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‘Of course.’ Both of them knew she was lying.
‘Well, come out with me tomorrow and I’ll try and keep up with you.’ He bent down to yank off his trainers. When he stood back up, his expression was serious. ‘I’ll grab a quick shower and we can talk over breakfast.’
As she watched his retreating back, the tension returned to her stomach once more. Perhaps he’d been right to keep this stuff to himself. At least he’d given her yesterday.
By the time Nick came back down, freshly showered and changed into black jeans and a black T-shirt, Lizzie had managed to scramble together a pot of tea and several rounds of toast.
‘Does the dark attire have any bearing on what you’re about to say?’ she remarked as she poured out the tea.
He glanced down at his clothes. ‘I can assure you I have enough trouble finding tops that match bottoms, without having to factor in matching them to my mood.’ Sliding effortlessly onto a stool, he reached for a mug. ‘You’re getting good at breakfast, Lizzie. Maybe soon you’ll be proficient enough to move onto lunch.’
She sat down opposite him and glared. ‘Ha ha. If you want me to continue to make breakfast, I suggest you rapidly change the conversation. We can start with what on earth you and Dan were talking about last night?’
‘Fair enough.’ He took a huge mouthful of toast and Lizzie was forced to wait while he chewed then swallowed. ‘I told you when we were in Los Angeles that we’d clear your name. Before we start, I need you to understand that no matter what it takes, that is what we’re going to do.’
She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again when she saw the fierce determination flaring in his eyes. Somewhere in her chest, her heart lifted and lodged itself near her windpipe.
‘Okay,’ he continued, stretching his hands out in front of him, as if he was getting down to business. ‘Here is where we’re at. Your attorney, Daniel Rutherford, otherwise known as Dan the Man—’
She nearly choked on her toast. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. The guy’s a legend. Anyway, he’s been working on a few angles he’d hoped would provide the police with sufficient evidence to nail Charles, aka, the bastard.’ Nick’s face turned sombre. ‘Disappointment number one, it appears nobody at the bar remembers you acting oddly or appearing drugged. The guy on the reception desk remembers you, Charles and another guy coming to get a key for the hotel room, but only because he recognised your face. He said you seemed perfectly happy and he had no reason to think there was anything unusual going on.’
The toast she was chewing started to taste like cardboard. How could she not remember willingly going to that hotel room? Willingly having sex with two men? Not just willingly but, according to the pictures, happily.
‘Hey, are you all right?’
Nick reached across the breakfast bar and held her hand. Clearing her throat she brought her mind back to the here and now. ‘Yes, sorry. For a moment I started to think back.’
He swore and clutched her hand tighter. ‘That’s exactly why I didn’t want to discuss this with you yesterday, or last night. I wanted you to have time to be you again. Without all this crap getting in the way.’
‘I know, but I can’t continue to put my head in the sand. It’s my life we’re talking about. The real one, not the fantasy one I’m living here.’
* * *
Point taken. Sadly Nick let go of her hand. For the first time he acknowledged his desire not to mention this yesterday hadn’t been entirely selfless. He, too, hated the reminder of her life in LA. Of what that git had done to her. He wished instead of talking about this, he could sweep her into his arms and take her to bed. Make both of them forget everything. But that was his fantasy, and the likelihood of it happening was about the same as him winning the London marathon. On one leg. Dressed as a flamingo.
‘Okay. Where was I?’ He took a swig of his tea and tried to collect his thoughts. ‘Dan managed to acquire the original photographs from the newspaper group and gave them to the police for fingerprinting. Disappointment number two, it seems there were so many prints on them there was no hope of getting a match with anyone.’ The hand that had been holding her mug jerked and Nick kicked himself. ‘Sorry, that was pretty tactless.’
She gave him a wan smile. ‘Don’t worry. It’s not like it’s only the newspaper staff who’ve seen the photos, is it? They’ve been in all the papers, splashed all over the internet. Probably somebody, somewhere, is eating fish and chips off them. I hope it doesn’t spoil their appetite.’
At that, Nick had to chuckle. ‘It won’t put any men off their appetite, trust me. Far from it.’
Her cheeks instantly turned red. ‘I don’t want to think of hoards of men lusting over pictures like that. It’s different when I’m modelling. Then I’m acting the part of the model, Elizabeth Donavue. And wearing clothes, damn it.’ She jumped to her feet and began to load the dishwasher, clattering the plates into each other.
Shit. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered inadequately. ‘When they dished out sensitivity, I must have been at the back of the queue.’
‘No. I probably just got a double dose. I need to develop a thicker skin.’ She slammed the dishwasher door shut. ‘So, where do we go from here?’
He tried not to wince, telling himself the machine was probably still under warranty. ‘Where did you get Charles’s name from? Was he recommended? I mean as a personal trainer,’ he added hastily, tugging a reluctant smile from her.
‘He’s been on the scene for the last few years. Loads of actresses use him and some of the models I work with, so, yes, he was recommended. What are you thinking?’
‘It seems odd to me that this man, who has presumably been working with other women at least as wealthy as you, suddenly decided to target you for money. What if you weren’t the first woman he’d blackmailed? What if he’d already played the same trick on some of the others, but they paid up, rather than risk the exposure?’
Lizzie, who’d moved to taking out her anger on the work surface, stopped scrubbing at it for long enough to glance at him. ‘It’s a thought,’ she replied slowly, ‘but wouldn’t they have warned me off?’
Nick shrugged. ‘Maybe that was all part of the deal. They paid up, kept quiet and recommended him to other clients. He promised to keep the sordid photographs out of the papers.’
