In the Australian's Bed. Miranda Lee
Bridge.
‘I won’t miss this when I move to the country,’ Dorothy had declared impatiently, which had rather amused Jake at the time. She should see how bad the traffic was in peak hours on a weekday. If there was an accident on the bridge, or in the tunnel, the lines of traffic didn’t crawl. They just stopped.
But that was city living for you.
Jake had declined Dorothy’s invitation to come in for a bite to eat, and now here he was, unfed and unable to relax, becoming increasingly agitated and angry. With himself.
He’d handled Angelina all wrong today. He’d come on to her way too strong, and way too fast. That might work with city babes in wine bars on a Friday night, but not girls like Angelina. Even when she was fifteen, she hadn’t been easy. She’d made him wait, forcing him to make endless small talk that summer before finally agreeing to meet him alone.
He could see now that her still being attracted to him in a physical sense wasn’t enough for her to drop her current boyfriend and go out with him. She claimed she was a modern woman who’d been around, but he suspected—like Dorothy—that Angelina was not as sophisticated as she thought she was. She had an old-fashioned core.
She was going to say no when he finally rang her. Nothing was surer in his mind. And the prospect was killing him.
He had to change his tactics. Hell, he was a smart guy, wasn’t he? A lawyer. Changing tactics midstream came naturally to him.
Go back to square one, Jake. Chat her up some more. Show her your warm and sensitive side. You have to have one. Edward said you did. Then you might stand a chance of winning, if not her heart, then her body.
And don’t wait till tomorrow night to call. Do it now. Right now, buddy, whilst she can still remember how it felt today when you touched her hand, and looked deep into her eyes and talked about spending a whole weekend together.
If it was even remotely what you felt—what you are still feeling—then she has to be tempted.
Jake’s hand was unsteady as he took out his wallet and extracted the card where she’d written down her telephone numbers. He had it bad all right. It had been a long time since he’d felt this desperate over a woman. Damn it all, he’d never felt this desperate before!
Except perhaps that summer sixteen years ago. He’d been desperate for Angelina back then too. No wonder he’d been hopeless by the time he’d actually done it with her.
Jake craved the opportunity to show her he wasn’t a hopeless lover now.
But first, he had to get her to say yes to seeing him again. Even lunch would do. She’d said she might go to lunch with him. It wasn’t quite what he had in mind but it was a start.
He dragged in several deep breaths as he walked over to sweep up the receiver of his phone. His hand was only marginally steadier as he punched in her number but he consoled himself with the fact she could not see it shake.
As long as he sounded calm. And sincere. That was all that mattered.
Angelina was sitting on the sofa and painting her toenails, her right foot propped up on the glass coffee-table, when the phone rang. The brush immediately zigzagged across her second toe onto her big toe, leaving a long streak of plum nail-polish on her skin.
The swear-word she uttered was not one she would have used if Alex had been home. Or if her father had been alive.
By the time she replaced the brush in the bottle, poured some remover on a cotton-wool ball and wiped off the wayward polish, then leant over to snatch up the phone from the nearby side-table, it had been ringing for quite a while.
‘Yes?’ she answered sharply. She hoped it wasn’t Wilomena with more advice. She was all adviced out. Besides, she’d already made up her mind what she was going to say to Jake when he finally rang.
‘Angelina? It’s Jake. Have I rung at an awkward moment?’
Jake. It was Jake!
‘You weren’t supposed to ring till later in the week,’ she snapped, hating it that just the sound of his voice could make her stomach go all squishy.
‘I couldn’t wait till then to apologise,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight.’
‘Apologise for what?’ Her voice was still sharp.
His, however, was soft and seductive.
‘I was out of line today.’
‘Were you really?’ Now her tone was dry, and sarcastic.
No way was she going to be all sweetness and light. She was still seriously annoyed with him for turning up in her life at this particular point in time and making her make difficult decisions.
‘I was pushy and presumptuous, as you said. My only excuse is that I didn’t want to let you get away from me a second time. I really liked you sixteen years ago, Angelina, but I like the woman you’ve become even better.’
She laughed. ‘Wow, you’ve really become the master of the polished line, haven’t you? But you can save the flattery for another occasion, Jake. I’ve already decided to have lunch with you on Saturday.’
The dead silence on the other end of the line gave Angelina some satisfaction that she’d been able to knock him speechless. Unfortunately, now that she’d voiced her decision out loud to him, the reality of it shook her right down to her half-painted toes.
But the die had been rolled. No going back.
‘Great!’ he said, sounding much too happy for her liking. ‘I’m already looking forward to it. But does—er—Alex know?’
‘I spoke to him earlier this evening. We talked about you.’
‘What did you say? I’ll bet you didn’t tell him how we first met.’
‘Alex already knows all about you, Jake. There are no secrets between us.’
‘And he agreed to your going to lunch with me?’
‘Why should he object to a platonic lunch between old friends?’
‘Old flames, Angelina. Not old friends.’
‘Whatever. A lot of water has gone under the bridge since then, Jake.’
‘I’ll bet you didn’t tell him everything I said to you today.’
What could she say to that?
‘You didn’t, did you?’ Jake continued when she remained silent. ‘No man—not even your pathetic Alex—would willingly let his girlfriend go to lunch with another man who’d declared his wish to make her his woman.’
Angelina could not believe the passion in Jake’s words. And the power. How easy it would be to forget all common sense and tell him that she had changed her mind, that she would not only go to lunch with him on Saturday, but she would also stay at his place on the Saturday night.
Dear heaven, she was going to make a fool of herself with him again. Or she might, if she went to lunch with him on Saturday as things stood. If he could do this to her over the phone, what could he do to her when she was alone with him in the big bad city?
She had to tell him about Alex. Right here and now. It was the only way she could protect herself against her susceptibility to this man.
‘Jake, there’s something I have to tell you,’ she began, then stopped as she struggled for the right words. He was going to be shocked out of his mind. And furious with her for playing word games with him. How she could possibly explain why she’d done such a thing? She was going to look a fool, no matter what she said, or did.
‘Alex doesn’t know you’re going to lunch with me at all, does he?’ Jake jumped in.
‘Er—no. He doesn’t.’
‘You