The Man She Shouldn't Crave

‘What’s so funny?’

‘Big, rich and Russian isn’t in London, babe. He’s here in Toronto. Has been all week.’

* * *

It felt like a million years ago since she’d first stepped through the doors of the Dorrington Hotel, instead of merely seven days. She’d taken a chance on Plato being there, and as she walked across the lobby she caught sight of him in the bar.

Her heart stuttered.

It was impossible to miss him. Quite apart from his physically imposing size, he was simply the most gorgeous man in the room.

Her man

.

She hadn’t expected this—for it to happen to her all over again. She’d thought the sheer misery of it all would have killed those feelings, but instead they were stronger than ever. Her whole body was literally trembling.

As she came closer she noticed a couple of tables of preening women. All of them on parade. It was as if wherever he went there were girls making up to him. Paradoxically it brought her to her senses, and only served to make her madder.

Rose was suddenly very glad she’d slid her feet into her ruby heels this morning, donned her best blue woollen coat and collected her vintage bag—the one with the bird’s wing clasp. She thought she cut a dashing figure. She was a girl about town. She had a ton more class than those floozies. Who drank in a bar at two o’clock in the afternoon? Okay, a posh, classy bar, but it was still a bar.

The same one she’d been dumped out of a week ago, on suspicion of solicitation…

Plato was leaning against the teak and gold railing with a group of other men. All shoulders, in a suede jacket spread open by the positioning of his arms to reveal the lean, hard-packed length of his torso. She recognised a couple of Wolves players. The other guys were older, with more flesh on them. They were listening to Plato.

Rose hesitated in the doorway and that was when he saw her. His casual gaze caught on her, held, and he straightened up. For a moment he looked as stunned as she felt. Her heart stopped and he came towards her.

Her lover.

Pulling her bag in tight to her waist, Rose crossed the room with rapid little movements, shoulders back, working up her anger with every step she took and every step he no longer took. He just stood there, looking down at her.

At the woman who targeted him.

A fresh surge of anger pushed through her. Right. She would take care of this. She would make sure she was reasonable and low-key. She wouldn’t let him see how much he’d hurt her.

‘Why aren’t you in London?’ she demanded, the words just spilling out. ‘Why are you doing this to me? Haven’t you done enough? Haven’t I paid a high enough price for daring to take a little publicity from you?’ She stamped her heel, vaguely aware that this was neither reasonable nor low-key.

Why was he just staring at her?

‘I’m sorry—all right? I’m sorry for being underhanded about it, but I was desperate. The shelter’s lease was coming up and they needed the money. But you’ve solved that now. Which takes away my ability to be mad with you. So we’ve done our little bit of business, Mr Kuragin, and now I’d like to call it quits.’

She stuck out her hand and was proud of herself because it wasn’t shaking.

Plato glanced down at her hand as if it were an unknown object.

Deep down she knew she was doing this all wrong. But she was desperately trying to hold on to her pride. She knew what he was doing here, standing in this bar, talking about the team and the game, pretending not to bask in the attention of twelve—count them—twelve women, all of whom would trample her just to get to him.

Back off, ladies, her subconscious snarled. Mine.

Shocked, she lifted unguarded eyes to his.

There were fine lines bracketing them. She’d never really noticed that before. But the expression in his eyes…there was something…

She hesitated, everything in her reaching towards him. But she knew everyone in the bar was looking at them, that she’d just done something very publicly that she really ought to have done with some decorum and class. But she was all over being well-mannered, and to her surprise she wasn’t feeling any humiliation. She was feeling…

Hopeful.

Because he was looking at her as if…