Seducing Phoebe (Crimson Romance) (3 page)

“Well are we getting out or are we going to sit here all night and gaze into the darkness?”

He gave a quiet chuckle; he really enjoyed seeing the little glimpses of Phoebe’s sense of humor she shared with him every now and then. He wished she’d do it more often. Sometimes he wondered if she was keeping part of herself away from him.

He got out of the car, walked around to her side, and opened her door before she had the chance to. He held out a hand, ignoring the warmth spreading over him, like it always did when he touched her. There was no way he was going to let her call off the wedding. There was no way he was going to let her leave his life. There was no way their relationship was done.

He didn’t release her hand as they ambled towards the park bench. In any other circumstance, it would be quite a romantic scenario. A moonlight walk in the park, the trees casting shadows, perfect for stealing an illicit kiss or two.

He gave the bench a quick wipe with his free hand, brushing away the leaves that had fallen during the day. He felt a shiver ripple through Phoebe, so he shrugged out of his jacket, hating that he had to release her hand.

“Are you cold?” he asked as he held it out towards her.

“No I’m fine, but thank you.”

He waited until she sat before slipping the jacket back on and joining her on the bench. For the first time in his life he found he didn’t know how to start a conversation with someone.

“I’m not changing my mind, no matter what you say.”

Well that was one way to start it, straight for the jugular. He felt he knew Phoebe really well. He was sure he would’ve noticed if she was having doubts. Prior to the last two weeks, they had spent every possible moment together.

Two weeks ago, the day he’d been unable to meet her for lunch
. The thought hit him again. Two weeks ago something happened in her life that she hadn’t shared with him. The anger that had cooled on the drive to the park flared to life again. He didn’t like it when things were kept from him. After all the secrets kept and lies told by Veronika, he valued honesty.

“What happened two weeks ago?” he asked.

Her gasp was all he needed to know that he’d hit the jackpot with his comment. The big question would be whether she would tell him the truth or evade it.

“Nothing. Nothing happened.” Her voice was high pitched — another sign she was nervous and lying to him.

“Don’t lie to me, Phoebe.”

Even with anger flowing through his veins, his hands itched to cover hers as they fiddled with the strap of her purse, twisting it tightly. He decided to tone his questions down. He wouldn’t get to the bottom of the situation if he badgered her. “Tell me why you don’t want us to get married anymore.”

She stood and started pacing in front of him, creating a slight breeze as she passed him. Her blonde hair was caught up in a loose knot at the back of her head, tendrils escaping and caressing her fine cheekbones. In the dim light she looked ethereal. He couldn’t see her blue eyes, but he imagined they’d be stormy — not clear blue like they were in the throes of passion. The faint fragrance of her perfume wafted towards him. The scent reminded him of the times he’d buried his head in her neck, feasting on the soft skin below her ear, her soft moans of pleasure filling his ears. He clenched his fist against the bolt of desire that coursed through his body, replacing the anger that had been there moments before.

“I think we’re rushing into this marriage,” she finally said. “We hardly know each other. I don’t think I’m ready for the next step.”

Her comment surprised him. He thought they knew each other pretty well. “So how long to do you think you’ll need before you’re ready to take the next step and marry me?”

She stopped her pacing as if surprised he would even suggest a timeframe — and even more that he would wait for her.

“I don’t know.”

He couldn’t take it anymore — he needed to touch her. He stood up and pulled her into his embrace. She resisted, but he stood firm and slowly she softened against him. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of holding her. He leaned back slightly and lifted her face up to him. Through the moonlight he could see the distress in her eyes. He wanted to take away her hurt. Make her smile again.

“Phoebe,” he whispered quietly before he closed the gap and lowered his lips to hers. As much as he wanted to ravage her, he sipped slowly from her soft lips. He broke the contact briefly, before taking them once again. He pulled her tight against his body, moving his hands down her back until he reached the soft curve of her bottom. He squeezed lightly, and thrust his hips slightly against hers, letting Phoebe know just how much he wanted her.

He was about to slip his hands up her body to caress her breasts when he felt her hands pushing against his chest. He lifted his head and took a step back.

“I’m sorry, Marco, but I can’t. I can’t marry you.”

“Why? Why can’t you marry me?”

“I’m not ready.” Her voice broke. “I thought I was, but now I don’t think I am. I’m confused. I don’t know what I want.”

He knew, deep in his gut, that there was more to it than just confused feelings. She was keeping something from him, he was sure of it.

“I’m sure every bride gets cold feet this close to a wedding.”

“Don’t be so condescending,” she snapped at him, and he had to agree — he had sounded condescending. “It’s not cold feet.”

“Then what is it?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“There’s someone else.”

“Are you telling me you’re having an affair? That you’ve been cheating on me?” He asked the questions so quietly. She’d expected an explosion to come out of him; she wouldn’t have blamed him if he had torn her to shreds. But an unnatural calmness seemed to have taken hold of him. Just like in the restaurant, he showed no emotion. It was more frightening than the explosion she’d expected. At least she could deal with anger.

“No, nothing like that.”

“Well, what is it exactly? You say that there’s someone else, but you’re not having an affair.”

“It’s complicated.” Oh God, could she sound any lamer? She usually had a comeback for everything. Tonight she was acting like a waffling wallflower. “I’m not seeing anyone, but someone from my past has come back.”

She could see the wheels turning in his mind, processing what she was telling him. He was a successful architect; he hadn’t gotten that way by not being able to understand what the client was trying to say and then bring their vision to life. Marco knew all about her past with John; he’d seen them together before, at Alex and Sophie’s wedding. After their second date she’d blurted out how John had dumped her and run from her as if his heels were on fire. So many people had warned her John was a player, and she had been so confident that she would be able to keep their relationship casual. A bit of fun where real emotions didn’t get involved. But after seeing Sophie and Alex fall in love, she’d convinced herself that the same thing could happen to her and John. Yeah, she’d been totally wrong there.

“Are you telling me that you are calling off our wedding for the sake of
John Allen
? The same man who all but used you? I didn’t expect you to be so short-sighted, Phoebe.”

Hearing the words from Marco made her sound like she was too stupid to live. That she would willingly risk a guaranteed future with a man who would provide for her and make her feel secure, for the unknown with a man who had already run — without a backward glance — when another opportunity had presented itself to him.

A part of her still wondered if there was more to John’s recent declaration; if she was just a convenient warm body in his life and bed until he found his next adventure, something more exciting than a future with her, to move on to. She knew she had to stop ignoring him. She had to decide once and for all what she wanted from her life, whether she wanted a future with Marco, or to try again with John. But she couldn’t make that decision while engaged to Marco — it wouldn’t be fair. By making a clean break she would have the space to think, and perhaps she could meet up with John again. Talk to him. See if there was still something between them.

No! Breaking up with Marco is the worst thing you could do,
a little voice inside of her head said.
John’s dumped you once; he could do it again with no qualms. Marco would never hurt you. He cherishes you.

She told the voice to shut up. That was the little part of her who still believed in fairy-tale romances and love. She couldn’t trust that voice.

“It’s not like that,” she said, responding to Marco’s question about her leaving him for John.

“Well then, what is it like?” He paused. “Oh, I get it, he told you he loved you and had made a mistake.”

Phoebe was grateful Marco couldn’t see her face. She could feel the heat rising from the base of her neck to the top of her head. She knew deep down she was being silly to believe what John was saying. But his return brought the doubts she hadn’t realized where inside of her to the surface. She had thought she could have a marriage based on companionship; now she wasn’t too sure. She wanted what Sophie and Alex, and her other friend Dawn, who had just fallen in love with her former sweetheart Andrew, had. That once-in-a-lifetime type of love which Hollywood turned into blockbuster movies. You only had to look at those two couples to know that any one of them would do anything for the other person. She wanted that, and she wasn’t sure she was going to receive it with Marco. Dedication, respect, and affection? Yes. Love? No. Forever? Maybe, maybe not.

“It doesn’t matter what he may or may not have said. What matters is that right at this moment, I think marrying you would be a mistake.”

“Why? Why is marrying me such a mistake when, until John Allen turned up again, you were keen to get married?”

She sighed. This was getting harder and harder. “Marco, you asked me to marry you after we’d had the most amazing sex. I was as caught up as you and said yes, and then everything snowballed. John coming back has made me look at our relationship. What if we’re confusing lust with something more meaningful? What if six months down the track you grow tired of me?”

“That won’t happen. I will never tire of you.”

He said the words so confidently she wished she felt the same way.

When in doubt, don’t.
One of Mrs. White’s adages floated across her mind. She grabbed at it and clung on. She couldn’t in good conscience go into a marriage with doubts. She needed to have a clear mind. She knew she could be throwing away the best thing that happened to her, but somehow she didn’t think she was. Somehow she knew she would come out of this a better person.

“It wouldn’t be fair to enter into a marriage with you while I have these doubts.” Phoebe reached for the beautiful diamond ring that encircled her finger. She twisted it off and held it in her hand, giving it one last look. It hurt, but giving it back was the right thing to do. “I’m sorry, Marco, but you need to take this back.” She extended her arm, willing him to reach out and take it from her. But he made no move, other than to stick his hands in his pants pockets.

They stood there like that, not saying anything, for a few moments. She couldn’t stand it any longer, so she took a step forward, reached out, and slipped the ring into the top pocket of his jacket. “There’s nothing more to say. Will you take me home now? Please.”

He gave a short nod and started towards his car. He’d taken two steps before he stopped under the glow of a streetlight and turned to look at her. For the first time since she’d blurted out that she wanted to break off their engagement at the restaurant, emotion showed on his face. The power of it hit her in the stomach. His face looked haunted, and her heart wept at the knowledge that she’d caused him so much pain.

“Just answer me this one thing,” he said. “Have you seen him? Spoken to him?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“It was the day I didn’t meet you for lunch, wasn’t it?”

She nodded, her throat tight, no words able to push past it.

“Will you make arrangements to see him now?”

There was a world of pain in those words. “I don’t know.” She gave a short shrug of her shoulders. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I may go away somewhere. Some place where I can think and sort out what I want.”

Marco didn’t say anything else, just walked to his car. Phoebe followed a few paces behind, wondering what the hell she was going to do and, if she went away, where she was going to stay.

The drive back to her place passed in a tense silence. She was eternally grateful when Marco finally pulled up to her house. She released her seatbelt and twisted to look at him.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door.” The last thing she wanted was to prolong the pain for him, and for her.

“Yes I do.” His tone brokered no argument, so she waited as he got out of the car and opened the door for her. He was always a gentleman. It had taken a while to get used to that sort of action. None of her dates had ever opened her door for her, not even John. She got out of the car and tried not to shiver as Marco’s hand touched the small of her back. She fumbled in her bag for her keys. When they reached her front door, she unlocked and opened it, she didn’t know what to do. It seemed silly to hold her hand out for a handshake. Secretly, she wanted one last kiss. One last taste. One last touch. As if he read her mind he leaned in and placed the softest of soft kisses on her mouth. For endless moments they stood there, only their lips touching, as they gently tasted each other. It was like the sweetest goodbye. When they broke apart, she felt breathless.

“This is not over, Phoebe. Not by a long shot.”

He gave her no chance to counter what he said. He turned and headed back down the path. She watched, wondering if he’d turn around, her heart aching with every foot of distance between them. Without turning back, he got into the car.

I’m doing the right thing.

I’m doing the right thing
.

I’m doing the right thing.

If she chanted it often enough, maybe she could convince herself it was true. But right at that moment her thoughts were jumbled and she hated it. All her life she’d known the right decisions to make — she’d had to if she’d wanted to survive. She knew what to do at her job — how to make the patients forget their injuries for a few minutes. She’d used her humor not only to help them, but also to boost her confidence. She liked the buzz she received when people appreciated her light-heartedness. Yet, when it came to her love life, she’d realized that life wasn’t a party. How many times in her life had it been proven to her that love hurt? That you couldn’t rely on love to keep people by your side. She’d be better off remaining single.