain that kept him so distant from the rest of the world....

‘Jess?’ He was frowning at her now as if he was afraid she’d walked through a door marked ‘crazy’ and wasn’t coming back.

‘Yeah?’ She slid her hands over her hair in an attempt to straighten herself out. Neat hair, neat mind.

‘You okay?’

‘Fine.’ She stared out across the lake, attempting to bring herself back to reality.

‘Did you go to college or university to study art?’ she asked to fill the uncomfortable silence.

Putting his plate down, he leant back on his arms and looked out across the water. ‘Nah, I’m mostly self-taught. I left school when I left home at sixteen without any qualifications so no college would have touched me with a bargepole. I messed up a lot at school because of having to work late into the evening and being too tired to concentrate. Then I started skipping a lot because I couldn’t keep up with the lessons and ended up feeling stupid, and I
hated
that. So when I left I didn’t exactly have a bright and shiny future ahead of me.

‘Art was the only subject I enjoyed at school. It was the one thing I felt I was actually good at, and I had an amazing teacher who really encouraged me. Unfortunately I wasn’t in the right mindset at that age to put enough work into my lessons—I didn’t think for a second I could make any money out of it, and that’s all that concerned me at the time—so it just became a hobby. After I left school, I used to go out in the dead of night with a crew and paint or spray the walls of public buildings with my pictures as a kind of release from the boredom of my existence. Art helped me channel the rage I felt that I didn’t feel able to express in words.’

Jess experienced a swell of outrage for him. ‘I can’t believe no one at the school realised you needed more help and support.’

‘Yeah, well, it was an underprivileged area and there were other kids a lot worse off than me. And to be honest, I wasn’t interested in their help. I wanted to prove to myself I could manage on my own.’

Jess thought about her own cushy upbringing. Despite the feeling of never managing to become the daughter her mother wanted, she’d never had to worry about coping without enough food or sleep.

Shame washed over her in a hot wave, prickling at her skin, as she realised she’d allowed herself to prejudge Xander, before finding out the reasons for him acting the way he did. It wasn’t because he got off on it and enjoyed the notoriety—although that obviously played a small part—it was because he was trying to live his life at triple the speed to make up for what he’d lost in the past.

She couldn’t fault him for that.

‘You’re incredible,’ she blurted. ‘Look at what you’ve done with your life. You’ve made it count with no support and no qualifications.’

‘Yeah, well, I’m stubborn like that,’ he said on a smile.

‘It’s impressive.’

‘Thanks.’ He readjusted his position on the rug, drawing his body closer to her.

An intense longing shot through her, taking her right to the edge of her comfort zone. If she’d thought she’d wanted him before, it was nothing to how much she wanted him now. These insights into his character both fascinated and terrified her—she could totally see why he kept himself so emotionally distant from his partners—but did that mean he’d never be able to settle down with one person?

From what he’d said the night before, it certainly sounded as if
he’d
decided that was the case.

But was there scope to change his mind?

Don’t even think about it, Jess.

‘What did your father say when you became so successful?’ she asked, trying to steer her thoughts back to safer ground. ‘He must have been proud of you for what you’ve achieved?’

Xander barked out a harsh laugh, making her jump. ‘Are you kidding? He never turned up to see any of the stuff I’ve showcased. He thought art was a waste of time. He thought
I
was a waste of time.’

‘So you never reconciled things with him? Even after you left home and made it big?’

‘You could say that. The last time we laid eyes on each other he told me he wished I hadn’t been born because then my mother would still be alive.’

‘Oh, my God, Xander, that’s awful.’

He shrugged, clearly going for cool nonchalance, but as she continued to look at him he turned away so she couldn’t see his face any more.

‘But he raised you. He must have cared about you in some way,’ she said, quietly.

‘It was a long time ago, Jess. I barely even think about it any more.’

He was lying; she could tell. It was obvious from the clip in his voice and the way his body had become rigid with tension.

She put a hand on his arm but he pulled it away and threw his plate back into the hamper.

‘Is this the kind of thing you’re after to impress your editor?’ he asked, his voice tinged with scorn.

Clearly she’d hit a nerve.

She shook her head quickly. ‘I want to try and understand what it is that drives you, to round the piece out and give a fair and honest representation of you as a person.’

‘Am I not interesting enough to write about without you feeling the need to expose my deepest, darkest secrets?’

‘Of course you are.’

Tears welled in her eyes and a thud of shame landed in her stomach as he turned back and she saw pain and disappointment in his expression.

‘I won’t write about any of that, I promise. I’m sorry for prying. It wasn’t to get some salacious gossip out of you; I was genuinely concerned.’

‘Well, you don’t need to be. I’ve coped fine without your pity up until this point.’

They gazed at each other in silence for a moment, before Xander turned away to look back out across the lake.

Now she was beginning to see the real Xander she felt a desperate urge to keep that side of him as protected as he did, to keep that side of him just for her.

What was happening to her? She’d been so determined not to fall for his charms when she first arrived here and now all she could think about was how to get closer to him, even though she knew there was little chance he’d ever be interested in a real relationship with her.

How could she want someone and some
thing
that terrified her so much?

She picked at her food some more, eventually laying the plate down on the rug in front of her in defeat. It had been delicious, but she just couldn’t bring herself to eat any more of it, not when her stomach felt as if it were full of rolling marbles.

‘You had enough?’ he asked, nodding at her abandoned plate.

‘Er, yeah.’ She was glad he couldn’t see how flushed her face was in the growing darkness.

After packing the remainder of the food back into the hamper in silence, he lay down on the rug and gazed up at the sky.

Jess couldn’t stop looking at him, thinking about how his powerful body would feel under her hands and how overwhelmed by his enigmatic presence she was, despite her determination to keep herself emotionally distant. He did something to her she couldn’t explain.

Turning his head, he caught her gawping at him.

‘Sorry for flipping out like that. Don’t take it personally—I’m just in a bit of a funk today,’ he said.

Shaking herself out of her trance, she fumbled around for the wherewithal to get herself back under control.

‘I can understand why you don’t feel comfortable talking to journalists about your past. It must have been really hard growing up like that.’