Call Me Cupid: The Guy to Be Seen With / The First Crush Is the Deepest / Too Close for Comfort
- -
- 100%
- +
Not just desperation but longing.
The same kind of longing she’d seen in the mirror all those years ago when she’d first met Daniel. The agitation she’d felt while she’d been pushing her way through the crowd quickly turned to sympathy.
‘I...I...’ Daniel managed to stutter, and suddenly Chloe knew exactly what she had to do.
She hitched the fallen raincoat from round the woman’s elbows and draped it across her shoulders, then she went to stand beside Daniel. After taking a deep breath, she slid her fingers into his.
He did a good job of hiding his flinch of surprise, and a second later his larger, stronger hand closed firmly around hers.
The woman’s slightly glazed expression melted into one of horror. ‘You’re...you’re the girl in the picture,’ she said, her voice high and wavering, ‘on that website...’
Chloe nodded and moved close to Daniel, pressing herself into his side. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’
The woman nodded and clutched the coat around herself. ‘Oh, God,’ she muttered. ‘I feel so stupid.’
Chloe stepped forward, but it seemed Daniel was reluctant to let go of her hand. He still hadn’t moved and his jaw was set in a hard line. She shot him a work with me look and he unclenched his hand enough to let her wiggle her fingers free.
She put her arm around the woman and led her further along the walkway, high above the Wet Tropics zone and through a glass door into another section, away from the staring crowd.
‘I’m so sorry,’ the woman said. ‘I saw that picture of you two online, but there’d never been anything more. I didn’t realise you two... I thought he was available.’
‘It’s okay,’ Chloe said softly. ‘I understand. He...he has this weird effect on people. On women.’
He certainly had a weird effect on Chloe.
Tears slid from between the woman’s lashes. She
nodded and looked at the floor. ‘He just looked like...seemed to be...I don’t know...the kind of man who’d really know how to look after a woman.’ Her head jerked up. ‘Is he?’ she asked, slightly desperately, her fierce gaze demanding Chloe made eye contact.
Chloe didn’t know what to say to that. She hardly knew Daniel, not really. And the truth was she’d been on the receiving end of one of the most humiliating and mortifying moments of her life at his hand. She certainly hadn’t felt very special or looked after at that moment.
But this woman didn’t need to hear that, and there was something in the tone of her question that begged for something positive to cling to from this whole sorry experience.
Chloe spotted a couple of the Kew constabulary slowly making their way towards them. She didn’t know what experiences this woman had had with the opposite sex to get herself in this state, but they couldn’t have been good ones. Maybe she just needed to know that all men weren’t rats, that there were some good ones out there.
She thought about the way Daniel tended his plants, how gentle and patient he could be. Now, if he could bring some of that into his personal life, he really would be a catch. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to give the right answer. She met the woman’s gaze.
‘Yes, he is,’ she said quietly. And as the two constables reached them she reached down and squeezed the woman’s hand.
‘I think she might just need a strong cup of tea and a sympathetic ear,’ she told the constables. ‘No harm done.’
The female officer of the pair smiled and nodded, and Chloe let out a breath. She really hoped the poor woman would get the help she needed.
As for Chloe? Well, maybe she was in need of a little help herself.
No harm done. Really?
She wasn’t so sure about that.
Because she knew that by her actions a few moments ago she’d announced to the onlookers, including Kew staff, and maybe even to the whole world—via the considerate people who’d silently recorded the whole episode on their smartphones—that she and Daniel Bradford were a couple.
* * *
The crowd, who were far too nosey to disperse, watched along with Daniel as Chloe re-entered the Wet Tropics zone and walked back towards him. Her chin was high and her make-up perfect. She looked so in control, so assured...
So different from that crazy woman in the raincoat.
The contrast soothed his soul.
At least, it did until she was right in front of him. Just as she reached him he saw a flicker of something else behind the perfection, something in her eyes as she looked up at him—uncertainty, blended with a pinch of nerves.
That shook him.
For weeks now she’d had him convinced that she was impervious, iron-clad. Chloe Michaels was merely a delectable package he was itching to unwrap. A prize to be won. So it was a shock to be reminded that she was a real woman, one maybe, that still had all the idiosyncrasies and puzzling insecurities they seemed to be preprogrammed with.
But then the something he’d seen was gone, and she was back to normal—all gloss and glamour. All colour and scent. He breathed out, relieved that she’d tucked whatever it was he’d seen away, out of reach, and he didn’t need to worry about it any more.
He didn’t say anything to her, just closed the distance between them, caught her hand in his, then led her out of the Princess of Wales Conservatory.
Once outside they kept walking, still joined, far away from the glasshouse, up the Broadwalk and on. They stopped briefly by the lake in front of the vast Palm House.
‘We need to talk,’ he said, ‘about what just happened back there.’
She nodded.
‘Somewhere private,’ he added.
They turned their heads in unison and looked at the Victorian marvel of curved white iron and thin panes of glass not more than a hundred feet away. Although it was one of the prime visitor spots at Kew, and unlikely to be empty, it was filled with drooping plants and massive leaves. Daniel knew there were plenty of places to hide if one knew where to go.
Once inside, he ignored the ‘No Entry’ sign at the bottom of one of the ornate spiral staircases that led from the floor of the Palm House to the gallery that ringed the dome. ‘They’ve just finished trimming the giant bamboo,’ he explained, ‘so we should be the only ones up here for now.’
Chloe nodded and let him pull her up the stairs, unable to say anything sensible. She’d been fine while the whole drama had been unfolding back in the Princess of Wales Conservatory, cool as the proverbial cucumber, but now, as the damp heat of the tropical greenhouse seeped beneath her clothes and moistened her skin, she couldn’t stop thinking about the woman in the raincoat.
The way the crowd had looked at her, with a mixture of curiosity and disgust... The poor woman had seemed so lost and desperate. How had she not known that what she was about to do would be a horrible mistake?
The heels of Chloe’s boots clanged on the scrollwork metal steps and she shifted her weight so she was treading on the balls of her feet. She felt as if she’d left her stomach on the iron-grated floor below them. The air grew hotter and wetter, making it hard to gulp it in as she climbed.
Ten years ago, was that how Daniel had seen her? Had he felt that same mix of revulsion and pity? She shivered at the thought.
They’d reached the top of the curling staircase and she paused, taking in a steadying breath before following Daniel down the narrow gallery until they were almost completely hidden from view by a giant palm and a bushy cannonball tree.
Daniel turned and looked at her.
Yes, this was the expression she wanted to see on his face. Not a hint of revulsion. Slighty perplexed, if anything, because he’d lost that perpetual frown and his expression was the most open she’d ever seen it.
‘Thank you for what you did back there. I had no idea how to handle that gracefully. After Georgia...I just didn’t want to say the wrong thing.’
Chloe couldn’t help but smile, just a little. Hanging off bridges and scaling mountains were what Daniel Bradford was graceful at. The interpersonal stuff, not so much.
He shook his head. ‘This whole thing, ever since that stupid radio show, has been crazy.’
‘I’m hoping today’s particular manifestation was a one-off,’ Chloe said, feeling less scorn for the woman than was coming out in her voice. For some reason, she didn’t want Daniel to know that she’d identified with the poor soul at all.
He shook his head, looked away for a second, and the tug on her hand as his weight shifted reminded her he hadn’t let go of it. She should step back, make it look natural, but she should break contact.
She should. But she didn’t.
‘I don’t know how I’m going to take nine more months of this.’
‘Nine months?’ She wrinkled her brow. ‘I didn’t realise there was a set timescale for Valentine’s-related insanity. Or an expiry date.’
One corner of his mouth twisted. ‘No, it’s not that. I’m getting out of here—going on the expedition with the South Asia team. Early next spring I’ll be back in Borneo and all this so-called civilisation will only be a distant nightmare.’
Nine months? Chloe didn’t like the way her chest squeezed at that thought.
‘It’ll die down,’ she said.
He frowned. ‘That’s what I thought at first but, if anything, it’s getting worse.’
‘I heard your ex on the radio yesterday,’ she said, ‘doing her monthly spot about her bounce-back year.’
Daniel looked thunderous. ‘I can’t really hold it against her—the radio station is making her do it—but it’s the broadcasting equivalent of a full moon. Brings out all the crazies...’ His expression softened. ‘You helped, though. That woman backed off when she thought we were together.’
Chloe nodded. ‘I guess the cat’s out of the bag—even if it was an illusory bag and an illusory cat. No comment isn’t going to cut it now.’
He gave her an uneven smile. ‘If today was anything to go by, No comment wasn’t cutting it anyway.’
There was that.
She sighed and gently slid her hand out of his. He didn’t stop her. Then she turned and rested her forearms on the gallery rail and stared out over the Palm House, even though, because of the secluded spot they’d chosen, much of what she could see was the dark waxy leaves of the bushy tree in front of her. It was so hot up here. Her jumper was starting to cling and her fringe was growing damp against her forehead.
‘So what do you want to do about it?’ he asked, then leant on the rail beside her, mirroring her pose.
For a long time neither of them said anything but, eventually, a seed of an idea dropped into Chloe’s brain from somewhere, floating on the wind. A few minutes later it had grown into a little green shoot of a plan, new and fresh and unexpected. She didn’t want to see any more women suffering the way that lady had today. And she didn’t think Daniel deserved the embarrassment, either.
She pushed her weight back onto her feet and straightened. ‘Let’s make it work for us,’ she said.
He turned to look at her, clearly unconvinced that was possible. ‘How?’
She took a deep breath. Her heart began to pump faster. This must be what it feels like for them, she thought, for the guys, when they’re gathering up the courage to ask a girl out.
But this wasn’t like that. Not really. Because she wasn’t really asking him out; she certainly wouldn’t risk being refused by Daniel a second time.
So she swallowed her nerves down, then looked him in the eye. ‘I have a proposal for you.’
FIVE
Alarm filled Daniel’s eyes. Chloe could practically hear the word proposal ringing round his head. He was feeling panicked? Good. At least that meant they were on even ground now.
‘Not that kind of proposal,’ she added wearily.
Daniel folded his arms across his chest and leaned back on the opposite railing, close to the curved glass of the Palm House’s roof. ‘What do you mean, then?’
Chloe swallowed. ‘Have dinner with me,’ she said, her heart pumping. ‘Or something else. Once a month—just before Georgia does her latest radio segment. Just like today, it might keep the crazies at bay.’
He blinked slowly. ‘You said you didn’t think it was a good idea to go out with me.’
She nodded. ‘I’m not suggesting we date, just that once in a while we let ourselves be seen together in public, let everyone join the dots. It won’t be our fault if they draw entirely the wrong picture.’
‘And at work?’
‘We do what we’ve been doing. Keep it cool and professional. People will think that we’re trying to be discreet.’
He stared at her for the longest time. Chloe held her breath and refused to fidget. No way was she going to let him see how nervous she felt. She was very glad she let go of his hands now, because her palms were sweating.
It’s not real. You’re not asking him out on a real date...
‘Why are you doing this for me?’ he asked warily.
She shook her head. She didn’t know, really. It was stupid. Crazy.
You do know, a little voice inside her head whispered. You want an excuse to spend time alone with Drop-Dead Daniel, so you can make believe, torment yourself...
No. That wasn’t it. She couldn’t let that be it.
‘Someone told me about your sister,’ she finally said. That was true. ‘Let’s just say I thought you could do with a break.’ That was also true. It just hadn’t been in her head when she’d put her proposition to Daniel.
His lips pressed together. ‘I don’t need your pity,’ he said coldly, and he pushed himself up from the railing and walked off down the gallery.
Chloe let out a huff of frustration and then trotted after him. Damn male pride...
‘It’s not pity,’ she said crossly as she closed in on him. ‘It’s a friend helping a friend. That’s all.’
He stopped, pivoted around to face her. ‘Friends? That’s all?’
She nodded, not trusting her mouth to toe the party line.
He looked beyond her, up to the vast curving glass and ironwork ceiling. Despite his knee-jerk temper, he seemed to be chewing it over.
‘I do confess I’m not being completely altruistic,’ she added, finally finding something sensible to say, something much more slick and smooth and Chloe to say. The sort of thing he’d come to expect from her—ambivalent, flirty, slightly mocking. ‘After all, you’ll be paying for dinner.’ And then she smiled brightly at him, just to prove there was nothing to worry about, that he needn’t be scared of her getting the wrong idea and joining the ranks of his stalkers.
Amusement warmed his previously stony expression. ‘Oh, I am, am I?’
She nodded again. This time because her mouth wasn’t working, not because she was scared it was about to take off on its own.
There was something about his manner that completely changed. One moment he had been closed off, cold, almost backing away from her. But now there was fire in his eyes and even though she’d swear he hadn’t moved he seemed to be getting closer.
Suddenly her cheeks felt very hot. She looked up at him, almost leaning over her.
‘D-Daniel? What are you doing?’
‘If it’s my money we’re going to be spending, my life we’re going to be messing around with, then I get to say what goes.’
Her chin bobbed up and down. She got that. Daniel had been completely blindsided by the morning’s events. He felt out of control. This request was just about reclaiming lost ground, that was all. She could let him have that much.
But then Daniel stepped towards her, pressing his body up against hers, pinning her between him and the wooden rail at her waist. His hands clutched the rail either side of her, his strong, taut arms preventing escape, and Chloe realised just how off her calculation of the situation had been.
It wasn’t lost ground he was about to claim, but her.
He paused for a moment, just as his lips were millimetres from her. Her pulse lurched and her breath came in uneven bursts.
And then he was kissing her, expertly wiping any protest away with his firm lips. Chloe clung to his shirt for support. The difference in their height meant she felt she was arching back over the railing, feeling as if she’d fall at any moment.
But even that fear was quickly erased by the sensations erupting through her body. Sweet heaven, this was better even than she’d imagined it would be. He knew just when to take, just when to tease... Just how to leave her breathless and dizzy, even without the use of his hands, which were still making sure she stayed right where he wanted her.
If Chloe had been able to string a coherent sentence together, she’d have been able to tell him it wasn’t necessary. As much as her brain was screaming for her to run, her body had been waiting too long for this. It was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
And enjoy it she did. Pretty soon her hands were unclenching from Daniel’s T-shirt, exploring his rather fine chest, reaching up to pull him closer so she could really lose herself in him. Suddenly, she was claiming him back. And, damn, if that didn’t just turn him on more. He moved his hands to her waist and for a second she thought he was going to lift her up and sit her on the rail. She grabbed him tighter, hoping he’d remember where they were, just how far she could fall if he lost concentration and let go.
She could feel him starting to lift her, his hands tightening around her ribs. She stiffened, and her eyes flew open, just in time to see him cock an eyelid. He pulled away, a decidedly wicked smile on his face, looking far more pleased with himself than a man had a right to after just such a stunt.
Even though she was pressing into him rather than leaning back over the railing, she still clutched onto him. At least she did until another noise filtered through her consciousness. She turned her head, slightly dazed, to find a small group of people on the ground staring up at them. Some of them were wearing the distinctive blue polo shirts with Kew’s embroidered logo.
Drat. She’d forgotten they’d moved out of the cover of their secluded little corner.
Smiling nervously, she lifted her hand and gave them a little wave. They responded with a round of applause and a couple of wolf whistles.
She turned back to Daniel, keeping her eyes on his chest, and carefully smoothed his T-shirt flat with her palms before gathering the courage to look up at him.
‘I thought the plan was to keep it discreet,’ she said shakily.
Daniel’s grin became even broader. Damn the man for enjoying this!
‘Plans change,’ he said, not in the least bit repentant. And then he stepped away and made tracks to the spiral staircase, whistling as he went.
Chloe walked forwards and rested her forehead against the misty glass on the other side of the gallery. Not only had she not kept her distance from Daniel Bradford, but she’d actually proposed spending more time with him. Alone. In what messed up universe did that idea make sense?
She pressed her fingertips to her lips. She’d never had much self-control where Daniel had been concerned, and now look where it had got her. She’d made herself a trap, and she had no idea how she was going to climb out of it.
* * *
He found her in the orchid nursery the next morning, working on a plant she’d been growing from a seed that had lost its label during a collections trip. They needed to confirm what species it was, but until the plant flowered it was impossible to know. This one was stubbornly refusing. But Chloe knew all about being stubborn, didn’t she?
The slight hesitation in her movement told him she’d heard him coming, but she carried on with her work. Not ignoring him, just finishing what she was doing. Indifferent, almost.
When she was ready she put the pot down and cocked an eyebrow. ‘Well, if it isn’t Indiana. Here to pound your chest?’
Daniel grinned at her. The way he was feeling this morning, a little chest pounding wouldn’t be amiss. ‘Don’t know what you mean.’
‘That’s what that kiss was about, right? Putting on a good show, some macho attempt to mark me as yours?’ She shook her head. ‘All those jungle plants you work with must have activated your dormant monkey brain.’
Ouch. He was used to her being witty; he just hadn’t realised she could be so cutting with it. But he liked cutting. It was way better than polite and impervious.
‘Pretty much,’ he said, looking her up and down. Today she was the smartest and slickest he’d ever seen. The pencil skirt had made a reappearance, along with a dark pink top and the trademark red lips.
He was lying, though. He hadn’t had a plan. Not of any shape or any kind. He’d kissed her because he’d wanted to, because she’d been driving him crazy for weeks and he hadn’t been able not to.
Since Valentine’s Day he’d been at the mercy of the situation not of his making and he hated that. And, while Chloe’s idea had merit, it felt an awful lot like being rescued. He hated that more. If anyone was going to be doing the rescuing it was going to be him.
So when the urge to kiss her had hit, he’d gone with it, had taken back control in one swift and delicious move. He wasn’t prepared to regret it. Not after the way she’d responded to him. That had been no play-acting for the audience below. She’d been right there with him, dragging him deeper.
Indifferent? Yeah, right.
Chloe Michaels might do a good job of painting it that way on the surface, but underneath she was as hungry for him as he was for her. She just didn’t want to admit it. Daniel didn’t really care why. Not now he knew it was game on again—and that he’d had the first victory.
‘Well, I’m glad that you got whatever it was out of your system,’ she said starchily and turned her attention back to her orchid.
He moved a little closer. ‘No action replays?’
She pursed her lips and scowled at him. ‘I know the London press thinks you’re God’s gift, Indiana, but I think it’s gone to your head. You’re starting to believe your own hype.’
Daniel just chuckled. He so wasn’t. But Chloe was acting as if he were as sexually neutral as that plant she was tending. He had a point to prove.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘If you don’t like my idea, we’ll scrap the whole thing. Good luck with the next raincoat flasher, though.’
‘I didn’t say I was backing out.’
Far from it.
‘Well, then. We keep it on my terms,’ she said. ‘Strictly platonic. No more stunts like the one in the Palm House yesterday.’
‘What if you cave and end up kissing me senseless?’
She made a scoffing noise. ‘Not going to happen.’
He shrugged. ‘Whatever you say. But if you give me the signals, I’m not going to ignore them.’
She let out a dry laugh. ‘You are so big-headed! And so wrong.’
He so wasn’t. But this was what he’d been waiting for from her. This was all part of the fun, the push and pull of the chase, letting her think she was in charge, when actually he was reeling her in bit by bit. She’d change her tune soon enough.
‘How about that little Italian restaurant for our next outing?’ he said.
Chloe’s expression reminded him of how his grandmother used to look at him over the top of her glasses. Even that made him want to whistle again. Oh, he was going to have so much fun with her. She was going to be worth every bit of this torturous wait.
Because he’d realised what he’d told Alan at the pub was true. There was more than one way to hunt. Chloe obviously didn’t respond to the more direct approach—that only sent her running—so he was going to have to be more clever, more subtle. Just like his plants, he was going to make himself so irresistible to her that she wouldn’t be able to help herself.
He thought of the species of Sarracenia whose tall pitchers contained narcotic liquor, drugging the insects it captured so they didn’t even consider escaping. Chloe would be like one of those happy little flies when he’d finished with her.
‘No Italian,’ she said. ‘I don’t think the grapevine needs any more convincing at present. Yesterday did the trick quite nicely.’ She picked up the pot and examined the moisture level. ‘When’s Georgia’s next on-air segment?’