The breath whipped out of her and she stared for a few seconds, drinking him in with such shameless compulsion that she forgot the horror of her current situation.
He was in a pair of dark jeans and a dark polo shirt, with a battered tan bomber jacket hooked over one shoulder. He looked so utterly unfazed that she could only stare, mesmerised.
‘Shouldn’t you be on your way to Hawaii?’
‘Open the door and let me in. I’ve sent the two reporters on their way, but I can’t guarantee they won’t be back, and an argument on the doorstep when we’re due to be married any day soon is going to send them into a feeding frenzy...’
Ellie promptly undid the chain and fell back as he brushed past her into her tiny hallway before spinning round on his heels to look at her.
‘Why didn’t you call me?’ he demanded, staring at her.
How could he be so controlled? So calm, beautiful and utterly unruffled?
It didn’t seem fair. She pulled herself up, stiffened her shoulders and glared at him.
‘Call about what?’ she asked with cool defiance.
Frozen to the spot by the laser sharpness of his eyes, it was an effort to unglue herself from her rigid position and head towards the kitchen, making sure to circle round him. She felt his eyes on her back as she walked ahead of him and into the small kitchen with its weathered pine table and mismatched, colourful chairs she had bought from a car boot sale a few months ago.
Only a handful of days ago, this man had been her lover, but that was then and this was now and Ellie was not going to let him think that she couldn’t cope with what was being thrown at her.
Still...
She was glad that he was here. Somehow, his very presence felt like a guarantee that peace and order would be re-established.
‘Can I get you some coffee?’
‘Can you stop acting as though I’m a stranger? You should have called to tell me that the paparazzi were camping on your doorstep. How long have they been there? Since that bloody article hit the headlines? I’m guessing you’ve been bombarded with phone calls as well. It’s easy for these people to get hold of a mobile number if certain security measures aren’t in place.’
Bombarded with information and swept along by his instant dominance over the situation, Ellie could only subside weakly into one of the chairs, where she proceeded to rest her chin in her hands. She looked at him.
Coffee would have to wait. She felt she needed something a lot stronger. Scotch, maybe. A double. Except, there was none in the house. Her phone buzzed and she looked at it but didn’t pick up.
‘You have my apologies,’ James murmured in a low voice. ‘You look as though you could use a drink, and I don’t blame you. What have you got?’
‘There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge...’ She wanted to be strong and in charge, because they were no longer involved with one another, but it felt so good for him to take charge that she waited and then sighed with barely concealed relief when a glass of wine was placed in front of her.
‘Talk to me.’
‘Why are you here?’ was what came out of her mouth, and he frowned.
‘Did you expect me to read all that nonsense emblazoned across the tabloids and then head off to Hawaii, leaving you to deal with the mess?’
‘I’m not your problem.’
‘Let’s put pride to one side just for the moment,’ James said neutrally. ‘Have you left the house? Spoken to anyone?’
‘No and no.’ Ellie sighed. ‘I’ve been avoiding the phone. And it’s not just the reporters...it’s everyone at work. I...’ Tears welled up and she hurriedly looked away, stared at her hands on her lap and breathed in deeply. ‘It’s pretty awful,’ she whispered.
Guilt rammed into him with the force of a runaway train. The look on her face...
He’d got on that plane without any internal debate. He’d read what had been unleashed in the gossip columns on the opposite side of the Atlantic andnotgetting on a plane and heading back hadn’t been an option. Not when he’d been furious with his ex and even more furious with himself for putting Ellie in the situation in which she had found herself.You made the mess and it was up to you to clear it up.
He raked his fingers through his hair now and had to force himself to remain seated when what he wanted to do was vault upright and stride restlessly through the tiny kitchen, unless he brought his mind back under control.
Naomi. Bloody Naomi. Nothing like a woman scorned. She had taken stock of the situation when she had descended unannounced at the hotel in Barbados. She had seen with her own eyes exactly what was happening, and she had reacted with a vengeance, returning to London and running to the newspapers as fast as she could.
And why? Because her ego had taken a battering and she had known the best way she could get her revenge. He was a commitment-phobe? Then why not dump him in his own worst nightmare, publicly engaged to be married to someone, she must have assumed, who would be the last woman on earth he’d be attracted to long term, given his well-publicised penchant for leggy beauties...
