Carol Marinelli - Playing the Playboy's Sweetheart

Little butterfly kisses were being delivered to her cheeks and her lips were starting to thrum hungrily in anticipation as, three years on, the master picked up the lead and offered a decadent walk. And just as she had when last they’d kissed, Emily had to come up with a rapid reason why it wouldn’t work.

Before lips met she had to come up with a reason or she’d be dragging him by the hair to the taxi and up the stairs to her bed.

Or would she let him drag her.

Oh, my!

She was again starting to consider the possibilities, just tossing all warnings aside and going along with his ridiculous plan. It was the feeling of suddenly wavering that had Emily pull back.

‘I can’t do it.’

‘I’m waiting for the reason.’

‘I can’t do it because …’ Come on, think, Emily, she told herself, come up with one very good reason why it would be an impossible idea. And then her champagne- and Hugh-befuddled brain found a solution. ‘Because I don’t like you,’ Emily said. Hugh just grinned.

‘No, I mean it, I don’t really enjoy your company so …’ Shut up, Emily, her mind said, but she simply couldn’t stop. Emily could actually see the frown between his eyes as the words hit. ‘I put up with you at work, of course, it’s part of my job, but …’

‘Okay.’ He stepped back.

‘You asked why not,’ Emily said. ‘You asked for one good reason …’

‘I get the message,’ Hugh said. ‘Finally.’

Emily closed her eyes, very aware that she had handled that terribly, then she forced them open and took a breath, knowing that she had to apologise.

But how?

How could she explain that she didn’t like his company at times because it ate her up inside? How could she explain when he was inches from her mouth that her feelings for him terrified her?

‘Hugh …’

‘Let’s just leave it.’

They walked over to the line of taxis and Hugh opened the door of one for her.

‘Hugh …’ Emily said as she got in.

‘’Night, Emily.’ He closed the door.

All the way home Emily kicked herself. She couldn’t have handled that more badly if she had tried but the near kiss had actually caused her to panic.

Get over yourself.

Maybe it was time to, Emily thought. Perhaps she could apologise properly on Monday.

Maybe even explain how she felt?

That she was actually terrified to get close to anyone.

She paid the taxi driver and headed to her home, and for the first time her resolution wavered, the cloak of self-preservation almost slid off, for she wanted the feelings Hugh triggered and yet she knew, from his undeniable track record, that soon they’d be done.

Time to take a risk, Emily.

In fact, it was long overdue that she did.

She was just pulling him up on her computer, just trying to convince herself to wait till tomorrow to attempt contact because she’d made enough of a mess of things tonight already.

Then she saw that she had a message.

From her dad.

Emily, I tried to call.

I’ve got some good news, two bits of good news actually.

Emily read the message, her eyes filling with tears as she heard that her dad was marrying again and soon, because—guess what—Cathy was pregnant!

A little brother or sister for you, her dad tossed in, and she was very glad she’d missed his call because she felt like screaming.

Would it be like it had been with the twins all over again?

She actually ached to see them but it wasn’t just the blood relations that hurt. There had been so many girlfriends and along with them their children, and it was much the same with her mum.

‘I don’t want to go to your wedding.’ Emily said it out loud as she stared at the screen, though she knew she’d do the right thing and be there, more in the hope of seeing the twins, though.

If Donna let them attend.

That was why she was like this, Emily reminded herself. That was why she let no one in.

She checked her reminders. It was her half-sister Abby’s birthday tomorrow and though she had sent a gift in the post Emily posted a message on her mum’s timeline.

She flicked through some images; saw Abby smiling with her own dad’s children from a previous relationship.

There wasn’t enough wood in a forest to map Emily’s family tree.

It was always the one , her parents told her when they met the latest love of their life.

This time they were sure.

Until it was over.

Emily allowed herself one look at the smiling image of Hugh on her screen and then clicked off.

Hugh was a sure-fire recipe for disaster.

She was right to refuse herself a taste.

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