Too Much of a Good Thing?. Joss WoodЧитать онлайн книгу.
to hear that her voice was reasonably steady. ‘Thank you for all your help. As I said, I am in your debt.’
Will’s eyes tracked over her face. ‘If you start remembering anything and you have questions you’re welcome to give me a call at the rugby union. They’ll make sure that I get the message and I’ll get back to you.’
It was a nice offer, Lu thought, noticing that he didn’t give her his mobile number. She wasn’t that out of practice that she didn’t recognise the gentle brush-off. He wouldn’t call again and she could live with that.
After all, she had her own life to get back on track. She didn’t need the distraction of a super-sexy rugby player.
But, damn, how she wished they had had sex. Just one little time and preferably of the blow-your-head-off variety. Just to...you know...clean those cobwebs out...
* * *
Two days later Lu sat on the floor between her leather couch and her coffee table, her laptop in front of her. She was updating her website in an effort to attract more photography work and thought she’d made pretty good progress. The site was hipper and brighter than before, and she liked the photos she’d put on the front page. There was the Johnsons’ newborn baby, stark naked with a bright blue bow tied around his tummy and a tag that read ‘Special Delivery’. Below that was her favourite photograph of a bridal couple, caught in a loving look so profound it made her throat catch every time she looked at it.
She was good at it, she mused. Capable of capturing the essence of the moment. And now that she had the time to devote to it she realised how much she missed being behind a camera. She’d tried to establish herself as a photographer a couple of times over the past decade, but every opportunity had fizzled out. She’d been offered an apprenticeship under one of the better photographers in the city about a year after her parents had died, but when she’d realised that after-hours work and out-of-town shoots were a standard condition of her employment she’d resigned because she had to be at home for the twins.
She’d done small weddings, worked part-time in a photographic studio before it had closed down six months ago, and done some freelance graphic work, but she hadn’t, because of her family situation, been able to land her big break. Her fellow students from photography school were flying and she was ten years behind.
It wouldn’t take much to kick-start her business. She had a studio already outfitted in the cottage next to the main house: lights, props and backgrounds. She just needed the clients to get back on track; she had to make up for all this lost time.
Her mobile buzzed on the floor next to her and she frowned at the unfamiliar number. Debating whether to answer it, she took a sip of wine and wondered whether she felt like speaking to anyone. You’re becoming a hermit, she chided herself as she pushed the green button. Six steps away from becoming that self-conversing, crazy cat lady the twins mentioned.
‘Lu? It’s Will Scott.’
Lu’s eyebrows shot up as her mouth dried up. Of all the people she’d expected to be on the other end of the call Will was last on her list.
‘Um...hi...’
‘I called to see how you were doing? Whether you had any lasting effects from the drug?’
‘No, I’m fine.’
‘Nightmares?’ Will demanded.
‘One or two,’ Lu admitted. ‘Normally when I let myself think about what could’ve happened. Uh...how did you get my number?’
Lu swore that she heard his lips pull up into that super-sexy grin. ‘I swiped one of your business cards from your wallet. I see that you freelance...how’s the photography business?’
‘Slow, actually. I was just updating my site and racking my brain about how to get more clients. How’s the rugby coaching business?’
Will’s sigh was a combination of frustration and weariness. ‘Honestly? Right now it’s a pain in my ass. I have some squad members who have the maturity of a two-year-old.’
Lu leaned back against the couch and took a sip from her glass of wine, happy to hear his voice sliding over her. Her mouth curved. ‘They’ll get used to you.’
‘They don’t have a choice,’ Will stated, his tone resolute. ‘It’s either my way or the highway.’
‘So you’re a dictator?’ Lu teased, and then bit her lip. Lord, what was she saying? She didn’t know him nearly well enough to tease him!
‘Only in my job. I know what I want and exactly how I intend to get it.’
So sure, so confident. She wished she could rub herself against him and have some of that innate self-assuredness rub off on her. Oh, hell, forget anything else, she just wanted to rub up against him, full-stop. He set her nerve-endings on fire... This is why you shouldn’t go so long between dates, Sheppard! When your hormones are invited to a party they head straight for the tequilas and start doing the Macarena.
‘Well, I’ll be rooting for you,’ Lu said, after a longer than normal silence.
‘Thanks,’ Will replied. ‘It’s nearly seven. I’ve been here since six this morning. Any ideas for where I can eat? I can’t face Room Service or takeout.’
‘Are you going to live in that hotel for three months?’ Lu asked.
‘Hell, no. I need to find a flat I can rent, but I haven’t had any time. I’m planning to look around on the weekend.’
‘So...restaurants. What do you feel like eating?’
‘Mac and cheese,’ Will responded promptly.
‘Mac and cheese, huh?’ Lu looked towards the kitchen that sat at the other end of her open-plan lounge. Did she dare? What if he said no? She was mad. Of course he’d say no. But there was a chance—a numpty billion-to-one chance—that he might say yes.
And, because her mother had raised her right, she should do something to say thank you. Yeah, keep telling yourself that’s the reason you are about to invite him over. You might convince yourself in a millennia...or two.
Pull on your brave girl panties, Sheppard.
‘If you’re interested, I can do one better than mac and cheese. I have a lasagne that I made and froze. I can whip up a salad to go with it if you...well, don’t feel obligated...but I feel like dinner is the least I can do for you since you... Um...you’d probably prefer to eat out,’ Lu stammered.
‘Lu?’
‘Mmm? Yes?’ He was going to blow her off. She just knew it.
‘Homemade lasagne sounds really great.’
‘Ah...OK. Good.’ Lu closed her eyes. Eek! Now she would actually have to defrost the lasagne and make a salad. And have a shower and do something with her hair...
‘I could be there in half an hour? That work for you?’
‘Sure.’ She’d prefer an hour to primp, but that wasn’t going to happen. Well, as per usual, make-up would be sacrificed.
‘Do you remember how to get here?’ she asked, almost reluctant to let him disconnect even though she’d see him soon.
‘I have a pretty good sense of direction, but keep your phone close in case I go off course,’ Will told her. ‘What is Lu short for, by the way?’
‘Um...don’t laugh.’ Lu blushed. ‘Tallulah.’
‘Tallulah?’
His tongue caressed her name and Lu shivered.
‘Lu suits you better. See you soon.’
* * *
As Will pushed the button on the intercom outside Lu’s closed gate he thought that the heat and humidity of Durban were obviously frying his brain. What did he think he was going to achieve from this