Marriage Make-Over

‘Mmm.’ She could not bring herself to say the word.

‘I don’t claim to know any more than you do. I think I know about exactly the same amount.’

‘Ha!’ She scoffed so loud a couple of female heads turned her way, their eyes alight with interest.

‘You disagree?’ he asked.

‘I’m the one asking the questions here,’ she said through clenched teeth, her glance darting about the room.

‘I have a question for you,’ he said, happily ignoring her protest. ‘Where’s your ring?’

He reached out and took her left hand, toying with her bare ring finger, encircling, stroking, caressing from the tip to her sensitive palm.

Kelly’s gaze rocked back to him, startled. She knew which ring he meant. She yanked her hand away and rubbed at the spot that tingled with the memory of wearing the ring Simon had given her. Such a short time. Such a long time ago.

She shrugged. ‘I haven’t worn it in years. And I’ve moved so many times since then…who knows? Gone for all eternity, I suppose.’

He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. His gaze had lowered to her squirming hands so she had no idea how her answer affected him. But it had affected her to her very core. It had dredged up memories and feelings and associations with another time when he had held her left hand with such intimacy.

‘So if you’re the one asking the questions,’ he finally said, ‘come on, then. Ask away.’

Her mind froze. The only other question she could summon at that moment was: Do you feel the same overwhelming and downright frightening sense of sense slipping away that I feel every time we are within touching distance of one another?

So, knowing that was the last thing she wanted to share with Simon, she stood and grabbed him by the hand, dragging him through the room, past a dozen interested onlookers, and into the tearoom, which thankfully was empty.

‘I don’t think this is going to work. I have your letter. That’s enough for me to come up with a perfectly good retort.’

‘Surely I deserve a heads up. I said in my letter that I believe love is alive and well out there. What do you have to say about that?’

She still held his hand. She made to pull away and his free hand put a stop to that, closing over hers so that it was entirely encased in the strong warmth of his grasp.

Kelly was sure she had plenty to say but at that moment her throat had closed over and her pulse had quickened to a rate of knots. She shook her head to clear the indefinable fog that was dampening her perfectly good rage.

‘Simon, just go, please.’ Her voice sounded far away.

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘No. I did not come here to be interviewed, Kelly, you know that.’

‘So why are you here?’

Please tell me. Whatever the answer, I have to know.

He closed the gap between them so quickly Kelly did not see it coming. His warm, strong hands pulled her to him before reaching up, framing her shocked face as he leaned in to touch his lips to hers.

For a moment Kelly was able to resist. Stunned as she was. But only a moment. Then, with a shuddering groan, her open mouth yielded under his warm, persuasive skill.

Simon’s beautiful lips tempted her own apart and a hundred distant memories burst to the surface with the unexpectedness of a lightning flash. She could all but feel the hot sun of five years before burn upon her neck as his kiss deepened and enticed and sent melting hot flushes the length of her body.

She stole her hands around his shoulders to bury her fingers deep into his soft hair, the silky sensation so familiar and so missed all these years. One of Simon’s hands followed suit, sliding around to bury itself deep within her tumble of silky hair just as she had sensed him longing to do all morning. His other hand stole around her back, the heat from his fingertips scorching through the thin synthetic fabric of her top. It curved lower, and lower until he cupped her bottom.

Then, having wrapped her up tight in his solid embrace, Simon pressed his body to hers. He was muscled where he had once been lean. And even with the changes to her own physique he fitted as if he had been carved just for her.

And the one blaring thought that managed to seep through her whirling, foggy, out-of-control mind was that she ached to know every single one of those changes up close and personal.

CHAPTER FOUR

KELLYISM:

LOVE AND KISSES SHOULD NEVER BE USED

IN THE SAME SENTENCE,

UNLESS IT’S THIS ONE!

KELLY’S mobile phone buzzed at her hip. The vibration jolted her out of Simon’s arms as if she had been struck with a hot poker.

She pulled away, relieved beyond thought that nobody had walked in on them. That was all she needed: to be caught necking in the tearoom. How could she, the mentor of how to survive without a man, explain that to her new colleagues?

She reached for the phone and checked the text message, blissfully ignoring Simon who was standing in front of her, his hands hanging clenched at his sides, his chest rising and falling with the same power and pace as her own.

‘My real interview is on the phone,’ Kelly said. She looked to him with pleading eyes. ‘So stay, go, do whatever you please, just leave me alone.’

‘I’ll go. For now.’

For ever. Please, for my sanity’s sake, go for ever this time.

He left and she followed. And as he reached the doorway to Reception, he sent her one last glance. One last hot, meaningful, and totally knee-weakening glance. It was all she could do to send him a professional nod and walk calmly back towards her desk. She could feel dozens of pairs of eyes burning holes into her back.

She’d kissed him. What on earth was she thinking kissing him? Sure, he had started it but that was an excuse better suited to the school playground. And she had certainly joined in without hesitation. Argh! She had been trying to send him away, for good, and then she had gone and kissed him! Well done, Kelly. Now he’ll really take your demands to get lost seriously.

She reached her desk and sat down with a punishing thud. A pretty blonde head popped around from the desk across from hers.

‘Hiya.’

‘Hello.’

‘I’m Lena.’ The cute girl extended a plump hand. ‘I’m the restaurant critic. You’re Kelly Rockford, right?’

‘I am.’ Kelly’s breathing had thankfully slowed to a more regular pace. She shook the proffered hand.

‘Glad to have you on board,’ Lena said. ‘Single and Loving It! is a crack-up. My girlfriends and I are totally addicted. One friend broke up with her boyfriend last week and we actually did your ritual night, right down to burning her ex’s photo and dancing around the ashes. Felt so silly at first but my friend is like I have never seen her. She is on top of the world. You saved her, and us from having to put up with the usual blubbering mess we would have had to contend with. You’re a genius.’

Kelly smiled, picturing the night a week after Simon had left when she had performed that ritual herself. Naked on the beach at midnight. Burning every photograph, every piece of physical evidence that he had been a part of her life. Doing everything she could to release her downtrodden spirit and move on. Though she was only now realising the little good it had done in releasing her from his influence.

‘Oh, no. Don’t go thinking I am a genius. Just a medium through which women can be heard.’