Just Like in the Movies Page 26

  ‘Luke?’ was all she could manage, still not sure she could believe this was actually happening.

  ‘That’s Hubbell to you,’ he said with a smile. And her heart lifted into her throat.

  ‘I thought you were flying home tonight?’

  ‘I’ve got unfinished business.’

  She laughed, the joyous sound matching the gloriously romantic song as Luke – or rather, Hubbell – held her close and led her in a slow dance in the small space the crowd had made for them.

  She had no idea why he was here. But he’d dressed up for her as a character from the most turgid melodrama in movie history, and made a spectacle of himself in front of everyone, just to give her this precious moment. Surely that had to mean something … wonderful.

  ***

  The rest of the evening went by in a blur.

  He sat through the film with his strong, supportive arm slung around her shoulders, and after it ended … Finally, they snuck away upstairs – with him using the flat’s main entrance for the first time since the day he had come to fix her boiler.

  Leading her down the darkened corridor, he made his way to her bedroom. The fairy lights flickered above the bed as they both got naked.

  Within seconds they were falling on to the sheets she’d changed that afternoon because the scent of him in her bed only made the yearning worse.

  Skin to skin, sigh to sigh, mouth to mouth, lips to flesh, they devoured each other. He touched and tasted her everywhere he knew would get her to gasp, sigh, beg. The first orgasm flowed through her as if it were a right.

  She could feel his urgency, sense his desperation as he plunged into her.

  He worked his hips, hitting the sweet spot he’d found weeks ago and ruthlessly exploited ever since.

  She clung to his shoulders and rode the storm.

  At last, she let herself fall, hearing his deep grunt of completion.

  As she lay in the circle of his arms in the dark room, the flicker of lights shining on sweaty skin, she breathed in the delicious scent of him. There were a thousand things she wanted to say to him, a thousand more questions she wanted to ask. But she swallowed them down and placed her hand on his chest instead, scared to break the spell too soon. Happy just to live in this magnificent moment and hope it meant more.

  He clasped her fingers in his.

  ‘I told you that was the longest damn melodrama in movie history,’ he said.

  And she laughed. ‘I’d have to agree with you now.’

  She snuggled into his side, closed her eyes as his hand settled on her hair.

  ‘Did you iron your hair, too? Like Babs in the movie?’ he asked.

  She smiled, so he had been paying attention. ‘I borrowed Jacie’s straighteners,’ she said, round a yawn.

  ‘Go to sleep,’ he said, dropping a gentle kiss on her forehead.

  She wanted to ask him if he would still be here in the morning but chose not to, in case the answer ruined her happy ending.

  So she allowed her mind to drift, and let her body float. Accepting the fact that whatever happened tomorrow, she would always have this perfect night for the rest of her life.

  PART FIVE

  The Last of the Mohicans (1992)

  Ruby’s verdict: Love is powerful, even in its darkest hour. And especially if you’re trapped behind a waterfall with Daniel Day-Lewis. The most important thing to remember is to be strong, because you will survive, no matter how hard it is.

  Luke’s verdict: Never underestimate the woman you love. However tough you think you are, chances are she’s tougher.

  Chapter 19

  ‘Luke, you’re still here?’

  Luke glanced up from his phone to see Ruby standing in the doorway to her small living room. He steeled himself against the warmth swelling in his chest, making his throat ache.

  Damn, but she was gorgeous to look at first thing in the morning. Her hair all mussed, her eyes sleepy, her skin flushed, her body barely covered by the silky robe she usually threw on to make them breakfast.

  Her face was a picture of conflicting emotions. Relief and hope and happiness, all flitted across her open features, letting him see every one.

  ‘And you’re wearing a suit,’ she added, as her gaze roamed over his clothing.

  He’d woken an hour ago, tiptoed out of her bed and down the fire escape then walked to his house in Notting Hill in his costume from last night – the house he’d only visited to change clothes in the last couple of weeks until the night before last. He’d packed and changed, arranged to have the costume Jacie had hired for him left with the rental shop and the house keys deposited with the agent, then booked a car and driver for the day. He hadn’t planned to return to The Royale. He’d already drafted an email to send to Ruby this afternoon with the details of the settlement he had put together after his conversation with Jacie yesterday afternoon. It had been Jacie’s idea he come to the screening, and he hadn’t even hesitated. He’d wanted to do it. Ruby deserved that moment of acknowledgement.

  But as the driver turned on to Talbot Road on his way to the West End, he’d thought of Ruby still blissfully asleep, and he hadn’t been able to drive past The Royale.

  As a result, the clean break he’d been hoping for had been screwed.

  But right now, absorbing Ruby’s glorious bed hair and the jiggle of her curves under the barely-there robe for the last time, he couldn’t regret it. He wanted to remember her this way, always.

  Although he wished he hadn’t put that desperate hope in her eyes.

  ‘I’ve got a few meetings this morning—’

  ‘You have meetings on a Sunday?’ she interrupted.

  ‘Yeah.’ He forced himself to continue. ‘Then I’m catching an afternoon flight to JFK.’

  She blinked, and the hope died. He wanted to kick himself. Last night had been a dumb idea – selfish and self-indulgent. He didn’t want her to be sad.

  ‘I see,’ she said, but then her lips lifted in a determined smile. ‘Shall I cook you breakfast before you leave?’ she asked.

  He lifted the bag of almond pastries he’d picked up from the bakery next door after deciding to get out of the car. ‘I bought supplies, so we could talk.’

  The sunny smile which had been way too sunny dimmed. ‘What do you want to talk about?’

  Surely there were about a hundred things they could talk about. Starting with how he’d climbed up her fire escape for three weeks straight expecting nightly booty calls – and then walked away without a backward glance on Friday afternoon.

  ‘Is this going to be a long talk?’ she asked, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. ‘Should I make coffee to go with the croissants?’ Without waiting for a reply she shot off towards the kitchen. ‘I hope you got almond ones?’

  ‘Of course, they’re the best ones,’ he said. And I know they’re your favourites.

  How many times had he watched her devour the lush treats, then kissed the stray flakes of pastry and frangipani off her lips?

  The surge of heat was swift and predictable.

  Yeah, not going there.

  He shifted on the seat and tugged some plates out from the stack Ruby kept in the sideboard because there was no room for them in her tiny kitchen.

  He arranged the pastries on one, placed two other plates in the spots they had become accustomed to using, and waited for her to return.

  And ignored the melancholy, at the realisation this would be the last time he’d hear Ruby making coffee in the morning. He’d been prepared for that hit two days ago. How come he was less prepared for it now?

  He could hear her puttering around – filling the kettle, switching it on, waiting for it to boil. Then the aroma of coffee filled the small apartment. But unlike every other morning, she wasn’t humming a show tune.

  At last she reappeared with a steaming coffee pot and a couple of cups.

  Before he had a chance to begin the speech he’d planned, she dashed back to collect a carton of milk. And a teaspoon.
>
  He poured himself a cup. Took a sip of the strong brew and waited for her to sit down. At last she compiled.

  ‘Yum,’ she said as she grabbed a pastry from the stack. He watched her rip into the flaking confectionary, sprinkling crumbs, and lick the powdered sugar off the top.

  The hum in his abdomen became a definite buzz.

  He forced his gaze off her mouth – and his thoughts away from the memory of how her lips tasted dusted with almond sugar.

  Not helping.

  ‘I’ve arranged a settlement with my finance team for The Royale. To pay the debts and keep you solvent for the next twelve months. Once the year is up, you can plan a budget with them for the following year.’

  The pastry dropped on to her plate. ‘What?’

  Finally, he’d managed to surprise her. Not just surprise her, astonish her from the look on her face.

  The prickle of satisfaction wasn’t putting much of a dent into the strange weight pressing against his ribs.

  Why did she look so shocked? Surely, the money was the least he owed her? Something he should have done two days, two weeks, two months ago even. Why had he been so determined not to take this step?

  It was only money. And it was money he might even get back in time. He could be a silent partner.

  If he were an ocean away, he didn’t need to be involved. He wanted to do this, for Ruby, and for his uncle. This was the best way to give back to the guy – for the harm he’d done to him by being born. And to give back to Ruby for three weeks he was never going to forget.

  ‘My finance department have set up an investment fund,’ he began again. ‘They’ll pay the debts as soon as they become due, then give you access for day-to-day running costs …’

  She lifted her hand. ‘Wait! Stop, you can’t do that. I won’t let you do that.’

  ‘Why not?’ he asked, confused.

  This was not the reaction he’d expected. But then maybe he should have. Nothing Ruby said or did was ever predictable.

  ‘The Royale’s not your responsibility,’ she said, the finality in her voice starting to concern him. ‘It’s mine.’

  ‘If you’re worried about the ownership,’ he said. ‘I’m planning to sign over my share in the theatre to you,’ he continued. ‘I called Ryker on Friday after I found out what happened with those clowns at The Rialto; he’s doing the paperwork next week.’

  She got out of her seat, but instead of relief on her face, all he saw was … What the hell was that? Why was she so upset?

  ‘When did you find out about The Rialto offer?’ Her lips were trembling. She looked more than upset, she looked devastated.

  ‘Right after I’d spoken to you in Brynn’s. I knew something was up, that you weren’t telling me the truth. You should have told me what was going on, I shouldn’t have had to ask Jacie.’

  She sat back down, her face a picture of distress now. He didn’t get it.

  ‘That’s why you came back?’ she murmured. ‘That’s why you came to the screening? Because Jacie told you we were going to have to sell the theatre? And you thought you had to rescue me?’

  It wasn’t the only reason.

  The truth struck him hard. He’d wanted to see her one last time. Wanted to spend one more night with her. But what would be the point of admitting that now?

  Her head lifted and her eyes were dry but he could hear the tears in her voice when she spoke. ‘You shouldn’t have come back, Luke.’

  ‘I had to,’ he said, ‘I couldn’t leave knowing you were going to lose your home.’

  ‘I can’t accept the money,’ she said, so simply and firmly that the pressure in his chest became unbearable.

  ‘That’s nuts,’ he said, leading with his frustration. Why was she being so stubborn? ‘Of course, you can.’ He reached across the table and covered her hand with his, felt the spark of connection, the sizzle of need.

  ‘No, I can’t.’ She dragged her hand free, and the weight in his chest sunk into his stomach.

  ‘I figured it out, Ruby,’ he said. ‘It’s what I was always meant to do,’ he continued, but he could hear the desperation in his own voice. ‘The theatre was in financial difficulties. Matty loved you like a daughter, he didn’t want to leave you with nothing, so he gave me half the theatre to save it for you.’

  She shook her head, her eyes shiny with unshed tears now. ‘That’s not true. Matty was never that mercenary.’

  ‘I wouldn’t call it mercenary, more like smart.’

  ‘Why did you change your mind?’ she countered.

  ‘Huh?’ he asked, the weight in his stomach now heavier than a cannonball.

  ‘Why did you change your mind?’ she repeated. ‘When you first inherited a share of The Royale, you told me you couldn’t help us. That it was a bad investment.’

  ‘Come on, a lot has happened since then, you know why I’ve changed my mind.’ Did she want him to say it? Was that it? To make him declare he had feelings for her?

  ‘What’s changed?’ Yeah, she did want him to say it. He guessed he owed her this, too.

  ‘Everything’s changed, damn it. I care about this place now.’ He threw his arms in the air, let his gaze roam over the worn couch where he and Ruby had necked while watching a movie he couldn’t even remember, because he’d been too into her. The table where they’d eaten breakfast, sometimes with her sitting on his lap. The hallway, the kitchen. Even the poster of his father on the wall, which no longer had the power to freak him out.

  ‘I care about the theatre,’ he said. ‘And the people in it.’

  He closed the gap she’d created between them and took her hand in his, ran his thumb across her palm – felt her shudder of response. ‘And most of all I care about you.’

  There, damn it, he’d said it.

  But as he lifted her hand to kiss the knuckles, she pulled her fingers free. ‘Don’t, Luke.’

  Chills raced through his body at her rejection.

  ‘Just because you slept with me.’ Her voice was dull, flat, contradicting the heat in her face. ‘That doesn’t make you responsible for me.’

  ‘I know that,’ he said. But when he tried to take her hand again, she stood up, and wrapped her arms around her waist.

  ‘I don’t think you do,’ she said. ‘I won’t take your money. I don’t want it.’

  ‘Don’t be dumb,’ he said, frustration flaring now. ‘You need the money, The Royale needs the money. I’ve got lots of it. It’s the only solution.’

  ‘No, it’s not. I can sell The Royale to The Rialto the way I planned.’

  ‘But you don’t want to sell it,’ he said, starting to get desperate. She was actually serious about this? She’d rather sell than take his money? What was wrong with his money? ‘This is your place. It belongs to you. Matty wanted you to have it.’

  ‘Matty was a lot of wonderful things,’ she said. ‘But a great businessman wasn’t one of them. The theatre’s my responsibility now and I’m going to sell it. This place isn’t my whole life …’ She let her gaze roam around the room, but where he would have expected sentiment, what he saw was steely resolve. ‘Not anymore. I’ve been hiding here all these years. I need to get out and build a new life for myself. A real life, instead of one that only exists in the movies. You taught me that.’ Her eyes met his, the pragmatism he saw somehow disturbing.

  ‘But you don’t have to do that.’ What wasn’t she getting about this? ‘Why would you sell The Royale? When I can solve the problem? When I’m offering to solve the problem?’

  ‘Because it’s not your problem to solve, Luke. It never was. Matty didn’t leave you a share in this theatre to save it. All he wanted was for you to love it, the way he did, because he loved your father. And now you care about The Royale. Job done. Can’t you see that’s all that matters?’

  Jesus, what crap. Did she really believe this stuff?

  ‘I refuse to be another responsibility you don’t want,’ she said, her back straightening.

  ‘But I do wa
nt this one.’ Almost as much as I want you.

  The thought echoed in his head.

  ‘No, you don’t, Luke,’ she said. ‘Because then you’d have to accept the fact that I love you.’

  She said the words so simply, and with so little inflection, he almost didn’t catch them. ‘What?’

  ‘I love you, Luke,’ she said again, clear, precise, and still with that steely determination, as if she were revealing something terrible instead of something wonderful. ‘I think I’ve known it for a while, but until last night, until you came back, I had totally convinced myself I would never have to admit it to myself. And I certainly wouldn’t have to admit it to you. But you came back, and you ruined everything.’ She crossed her arms over her chest, her ragged breathing making his own chest hurt. ‘And now here we are,’ she continued. ‘I can’t take the money because I think the real reason you want to give it to me is you feel guilty, and I don’t want you to feel that way about us,’ she finished with a huff of breath.

  She didn’t look as if she expected a reply.

  Which was probably a good thing, because he didn’t know what the hell to say. He could see she meant it, one hundred and one percent, but he could also see how sad it made her. And he knew why. Because she was right.

  He couldn’t feel that much. Not for Ruby, not for anyone. Because it would force him into a corner he’d spent his whole life trying to get out of.

  ‘I think you should leave now, Luke,’ she said.

  He stared at her, the softly spoken words like a blow. He wanted to take her in his arms, to make her take the money. He didn’t want to let her throw away everything she deserved, everything she’d worked so hard for. But how could he do that now without hurting her even more?

  He closed his hands into fists and shoved them into the pockets of his suit pants to control the burst of need and frustration.

  He couldn’t argue with her.

  Or things might be said he couldn’t take back. Emotions exposed that he didn’t want to reveal. That he didn’t know how to handle.

  Emotions he didn’t even understand.