Flora Dain - Charm

Or maybe that was the deal.

The very next day, after my spectacular and unscripted one-night stand with Darnley, I packed my things, made some hasty phone calls and walked out on Ryan for good. That night I went back to my old room in Billy’s tiny apartment and stayed there.

I’ve not seen Ryan since.

Which is partly why I’m curious to see him now. Especially as Darnley’s version of him is so out of character. For all his faults Ryan’s no shy, driven backroom geek – he’s clever for sure but he’s also happy-go-lucky and charming and makes friends easily. I can’t see him as a big player.

I think Darnley’s got him all wrong. And Darnley strikes me as a very big player indeed – he’s got all the charisma, the forceful energy and the sheer class to wipe the floor with a dozen Ryans. And I’m getting wet just thinking about it. All those qualities make him also very, very hot.

But then he must know that. He’s way out of my league too.

I glance in my rear-view mirror and feel a trace of relief. At last I’ve lost that car. But now it dawns on me that I’m lost too. I’m deep in the Dallas suburbs. This looks like some poor neighbourhood. I’m cruising past low-rise liquor stores, deserted parking lots and small businesses long boarded up. People going nowhere lean on fences daubed with graffiti. They look up as I drive past and follow me with their eyes.

It seems not all Texans are in oil.

I pull over and park across the street from a news kiosk. I’ll ask there, or at least buy a map.

I get out and stride purposefully across the street. There’s not much traffic. On the sidewalk a small group of men in jeans and leather jackets appear from nowhere and bar my way. Up close they stop talking and stare at me. My stomach shrivels. The one standing directly in front of me makes no attempt to move out of the way.

‘Can I get to the counter?’ My voice sounds tinny and unreal, and I sense movement behind me as more of them gather round.

‘What counter, babe?’ He’s just spoken but his mouth hardly moved. And I sense the others closing in. Now I’m surrounded and all at once I’m scared.

More men quietly join them, appearing from nowhere.

I’m no local and I’m clearly lost. I must reek of fear.

He shifts aside to show me the kiosk behind him is closed. It looks like it’s been closed a while – possibly months.

I open my mouth to frame a question about directions to Fort Worth that won’t make me sound like a frightened rabbit asking how to get back in the hutch. All at once there’s a commotion in the road behind me – a screech of brakes, a blare of horns and the crash of car doors being flung open. The men around me all stare at something past my shoulder and I’m instantly forgotten. I spin round to see what’s happened and clap a hand to my mouth.

A low black car has pulled up at a crazy angle across the street, blocking both carriageways. As I watch, men leap out and start walking purposefully towards us.

The effect is terrifying. They look mean and professional and they move in formation. And at their head is Darnley, his jaw set, his blazing eyes locked on mine.

The men around me have melted away. Now they’re watching from doorways, edging round corners. Darnley towers over me, his face like thunder.

‘ Where is he? ’

I stare at him, my mind a blank. ‘Who?’

The flash from his eyes could sear metal. ‘Don’t play games with me. I said to wait. We’d go together. Then you set off on your own. We tailed you. When you tried to shake us off I guessed you must know something we don’t. Mitchell’s here somewhere. You’re going to see him. So where is he? Which building?’

Now I’m getting angry too, spiked by adrenalin. ‘You tailed me? Since when is Ryan your ex? This is my problem, not yours. I want to talk to him alone. Stay out of this. Your beef with him is just business. Mine’s personal. So let me do it my way.’

‘I repeat, where is he?’

‘I don’t know. I’m lost. I was trying to get back to the freeway –’

I break off as he turns and signals to his men. As one they pause.

The street immediately around us is free of traffic now. Cliff Face is waving it on. The kerb is also clear. Curious passers-by have shrunk out of range. Faces peer from windows. The men who confronted me have regrouped across the street. They think it’s a gang thing.

They watch like cheated hyenas as a pack with a prior claim and better suits claims their prey. No one’s picking a fight but now they’re curious, hoping for drama.

Darnley turns back to me, his expression veiled but his manner brisk. ‘OK, you’ll ride with me. One of the men will return your car.’ He takes my arm and propels me towards the dark car, whose engine is revving up and ready for the off.

Some of the men have already piled into the rear seats and the driver’s poised with his hands on the wheel. Darnley pushes me onto the low bench seat alongside his and climbs in next to me, slamming the door shut as he wedges himself thrillingly against me.

Across the street my hire car is already easing into the traffic, one of his men at the wheel. We do a swift half-turn and set off in the opposite direction.

The whole incident took about three minutes.

* * *

Fort Worth seems pleasant and leafy, from what I can see of it. After twenty minutes wedged next to Darnley’s thigh I’m finding it hard to concentrate on the scenery speeding past.

It’s back, the invisible thread that pulled me to him the night we met, that drew me into the spell of his gaze the instant I walked into the hotel pool area. It’s been tugging us closer every second we’re apart. Now, with his men all around us, we’re forced to sit painfully close but forbidden to touch in the way we need to touch. I can feel the heat from his chest, his arm and his thigh burning into me, the coiled power in his muscles tense against my softer body.

He rests one hand loosely in his lap, close to mine, but his other steals round the back of my waist and clutches me to him as we sway slightly at any swerve in the road. His fingers do the talking, pressing into me, his touch thrilling and heady. His heart’s beating steadily somewhere near my arm. Or is it my heart? I can’t tell.

From time to time he mutters a curt instruction to the driver. Finally he leans close to murmur in my ear. At least I think what’s why he leans close, but he breathes deep before he finally whispers, like he’s drinking me in, ‘We’re headed for his hotel, a little way out of town. That was where he said he’d be. Unless you know something different?’

His breath drifts over my skin like a caress, making me shiver.

I glance up and breathe in his aftershave and the light, spicy scent of his skin. ‘That was where I was headed too. I tried to text him but I can’t get a signal.’

‘You mean he’s not been in touch? Show me.’ His lips are so close they almost touch me. His breath on my neck is soothing and seductive but his tone is low and abrupt.

In a daze I hand over my phone.

He flicks through my messages and then hands it back. ‘Here. Keep it switched on. We can track him if he tries to make contact.’

‘Why do you want to see my messages?’ I’m curious. Watching experts always interests me.

‘To see if you’re lying.’

I waste a furious glance at his elegant profile as he looks away. A sudden clench in his cheek warns me he’s still angry.

We ride the rest of the way in silence while his men talk quietly about baseball.

Ryan’s holed up in a sprawling ranch-style complex with distant golf courses and fenced-in rides for horses. There are pennants flying, golf buggies cruising by, and leisurely middle-aged couples in bright Bermuda shorts strolling on the fairways. As we pull up I stake my claim. ‘Let me go in alone. I want to see him first.’