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Buying himself time to formulate a reply he went to sit on the sofa, leaning forward so he could rest his hands on his knees. ‘It can’t have escaped your attention that you stopped being a little girl a long time ago.’ Unable to resist, he looked directly into her stunning blue eyes. ‘Now you’re a beautiful woman.’
To his astonishment, she blushed. ‘Thank you.’
He gazed into her eyes, mesmerised. She was so bloody gorgeous he almost couldn’t breathe, yet she’d flushed at his compliment? Unbelievable. It was only when she broke the contact, dropping her gaze to her hands, that he realised he’d been staring. No wonder she was embarrassed. ‘But you’ll always be Robert’s sister to me, Lizzie,’ he told her gruffly. ‘So you don’t need to worry. I can appreciate your beauty and still keep my hands off you.’ He bloody hoped.
He took a final swig of his drink and stood up. ‘Last night was a temporary blip. I won’t let it happen again.’ His words sounded harsh, as if he was blaming her when the fault was totally his. To soften them, and to reinforce his elder brother status again, he bent down and kissed her lightly on the top of her head. ‘Goodnight.’
* * *
Lizzie stared at Nick’s departing back, totally baffled. How could he tell her she was beautiful and then promise to keep his hands off her? Kiss her like he had last night and then promise not to let it happen again? God, he scrambled her brain so much, she wanted to scream. She was in half a mind to tear up the stairs after him, throw herself onto his bed and show him exactly how she thought of him. And it wasn’t as a flipping older brother. But her life was a mess and however she might want him, dragging Nick into that chaos wasn’t fair.
So instead of following her heart, she hung around downstairs a while, giving them both some space. Soon she’d be heading back to America. It was going to be hard enough to leave Nick as it was. If they started an affair, she’d never want to return. And she had to go back. For Robert, for her career. Besides, Nick was her one true friend; the only one who knew the real Lizzie. She couldn’t afford to risk complicating their relationship with an affair. If she lost him, she’d lose herself.
Her heart tightened and tears filled her eyes but she resolutely brushed them away and padded up the stairs to bed.
Chapter Thirteen
Nick knew the only way he could stick to his promise to keep his hands off Lizzie was to put some distance between them. A lot of distance. So he submerged himself in his work. It was a long way from how he’d hoped to be spending his remaining days with her, but he had enough stacked up to kid himself he needed to disappear off to London every day, and lock himself up in his study at night. He wasn’t hiding from Lizzie, of course. Just working really hard.
When they did occasionally bump into each other, he could almost convince himself things were back to where they had been before the kiss. Almost, because the awkwardness was still there. On both sides. It was one thing him knowing he wanted to make love to her. It was quite another her knowing that, too. But though she occasionally looked at him as if she was wondering what he was thinking, he ignored the unspoken question and kept all conversation bland and trivial.
On Sunday though, Nick couldn’t escape into London. Well, he could, but even he considered that one gutless step too far. Working yesterday had been sad enough. So instead of heading off in his car, he went for a run. Once the physical exercise, combined with the ice cold shower, ensured his hormones were under control, he ambled downstairs. The patio doors had been flung open and he spied Lizzie sitting on a lounger, enjoying the sunshine. Deliberately he went to join her.
‘Good morning.’ He pulled out a chair and sat down, casting a casual eye over the papers she was reading. It was better for him than looking at her legs, which were stretched out gloriously in front of her. Long, shapely, smooth. He dragged his eyes to her face. ‘What are you reading?’
‘Maria sent some stuff over for me to go through.’ She sighed deeply. ‘Potential projects, if I can ever get past this scandal.’
Nick frowned. ‘Do designers, or whoever you usually work for, really take any notice of that sort of gossip? I mean, any publicity is good publicity, right?’
‘I’m not sure that holds true with sex scandals. At least not when you’ve made your career from being a supposedly pure, angelic English rose.’ She smiled sadly. ‘Remember I told you I’d just signed to promote a perfume called Innocence? Well, they wriggled out of that contract pretty sharply. God knows what I’ll be considered to promote when this all blows over. I doubt they make fragrances called Whore or Hooker.’
‘Stop it.’ His voice was sharper than he’d intended, but it had the desired result. She shut up, gaping at him, clearly surprised he’d shouted. So was he, but he hated to think she had so little respect for herself.
‘Sorry.’ She bit into her lip and looked away.
In a flash he realised just how selfish he’d been over the last week. He’d brought her back to England to support her through this ordeal, then proceeded to bury himself in his work and avoid her. Some knight in shining armour he’d turned out to be.
‘No, I’m the one who’s sorry. Sorry I’ve not been around much this week. I’ve been working,’ he added lamely.
‘I didn’t expect you to be around all the time. You have your own life to live. And I really appreciate what you’ve done for me, truly.’
‘Forget it.’ She was far too kind to say it, but as her friend he could have done a heck of a lot more. ‘How do you fancy going out on the river today?’ he asked after a short while. ‘We could take a picnic. You could relax in the back with your shades and a good book, and I could put my macho captain’s hat on and steer?’
‘Macho captain’s hat, eh?’ Her delicious lips curved. ‘Now that I have to see. Have you got a boat then?’
‘Well, it’s not one of your celebrity style fancy yachts, but it does for messing about on the river round here.’ He stood and took her hand, pulling her up with him. ‘Come on, shipmate.’
* * *
The afternoon was heaven. Not least because Nick had come back to her. Gone was the diffident, elusive man Lizzie had shared a house with the last few days. Back was the friend of old. She glanced over at him, unable to resist a smile at his baseball cap, proudly sporting the word Captain. Given to him, so he claimed, by a friend. Had it been Sally?
The swift flare of jealousy was too painful to be ignored so she acknowledged it with a grimace but pushed it to one side. Nothing was going to ruin today for her. She glanced back at Nick, enjoying a quiet study of him while he wasn’t looking. What with his carelessly placed cap, casual polo shirt and dark sunglasses, he looked pretty cool — and, because he didn’t realise it, sexier than any of the models she’d ever worked with.
They stopped for a picnic, Nick surprising her by slipping out a bottle of champagne. It was almost surreal to be sitting by the riverbank on a blanket, sipping champagne and eating strawberries.
‘This setting couldn’t be more English,’ she murmured dreamily as she refilled her glass. How many was that now? Certainly enough to make her very aware of every inch of his long, lean body stretched out beside her.
‘Oh, I don’t know. We could do with a cricket match going on behind us. And perhaps a brass band playing.’ He lay his head down on the blanket and gazed up at the sky. ‘Do you ever miss England?’
