Loving Our Heroes

Right.

So yanking her into his arms and kissing her, pulling her towards him and exploring all that tantalising warmth and softness, making it his, right there in front of everybody, was probably not a good idea.

His senses screamed in protest as he regained control at the very last moment and dropped a chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth instead.

Just breathing in her perfume, feeling the softness of her skin, grazing the alluring curl of her lips was enough to make Campbell’s head reel, and he had to jerk his head back before he did something really stupid.

He had to clear his throat before he could speak. ‘You look wonderful,’ he managed at last and winced inwardly at the croak in his voice. Whatever had happened to cool Campbell Sanderson, famed for his focus and control?

‘Thanks,’ said Tilly. ‘You brush up nicely yourself.’

She was surprised at how ordinary her voice sounded. The brief brush of his lips had been like an electric jolt and she had to sit down before her legs gave way. Her face was throbbing where his mouth had touched her, her waist tingling where his hard hand had held her.

She picked up the menu with hands that weren’t quite steady and made a show of reading it.

‘Hungry?’ Campbell asked.

‘You know me, I’m always hungry.’

But she wasn’t, not really. Tilly couldn’t concentrate. The words wavered before her eyes, and it was impossible to focus on them when every sense was fixed on Campbell on the other side of the table. His lashes were lowered over the keen eyes as he read his own menu. His fingers were drumming absently on the cloth, and his mouth was set in the cool, quiet line that made her heart turn over whenever she looked at it.

Tilly was hardly aware of what she ordered. The wine waiter appeared as soon as the waitress had gone and tried to discuss wine with Campbell, who simply closed the wine list and handed it back. ‘Whatever’s good,’ he said brusquely. ‘And whatever you can find most quickly.’

‘You’ll probably get the most expensive wine in the restaurant,’ Tilly warned him as the wine waiter, disappointed, took himself off.

Campbell shrugged. ‘I’d rather pay for it than endure a lot of poncey talk about it.’

Olivier had been a wine buff. He had spent ages perusing the wine list before every meal, and Tilly couldn’t help thinking that it would be a nice change to have a meal out that wasn’t punctuated with exhaustive lectures on grapes and vineyards and bouquets and aromas.

The wine waiter took Campbell at his word and came back almost immediately with a bottle. Evidently deciding they weren’t worth any flourishes, he opened the bottle, poured two glasses and left.

Tilly lifted her glass. ‘Here’s to you surviving your latest dangerous mission!’

‘All those giggling girls?’ Campbell’s laugh was rueful. ‘I’d rather do just about anything than face a gaggle like that again!’

‘My hero!’

‘You mock,’ he said severely, although there was a hint of a smile about his mouth, ‘but I’m not used to girls—or not twelve-year-old ones anyway.’

‘You don’t have a sister, then?’

‘No, it was just me and my brother growing up. Girls were an alien species for a long time.’

‘We’re not so different, you know,’ said Tilly. ‘You’d learn that soon enough if you had a daughter.’

The smile vanished abruptly. ‘God forbid!’ he said, horrified at the thought. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start dealing with a girl.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry. She would deal with you,’ Tilly reassured him. ‘She’d have you wrapped round her little finger in no time! It’s always the same with you macho men. You’re putty in the hands of a little girl.’

‘It’s just as well I never had any kids then,’ said Campbell dryly.

‘Did you ever think about having children when you were married?’

He shook his head. ‘No, babies weren’t part of Lisa’s plan, and I’ve never even considered it. I don’t think I would have been a good father.’

Tilly put down her glass with a frown. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘I’m afraid I would have turned out like my own father.’ He straightened his cutlery without looking at her. ‘I suppose he loved us in his own way, but I never remember having fun with him, or doing the stuff other boys do with their fathers.’

‘That’s a shame,’ said Tilly, remembering how her stepfather had been with Harry and Seb. ‘He missed out on a lot.’

‘We all did. I know you think I’m bad at expressing emotion, but you should have met my father. He was an army officer, a very moral man in lots of ways, but he had rigid standards that my brother and I never met. We used to try and outdo each other in a bid to please him but nothing we did was ever quite good enough. It didn’t matter how well we did, he never praised us. I think he thought it would spoil us or something.’

‘What about your mother?’

‘She died when I was nine.’ Campbell sighed. ‘To be absolutely honest, I don’t remember her that well. Looking back, I wonder what kind of life she had, married to my father. I suspect that any spirit she may have had was crushed out of her early on. And after that we were packed off to boarding school, which sounds heartless, but we liked it more than being at home with our father.’

Poor little boys, Tilly thought, her heart twisting with pity. She had seen what losing their mother had done to her own brothers at not much older than Campbell had been. At least she had been there for them, but Campbell had had no such softening influence against his joyless, demanding father.

‘I see now why you’re so competitive,’ she said, as lightly as she could, and he gave her a crooked grin.

‘My brother is a barrister now. He’s worse than me!’

‘Your father must have been proud of you both, even if he didn’t show it. You’ve both been very successful.’

Campbell shrugged. ‘He died when I was in the Marines. Since trying to please him hadn’t got me anywhere, I’d started to rebel and I was heading off the rails. I was lucky the Marines took me,’ he confessed. ‘God knows where I would have ended up otherwise, but I was too much of a maverick to make a successful career in the forces like my father did. I’m not sure even that would have been enough for Dad.’ His mouth twisted in self-mockery. ‘Lisa used to tell me I was still trying to prove myself to him.’

You didn’t need to be married to him to guess that, Tilly thought waspishly. She wasn’t going to give Lisa any points for insight.

Absently, she crumbled a piece of bread, imagining Campbell as a boy, growing into a wild young man, his mother dead, his father distant, driven always by the need to succeed. No wonder he wasn’t good at talking about emotions. Being abandoned by his wife wouldn’t have helped either. Underneath that surface cool, was he as lost as the rest of them?

Her heart cracked for him, but she knew better than to offer pity.

‘My father is disappointed in me, too,’ she offered. ‘He doesn’t think making cakes is a proper job. It doesn’t make enough money, and that’s his only measure of success.’

Campbell wasn’t sorry to change the subject. ‘Have you seen him since your mother died?’

‘We keep in touch,’ said Tilly. ‘We have lunch every now and then, but it’s never very successful. I think it’s because we’re so different, but he thinks it’s because I’ve never forgiven him for leaving Mum. There may be some truth in that, although I know Mum was much happier with Jack than she would have been if Dad had stayed with us.’

‘How old were you when your parents divorced?’

‘Nearly seven,’ she said. ‘My mother kept telling me that my father still loved me, and that his leaving was nothing to do with me, but I didn’t believe her. If he’d loved me, he wouldn’t have left.’

She stopped and cocked her head, as if listening to what she had just said. ‘Hmm, that sounds bitter, doesn’t it? Maybe Dad’s right after all!’

Campbell wasn’t fooled by her bright smile. ‘You stayed with your mother, then?’

‘Yes, I had occasional weekends with Dad, but he was always busy. He got married again, and his new wife went perfectly with the smart, super-successful life he’d always wanted. Unfortunately a tubby little girl who reminded him of his old life just didn’t blend with his décor!

‘It was always a relief to go home,’ Tilly remembered. ‘I loved Jack. He was calm and steady and safe, and I was so happy when my mother married him. Once the twins arrived, it felt like the perfect family.’

She smiled wistfully. ‘I suppose I always hoped that I would meet someone like Jack myself. Instead, as Cleo is always pointing out, I seem drawn to men like Olivier, who are much more like my father. That’s all going to stop, though.’ She put on a resolute air. ‘From now on, I’m only interested in nice, kind men.’

Well, that ruled him out, Campbell thought. No one would ever describe him as nice or kind. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Tilly that she was much too exciting to be content with merely nice and that she would be bored rigid after a week, but he stopped himself just in time.

It wasn’t his business. He was leaving.

Focus on the new job, he told himself. Focus on Lisa and what it’s going to be like seeing her again. But all he could think about was Tilly—warm, desirable, messy Tilly, with the candlelight glowing in her dark blue eyes and the mouth that made his mind go blank.

Campbell had never met a woman so easy to talk to. He liked her spiky, self-deprecating wit and the animation in her face. He liked the smile that lit her up from inside, the glint in her eyes as she teased him. She was never still. She fiddled with the wax dribbling down the candles, or traced invisible patterns on the cloth with her glass. She sat back, and leant forward, folding her arms on the table and just about giving Campbell a heart attack as her cleavage deepened.

‘Let’s get you a taxi,’ he said gruffly when they at last came to leave. Not trusting himself to touch her, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walked beside her to the taxi rank in silence.

At least they didn’t have to wait. Campbell wasn’t at all sure what that would have done to his self-control. He should have gone with Tilly to see her home himself, but there was no way he could manage sitting in the back seat in the dark without reaching for her.

He leant through the window of the taxi at the head of the rank and handed the driver a note that would more than cover Tilly’s fare. ‘Make sure she gets safely in,’ he said as the driver pocketed it quickly, unable to believe his luck.

‘There’s no need for that,’ Tilly protested. ‘I can get my own taxi.’

‘I know you can, but I’m getting this one.’

Tilly opened her mouth to argue, then shut it again. Campbell’s jaw was set at an angle that suggested she could argue all night and it still wouldn’t make any difference.

‘Well … thank you,’ she said awkwardly instead. ‘And thank you for dinner. It was lovely.’ At least she assumed it had been. Too fixated on trying to keep her gaze from crawling all over Campbell, she could barely remember what she had eaten. Never had she paid less attention to food.

‘I’ll see you soon then.’ Campbell’s voice was brisk, but when their eyes met, the air shortened alarmingly between them.

‘Yes,’ she managed on a gasp.

‘Goodnight, Tilly,’ he said.

‘Goodnight.’

Tilly’s heart was pounding and her legs felt as if they were about to buckle. She badly needed to sit down. Get in the car, her mind screamed at her. Get in the car—now! You’ll regret it if you don’t, you know you will.

So it wasn’t as if she didn’t know what she should do, but somehow Tilly couldn’t move. She couldn’t even drag her eyes from his, so there was no way later she could claim that she had been caught unawares, as her mind was pointing out in no uncertain terms. This is so not a good idea, her mind scolded, but it was too late to back away now and, anyway, Tilly didn’t want to. Her mind might be backing away and moaning no, no, no, but her body was screaming yes, yes, yes!

And her body won.

As if in slow motion, she saw Campbell lower his head towards her, and then his mouth captured hers and sensations Tilly hadn’t even known existed exploded inside her. She parted her lips on a gasp that was part thrill, part alarm at the dizzying loss of control as she felt herself submerge beneath a rush of response. Every cell in her body was clamouring to press closer, taste more, touch again and again and again…

Her arms went round his waist and she leant into him, giddy with the feel of him. His lips were warm and sure as they explored her mouth, his tongue teasing, his hands hard and insistent. He smelt wonderful, tasted better, and she clung to him almost feverishly. He was her solid anchor, her safe harbour, the one point of certainty in a world that was unravelling with electrifying speed, and she kissed him back, oblivious to the waiting taxi, oblivious to anything except the gathering need and the deep, dark pulse of desire inside her.

And then, abruptly, it was over.

Campbell stepped back and opened the taxi door. His jaw was set and a muscle jerked in his cheek, but Tilly was too dazed to take much else in. Somehow she got herself into the back seat of the taxi. Campbell closed the door without a word and the taxi drove off, leaving him standing on the pavement and cursing himself for a fool.

CHAPTER EIGHT

TILLY fumbled with the seat belt. Her body was raging with disappointment and frustration. Why had he stopped? She had no idea now of how long the kiss had lasted. Could it really have been just a brief goodnight kiss?

But then why would it mean any more to Campbell? Tilly asked herself disconsolately. He must have picked up on the vibes she had tried so hard to suppress all night, and realised that all she could think about was touching him. Maybe he had thought to himself, why not? Or, worse, had decided to indulge her.

Body still thumping, she scowled miserably out of the window. I told you so, her mind said smugly. I knew you’d regret it.

But she didn’t, not really. She had had to know what it felt like to kiss him, to hold him. The trouble was that now that she did, she wanted it again, she wanted more. Tilly had never had much time for the saying that a taste of honey was worse than none at all, but it was starting to make more sense.

Perhaps she could have more. The daring thought slid into her mind and she sat up straighter, as if shocked at her own presumption.

If she made it clear to Campbell that she had no expectations of any relationship, if she could convince him that it would just be a physical thing as far as she was concerned, would he be prepared to kiss her again? To make love to her? To share a night where they could shrug off the past and the future, where they could put aside hopes and fears, and not think at all, where nothing would matter but touching and tasting and feeling and the heady swell of pleasure?

Tilly’s mouth was dry, her heart hammering at the mere thought of it. A single night … Would it be worth it? Yes, her body shouted. Yes, yes, yes!

What about your poor heart? her mind countered immediately, the way Tilly had known it would. What if Campbell breaks it?

She wouldn’t let him break it, Tilly decided firmly. She would keep her heart intact. There would be no question of loving him. It would just be…sex.

She could suggest it, and see what Campbell said. She was a grown woman, he was a man. Surely they could talk about sex without embarrassment. He could only say no. It would be perfectly simple.

Or would it?

Tilly’s confidence, ever fragile, faltered whenever she imagined facing Campbell with her proposition. Campbell, about Friday night, she could begin, but she couldn’t decide what to say after that. Could we try that again, she might suggest, but next time, don’t stop and put me in a taxi.

Perhaps it would be better to be more upfront. I was wondering how you felt about a brief affair before you go? Somehow Tilly couldn’t see herself carrying that one off.

She couldn’t decide whether she was glad or sorry that she wouldn’t see him the next day. The arrangement had been that the participants in the competition would have the weekend off, presumably so that they could go home if necessary, but when Campbell had indicated that he wouldn’t be going back to London it had seemed only polite to invite him for Sunday lunch.

Seb and Harry were coming home for the weekend on Saturday, and Tilly had been pleased at first. She had thought that her aching awareness of Campbell would be easier to handle if the boys were there to dilute the atmosphere, but now she wished they were staying at their respective universities and partying too hard the way they usually did. She loved Harry and Seb dearly, but she could hardly propose an affair in front of her younger brothers.

As it turned out, Seb and Harry were both still in bed nursing hangovers when Campbell arrived on Sunday. Having practised exactly what she would say if the opportunity arose, Tilly promptly forgot every word when she opened the door. The sight of him was like a fist thumping into her stomach, driving the breath from her lungs and leaving her reeling with a strange mixture of shock and delight.

Somehow she’d expected him to have changed since that kiss, but he looked exactly the same as always: cool, contained, faintly austere. It was hard to believe that only thirty-six hours ago he had held her hard against him and kissed her, that the stern mouth had been warm and sure and exciting on hers.

Campbell’s expression gave nothing away. The pale, piercing eyes were guarded, Tilly thought, and her entrails churned. It was all very well deciding to be cool and upfront, but it all seemed a lot harder when you were faced with six feet of solid, detached male.

Flustered, she led the way to the kitchen and explained about Seb and Harry in far too much detail.

‘They should be down any minute now. Would you like a coffee while we’re waiting?’

‘No, thanks. I’m fine.’

He might be fine, but she needed something to do to distract herself from the memory of that kiss that reverberated in the air between them. Tilly busied herself checking the meat, and tried to ignore the silence yawning around them.

This was ridiculous, she told herself, exasperated. She was being pathetic. It was just Campbell, for heaven’s sake. She had been able to talk to him perfectly easily before, so she should be able to now. Taking off the oven gloves, she turned from the oven with a deep breath.

‘About Friday night,’ she began, exactly as she had planned. She even sounded calm, which was quite something given that her nerves were jumping and jittering and jangling in a way that that made it hard to think, let alone string a coherent sentence together.

She didn’t get a chance to say any more. Campbell held up a hand to stop her.

‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘You don’t need to say any more.’

‘Er…I don’t?’

‘I need to apologise,’ he said stiffly. ‘I was out of order on Friday night. I didn’t mean to kiss you, I was just…I wasn’t thinking,’ he confessed. ‘All I can say is that I’m sorry, and that it won’t happen again. I’ll keep my hands to myself in the future.’

Ah.

How was she supposed to respond to that? Tilly wondered. Clearly Campbell regretted the kiss and had no intention of repeating it, so she could hardly force herself upon him now. Her heart twisted at the realisation, but the only thing to do was put a good face on it.

At least it wouldn’t be difficult. She had years of experience of being ‘good old Tilly’ who could be relied upon to dispel any potential awkwardness with a smiling face.

‘It must have been that wine,’ she said lightly. ‘I don’t think either of us was thinking clearly on Friday evening. That’ll teach you to leave the choice up to the wine waiter!’

There was no mistaking the relief in Campbell’s expression. He had obviously been dreading a scene, or that she might do exactly what she had been planning to do and throw herself at him.

‘It’s good of you to take it like that,’ he said. ‘I’d be sorry if I had spoiled things between us.’

‘There’s no question of that,’ said Tilly, keeping her bright smile firmly in place.

‘I was afraid I might have jeopardised our chances on the programme.’

Of course, the programme. Tilly had almost forgotten about that. It was telling that Campbell hadn’t. He might be momentarily distracted by a kiss, but he would never lose sight of his ultimate goal.

‘The only thing that will really jeopardise them is if you can’t make Cleo’s cake,’ she told him and he grimaced.

‘I know. It’s harder than I expected,’ he admitted.

Convincing herself that it was all for the best was harder than Tilly had expected, too. No matter how fiercely she reminded herself that he was leaving soon, or that he was still hung up on his ex-wife, disappointment still twisted painfully inside her. She made herself remember how much it had hurt when Olivier had gone, of how much better off on her own she would be in the long run, but none of it helped.

There was nothing to be done but keep the smile on her face, but it was feeling fixed by the time first Seb and then Harry appeared, yawning and rubbing their rumpled hair. In spite of their hangovers, they brightened considerably at Tilly’s suggestion that they take Campbell to the pub while she finished getting lunch ready.

Campbell was all set to demur. ‘We can’t leave you alone to do all the work,’ he protested.

‘Honestly, it’s better if we do,’ Seb confided, and Harry nodded vigorous agreement. ‘She’ll just get ratty if we hang around.’

‘We could help,’ Campbell suggested, but they only looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head.

Tilly rolled her eyes. ‘Their idea of “helping” was to send me off for a weekend in the Highlands and look where that got me! No, you go,’ she told him. ‘Seb’s right, you’ll all just get in the way. There’s not much more to do, in any case.’

She was desperate to get rid of them and have a few minutes to herself so that she could stop putting on a front.

Seeing that she was serious, Campbell let himself be persuaded, and the three men walked down to the local pub together. Tilly’s brothers were very young but engaging company, and they were obviously very fond of their sister.

Over a beer, they told him all about Olivier. ‘What a tosser!’ said Harry dismissively. ‘I’m glad Tilly isn’t with him any more, but she was really cut up about him. She deserves better.’

Seb nodded. ‘I mean, we give her a hard time, of course, but she’s done everything for us. She stayed in Allerby and worked so that we could have a home and now we’ve gone we think it’s time she got out and had a life for herself. That’s why we put her up for this television thing. We thought it would be good for her. Left to herself, she’d just stay stuck in her kitchen and the truth is we don’t like to think of her being on her own.’

‘No,’ his twin chimed in. ‘Tilly needs someone to love, and she’s not going to find anyone if she doesn’t go out and look. The trouble is, she’s got lousy taste. Knowing her, she’ll just end up with another loser like Olivier!’

That made Campbell feel even worse about kissing her the other night. He had acted purely on instinct, and he had been taken aback by how sweet she had tasted, how good it had felt to hold her in his arms—how right it had seemed.

It had been a huge effort to make himself stop but, if he hadn’t, there was only one way it could have ended. Rather late in the day, Campbell had remembered how honest Tilly had been about not wanting to get involved. She had been badly hurt, he had known that, and she deserved better than a Friday night fumble.