Modern Romance October 2018 Books 5-8. Trish Morey

He would find someone but she knew in her heart that he would not want someone who was as emotional as she had turned out to be.

      Far from being the level-headed woman she’d imagined she was, love had turned her to mush and she wasn’t ashamed of it.

      Even though she knew that hurt was lurking around the corner, waiting for her.

      He produced the laptop from where it had been residing under a bundle of discarded clothes on a chair in his bedroom with a grin of triumph and turned to her. ‘First time this hasn’t been at my fingertips.’

      ‘You were in a hurry last night.’ She forced herself to grin back, keeping it light.

      ‘So I was,’ he murmured, dumping the computer and making his way back towards the bed to lean over her, then dropping a kiss on her forehead. ‘You do that to me.’

      ‘Make you want to run?’ Rose teased, playing with words.

      ‘I can’t get to you fast enough.’

      Art looked at her for a few serious seconds and Rose had the feeling that there was something he wanted to tell her. A cold chill spread through her but she kept smiling, keeping it light. There could only be one thing he could have wanted to tell her that would have put that serious expression on his face and those words were not ones she wanted to hear. She swallowed down the nasty lump of desperation.

      ‘Stay in bed with me,’ she urged. ‘Surely work can wait.’

      ‘Not this.’ He was still looking at her with that expression on his face.

      ‘Big deal you have to close? I can’t imagine there’s any deal big enough that you can’t ignore it for a few more minutes.’

      His expression lightened. ‘And to think I’ve always prided myself on being the kind of guy who can hold out for longer than a couple of minutes...although,’ he mused, ‘fast and furious does hold a certain appeal, I have to admit.’ He sighed, glanced at his cell phone and looked at her again with that pensive expression, thinking thoughts she couldn’t begin to fathom. ‘Unfortunately, this has nothing to do with work, as such...’

      ‘Why am I getting the feeling that you’re speaking in riddles?’

      For a few seconds Art remained silent and during those few seconds Rose felt her heart clench tightly, painfully in her chest. Now was the time for her to voice her thoughts and either give him permission to walk away or else pre-empt his departure by announcing hers first.

      She was spared any decision because just at that moment his phone buzzed. He looked at the number, then at her.

      ‘Private call,’ he said lightly, turning away.

      He’d never done that before. Fighting down a wave of nausea, Rose hurriedly leapt out of the bed the second he had left the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. She flew into the bathroom and had a very quick shower. She was dressed and ready for the day and he still had not returned.

      Was the call so important that he had to take it at this ungodly hour, without even taking time out to get dressed?

       Was it another woman?

      She knew that he had conference calls at strange hours from people in a different time zone, but he had always been fully prepped for those. He’d always conducted them in front of his computer, accessing information while talking to whoever might be on the line.

      This was...different.

      Rose couldn’t credit that he might sleep with her whilst having something going on with someone else. He just wasn’t that kind of guy, but then maybe, quite by chance, he had met someone in the last day or so. Was that so tough to believe? Hadn’t she already come to the conclusion that he was a changed man, even though he might not see it for himself? A man more open to the possibility of letting someone into his life? A suitable woman.

      People gave out vibes without even realising it. Had he projected some sort of availability-to-the-right-woman vibe?

      Tense with anxiety, she stood back and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was nothing special, however much he might wax lyrical about her sexiness.

      She was tall and rangy and her looks, such as they were, were unconventional.

      Was his private call with a woman with more to offer in the looks department? Was he returning to his comfort zone after his brush with a girl from the wrong side of the tracks?

      She found him in the kitchen and he was no longer on the phone. He was also no longer buck naked but had a towel slung around his lean hips. He must have nabbed it from the spare bathroom while he had been strolling to the kitchen.

      Coffee was on the go.

      He was so drop-dead gorgeous. So sinfully sexy. So horribly addictive. She remembered that she had fallen for him within five minutes of meeting him. So much for her much-prized defence system when it came to the opposite sex!

      ‘What was that about?’

      Art stilled. He’d been reaching for a couple of mugs and he paused for a fraction of a second.

      ‘Coffee?’

      ‘You’re not going to answer?’

      Rose was dismayed at the shrill, demanding tone of her voice. She had aimed for banter mingled with amused curiosity. She had ended up with shrewish nag but she couldn’t claw her way back from the question and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. If he was going to break it off with her because of some other woman then he should have the decency to come right out and tell her.

      She shouldn’t have to second-guess.

      ‘I didn’t think that sharing my private phone calls was part and parcel of what we had.’

      Rose flushed. ‘Who was it?’ she was horrified to hear herself ask.

      ‘I think this is a conversation best put on hold,’ Art said coolly.

      ‘And I happen to think that I deserve an answer. If it was a personal call with another woman, then I deserve to know. I realise this isn’t anything serious but I’m not interested in sleeping with anyone who’s seeing someone else on the side.’

      ‘Is that what you think?’ he asked quietly.

      Rose hesitated but, like someone who had crossed a certain line, she was now doomed to carry on walking that road. And besides, she roused herself to a place of self-righteous justification, she did deserve to know if he was thinking about ditching her for someone else!

      ‘How do I know what to think if you won’t tell me what’s going on?’ she muttered.

      ‘I’m going to get changed.’

      ‘You’re walking away from an uncomfortable conversation,’ she challenged but he was already heading back to the bedroom and after a while she tripped along behind him.

      Art stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her, eyes flint-hard. ‘I don’t do this,’ he said calmly.

      Rose returned that gaze with one that was equally cool. ‘Do what, Art?’ She folded her arms, determined to brave out what she knew was going to be their final conversation. ‘Discuss anything you might find a little awkward? I know this isn’t about love and commitment, but it should be about respect and if you respected me you wouldn’t baulk at having this conversation.’

      Rose hoped that he would read nothing in her eyes that gave the lie to that statement because when it came to love she was drowning under the weight of it. Pride would never allow her to admit that, however. She was going to leave but she would leave without him ever having cause to think that he had had a narrow escape from yet another needy woman who had foolishly disobeyed his Do Not Trespass signs and developed unacceptable feelings towards him.

      He had let slip in conversation the headaches he had had with a couple of previous girlfriends who had wanted him to meet the parents, who had mentioned