What His Money Can’t Hide (12 page)

‘Is that how you felt when your unscrupulous ex-boss fleeced you of your life savings …
compassionate
?’

Hearing the almost cruel mockery in Drake’s tone, Layla hugged her arms over her chest even more, needing to protect herself.
Had she pushed him too far and too soon in getting him to talk about his past?
What if her kindly meant questioning to get him to open up a little about himself so that they might forge a closer bond had done nothing but turn him against her and made him suspicious of her motives? If they didn’t have trust then they had nothing worth having at all.

‘No,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t feel remotely compassionate
towards him. I was too busy blaming him for cheating me and blaming myself for being an idiot for trusting him in the first place … for being so gullible in trusting my savings to his little scheme and for letting him seduce me.’

‘He got you drunk.’

Unhappily she nodded her head. ‘Yes, but I let him. I could have said no to him, but he was a charmer and I fell under his spell. Anyway, that aside, after some time had gone by I definitely felt as though I’d learned a lesson I’d never forget. For a start, I’d have loved to give the money I had to Marc, to help the business. As for my boss, I know that if he carries on cheating people like he does then inevitably life will teach
him
an invaluable lesson. A lesson that will hopefully make him reflect on his behaviour and stop him seeking to advance himself by exploiting anyone else.’ She chewed thoughtfully down on her lip, then smiled uncertainly. ‘At least that’s my hope.’

Drake started to pace the polished wooden floor, the expression in his fascinating grey eyes suggesting they were reaching internally for some longed-for escape route … perhaps a time warp that could transport them back to the moment when he’d first walked into the room with their coffee, when he might have told Layla he’d changed his mind about having their little discussion.

All her instincts cried out for her to go to him and hold him tight, to tell him how courageous he’d been to reveal the cruelties of his childhood, but sensing he was still tormented by his frank and painful admission
she stayed where she was, not wanting to risk upsetting him further.

Coming to a sudden standstill, he swept his still restless gaze up and down her figure. ‘What made you decide to take the contraceptive in the end?’ he asked.

‘Why? Did you think I wouldn’t take it and just pretend that I did?’

‘No. I never thought you’d try and deceive me. I just …’

‘What, Drake? I’m sensing there’s something you want to ask me.’

‘When you think about the future, do you ever think about having children?’

Breathing out a relieved sigh, Layla couldn’t help smiling. ‘Of course … One day I’d love to be a mum.’

‘One day when the “right man” comes along, presumably?’

Now his voice was rough-edged and cynical and it made her heart bleed.

‘If by the right man you mean a man that I love with all my heart and want to be with for the rest of my life, then, yes … that’s when I’ll be ready to become a mum.’

Drake’s eyes bored into her like a laser. ‘My ex-girlfriend wanted children.’

‘She did?’

‘That was one of the reasons we broke up. She wanted them and I didn’t. And, more importantly, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with her, so there was no way I’d make her the mother of my children. When I explained my reasons to her as diplomatically as I could, apart from accusing me of being emotionally crippled and totally insensitive for not understanding
her desire for marriage and children, she said I was the most spectacularly selfish man she’d ever met and didn’t doubt that I’d end up alone.’

Layla’s heart bumped with sorrow and dread as she waited for him to continue.

A corner of his mouth quirked painfully. ‘She was right.’

‘Sometimes it helps us to have clarity when we know what we
don’t
want,’ she commented softly, the dread she’d felt inside that he might have stated that he would
never
want marriage or children slowly and thankfully subsiding.

‘It does indeed.’

‘So how
do
you feel about having children if you—if you meet the right woman?’

‘It would definitely be something I’d consider.’ He gave her a sheepish look. ‘I used to think I’d never want a family. Maybe it’s my age, but now I don’t think I’d be as closed to the idea as I was before. Shall we leave it at that and get out of here for a while?’

The glimmer of some unspoken urgent idea was evident in Drake’s animated gaze, and apart from what he’d just revealed about the possibility of being open to the notion of having children it made Layla’s heart race.

‘Why? Where do you want to go?’

‘I’ve heard that it’s going to be an exceptionally clear night. I’d like to take you to my office and show you that view of the stars through the glass roof.’

Remembering how surprised and moved she’d been when he’d told her that he sometimes turned out the lights if he was working late and the stars were bright, she felt a genuine thrill of anticipation.

‘All right,’ she agreed, smiling, ‘I’ll go and get my coat.’

‘Layla?’

‘Yes?’

‘I didn’t mean it when I accused you of being smug earlier. I was just … I was just angry that you got me to talk about that stuff. But now—now I’m glad that you did.’

Walking up to him, she gently touched his unshaven cheek with the tips of her fingers and tenderly laid her lips over his mouth. Straight away she sensed the heat they stoked into flame between them—but before she let it consume her, she lifted her head and told him, ‘I think you telling me about your childhood was the bravest thing I’ve ever heard.’

His arms tightened possessively round her waist. ‘You’re good for my ego, you know that?’

Her eyes were already drifting closed, even before his lips made the fire they’d started to kindle a moment ago burst into uncontrollable flame …

D
RAKE
had laid a blanket and some cushions down on the heated wooden floor in his office, and Layla settled herself down beside him and rested her head in the crook of his arm, staring up in wonder at the cornucopia of dazzling stars that were gloriously twinkling above them through the glass ceiling. He’d been absolutely right when he’d told her that the light they emitted was so bright there was no need to turn on the lamps.

‘What a genius idea to do this,’ she declared enthusiastically, turning towards him.

‘So it’s a genius Iam now, is it?’

For sheer vivacity and beauty, in Layla’s opinion the sparkle in Drake’s haunting grey eyes as he glanced back at her was equal to the array of stars that shone down on them. The realisation that she loved him … loved him with all her heart … struck her absolutely dumb. All she could do right then was stare into his carved handsome face and mentally imprint every beloved feature to memory, so that his image might sustain her whenever they were apart.

‘What is it?’ he asked, frowning, intuiting that something profound had pierced her. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s wrong. As a matter of fact, things couldn’t be more right.’

Somehow she managed to divert him from learning the stunning realisation that had just rocked her world off its axis. She guessed that now wasn’t the right time to share the news—not when he’d already had such a torrid time revisiting his agonisingly painful past. There was also a terrible fear inside her that he might not welcome her revelation—might even reject her if he wasn’t ready to explore the possibility of them having a future together
. She decided that she would bide her time
.

‘I’m just … I’m really enjoying myself, that’s all,’ she said lightly.

‘Me too.’ Reassured, Drake smiled and dropped an affectionate kiss onto her forehead.

For once he looked completely at ease. Even the furrows on his indomitable brow seemed more relaxed.

Layla couldn’t help sighing. ‘Don’t you wish you could capture some of your most magical experiences and keep them for ever? I mean keep them safely locked away in a silk-lined drawer and bring them out whenever you have a bad day or simply need a pick-me-up?’

Hugging her companion’s lean trim waist in the chambray shirt he wore loose over his jeans, she pressed closer into his side, breathing in his earthy masculine smell as though it was the most alluring and compelling perfume she’d ever scented.

He chuckled and she felt his fingers ruffle her hair. ‘Omit the silk-lined drawer, sweetheart, and I totally concur with what you’re saying. This is indeed one of those magical experiences that I’ll never forget. But, for me, this whole weekend has been like that.’

‘Has it? I was afraid I’d ruined everything by getting you to answer questions about your past.’

‘You haven’t ruined anything, and you were entitled to question me. Didn’t I make a promise that I’d talk to you? I’ve come round to thinking that perhaps it was about time I opened up to someone about what happened when I was a kid, even though it was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.’ Drake’s expression visibly softened. ‘I’m glad that it was you I confided in, Layla. I wouldn’t have told anyone else and that’s the truth … not even a trained counsellor. My deepest darkest secrets would have gone with me to my grave.’ His wry smile was reflective.

‘Don’t say that.’ She caught his hand and urgently kissed it. ‘I can’t bear the thought of you being tormented by the past for the rest of your life and never telling anyone … never having any relief from the pain of it. I’m glad you agreed to talk to me, Drake, even though it was painful and difficult.’ Staring deeply into his eyes, she finished, ‘I’m also glad that you don’t hate me for making you share your secrets with me.’

Bewildered, Drake shook his head. ‘I could never hate you … no matter what you did to me. Don’t you know that?’

She emitted a relieved sigh and her lips curved warmly. ‘We’re still friends, then?’

‘Is that all you want to be to me … a friend?’

His lowered husky tone was akin to cream liqueur poured into a cup of the finest dark roast coffee … devastatingly warm and rich with a hint of luxurious velvet that was far too enticing to resist. Before Layla could reply, his lips had alighted on hers with an almost savage
groan, and in the next instant his hot silken tongue was plundering the satin interior of her mouth as his big hands cupped her face and his hard-muscled body moved on top of hers, his superior weight pressing her spine deep into the luxurious woollen blanket he had lain down on the floor.

As far as Layla was concerned it might as well have been a soft feather bed. There was no sense of discomfort at all. How could there be when every ounce of her attention was intimately focused on the man who was once again taking her to a paradise she never wanted to leave, just so long as she could stay there with him for ever?

When they returned to the house and retired to bed, deliciously sated from their ardent lovemaking, Drake didn’t have a single qualm about turning out the light. There was no need to wonder why he suddenly found the normally difficult task easy. The prospect of the black velvet night enveloping him and filling him with dread like it usually did didn’t feature even once in his thinking … at least not with Layla lying beside him. Even though he’d fiercely resisted sharing the truth of his past with her, she had somehow broken through his iron defences to show him how sharing his story could actually
help
him banish the ghosts that haunted him—not make them even more cloying.

For the first time in years he’d discovered the true value of confiding in someone he trusted. But the most important thing that he’d learned from their heart-rending conversation was that the belief he’d had about having to deserve love was completely wrong. As a child,
it had been his fundamental right to be taken care of, Layla had told him. He hadn’t been denied love because he was ‘bad’. It was just that his parents had been incapable of taking proper care of him, and how could that be
his
fault?

Talking about what had happened was already alleviating some of the fearful beliefs that had crippled him for too long. Consequently, with his ravishing dark-haired lover warmly enfolded in his arms, for the first time ever Drake slept the deep dreamless sleep of a man whose resentment and fear of the past was blessedly absent.

That night no dark or agonising dreams came to haunt him, and he felt like the most privileged and blessed man in the world when he woke to the joyful sound of birds singing the next morning and witnessed the sun beaming through the windows to herald a bright new day. If he didn’t pride himself on being an innately logical man he might have said it was a very good omen. An omen that meant psychologically he’d turned an important corner.

Logical or not, he had the strongest urge to share his reflections with Layla. A jolt of panic knifed through him when he saw she wasn’t there. Sitting bolt upright, Drake touched the sheet where her body had lain in sleep. It was still beguilingly warm. Where was she? Taking a shower?

He leapt out of bed and threw open the
en-suite
bathroom door to check. The moist shampoo-scented air in the marbled bathroom told him that she had indeed taken a shower, but had clearly moved on somewhere else. Returning to the bedroom, he pulled on a pair of
clean silk boxers and dragged on his jeans. Barefoot and bare-chested, he hurried downstairs to the kitchen, calling out her name as he went.

‘I’m in here,’ she called back, and when Drake planted himself in the kitchen doorway she turned to him with a smile so beautiful and beguiling that he clean forgot what he’d been going to say to her.

He swallowed hard and cleared his throat, ‘You’re wearing my shirt again,’ he observed, helplessly aroused at the sight of her long bare legs and the provocative outline of her panties, tantalisingly visible through the pristine white cotton.

‘Do you mind?’ Chewing down on her lip, she smoothed her still damp hair away from her face. ‘I just grabbed something to put on after my shower so I could come downstairs and make us some coffee.’

‘You can wear whatever you like that belongs to me.’ Moving towards her, he grinned. ‘Although I’d prefer it if you wore nothing at all.’

‘That’s not a terribly good idea when I’m boiling water.’

‘Are you always so cautious?’ Sliding his hands round her waist, Drake let his hungry gaze drink her in as if she was the finest wine he’d ever sampled. But even the most full-bodied Cabernet Sauvignon or French Bordeaux didn’t have the power to heat his blood like Layla did.

‘Sometimes not cautious enough,’ she murmured, flattening her palms against his chest as if to stop him from getting any closer.

‘Why? Don’t you trust me?’

She lifted an amused dark eyebrow. ‘Not when you
come down to the kitchen looking like you’ve got lascivious intentions in mind rather than wanting to enjoy a cup of my expertly made coffee.’

‘Can’t I have lascivious intentions
and
enjoy your expertly made coffee as well?’

‘I’m sure you can. But my own intentions are to make some toast, because I’m at my hungriest in the morning. By the way, did you sleep all right last night? You certainly looked peaceful when I woke up this morning and saw you. That’s why I decided to let you sleep on for a bit.’

His mouth quirked with a wry smile, ‘I slept like I’d been pleasantly drugged. I can’t recall having even a single dream.’

‘So … there were no nightmares?’

‘None.’ Drake tenderly threaded his fingers through her long damp hair. ‘See what a positive effect you have on me, Ms Jerome?’

‘I aim to please.’

‘Do you indeed?’

A self-conscious tinge of scarlet coloured her cheeks. ‘Seriously, though, I’m so glad you slept better. I hope it becomes a regular feature … the start of a much more relaxed and enjoyable phase of your life. You deserve it, Drake. By the way—I’ve got one more question to ask you.’

‘What’s that?’ A wave of pleasure had rolled through him at her kindness, her genuinely unselfish hopes for his future, but he had a brief moment of trepidation wondering what she might be going to ask him.

‘Do you have any marmalade? It’s just that it’s my favourite thing to have on toast in the morning.’

His relief that her question wasn’t more taxing knew no bounds. With a chuckle, he affectionately pinched the end of her nose. ‘Baby I’ve got whatever your heart desires.’

Unable to resist impelling her against his chest, Drake felt the blood in his veins thrum hotly at the delicious sensory pleasure of her soft feminine curves next to his harder masculine body.

The big long-lashed dark eyes that he’d been so mesmerised by when he’d seen Layla for the very first time widened to saucers. ‘That’s a very beguiling claim, but luckily for you all I want right now is some marmalade.’

‘Is that
really
all you want?’ He slid his hand all the way down her slim back to rest it on her peach-shaped derrière, then pressed her against him so that she could be in no doubt about how much he wanted her. He was so aroused it was painful.

‘You don’t play fair,’ she chastised, wagging her finger schoolmistress-like at him, her voice completely devoid of sympathy. ‘As tempting as you are … as
needy
as you are … I’m afraid I’m going to have to exercise some of that bull-headedness you once accused me of because before I contemplate anything else I
really
need my breakfast.’

Before he could stop her she’d wriggled out of his arms and headed for the bread-bin atop the kitchen counter. He knew it contained the brown seeded loaf that he’d bought at the deli along with their croissants yesterday. Sighing, he realised he would manfully have to subdue his desire—at least until she’d had her breakfast. Clearly there was no stopping the woman when her
mind was set on something. His feelings were a provoking mix of frustration and affection.

‘I’d be a poor host indeed if I didn’t let you eat.’ He smiled and, moving across to the large American-style fridge, extracted an unopened pot of marmalade. ‘Why don’t you make the coffee and let me do the toast?’ he suggested. ‘After that we’ll—’

‘Go back to bed?’ Layla’s chocolate-brown eyes met his with an unwavering amused stare that made Drake’s heart miss a beat.

‘My thoughts exactly,’ he agreed huskily.

It was hard for Layla to accept that their time together was coming to an end. Having already explained that he probably wouldn’t be able to see her this week, due to his colossal workload—not least of all their town’s pressing and much needed regeneration—Drake had definitely looked unhappy when he’d told her. Telling herself she’d just have to accept his absence and pray that the following week might yield a greater possibility of them seeing each other again, Layla fell silent as he drove them home, not trusting herself in case she broke down and confessed that she loved him.

Why did the prospect of saying goodbye to him this evening feel like a death sentence?
she wondered miserably. They’d had such a wonderful day together—laughing and talking and making love till they were breathless and sated, then somehow finding the energy to go down to the kitchen and make themselves something to eat. It didn’t seem right that they should be parted for even an hour, let alone a whole week!

‘Before I drop you home I’d like to show you something.’
Drake’s handsome carved profile was disconcertingly serious as he stared out through the windscreen, making the necessary turn that would take them out of the near deserted high street.

The only occupants in evidence were a couple of local teenagers leaning against a galvanised steel grille shop-front, smoking. Compared to the wealthy and elite part of the capital she and Drake had just come from, the shabby provincial town seemed even more rundown and drab than it usually did.

‘Show me what?’ Layla asked, unable to suppress the feeling of inexplicable apprehension that coiled in the pit of her stomach.

‘The house where I grew up.’

He spared her a brief unreadable glance just as she registered that they were approaching the small shabby side-street whose abandoned terraced houses he planned to tear down and replace with modern ones. The house he drew up outside was a dismal grey terrace with all the windows shattered and broken and a large ‘Keep Out’ sign emblazoned across the dingy charcoal-grey front door. The stone steps that led to the once fashionable arched brick entrance were covered in litter and broken beer bottles, she saw. No doubt some of the population of jobless teenagers and youths hung out there, she thought.