Forget Me Not (Escape Contemporary Romance) (13 page)

‘I can’t help you,’ Claire said.

‘The situation worries me. I don’t want to think I’m like them.’

She didn’t want to think that either, but had seen a different side to him before they separated, one she didn’t like. He’d get fed up and cut Claire down with a few choice words, and had made her feel she wasn’t good enough for him. The problems had come one another: Claire hadn’t liked classical music the way he did, didn’t have a refined taste for the arts, didn’t appreciate the finer things in life. Stefan’s list had been long.

Then there’d be the lengthy silences, times that made her wish he’d say something, anything, just to acknowledge her existence.

Stefan had always been arrogant. At some point, he’d become mean as well.

’You’ve always been a bit of a snob,’ Claire said.

‘Have I?’

He sounded surprised but that wasn’t going to stop her. ‘In some ways, you got more elitist over the years. When we first met, you were into rock and roll in a big way and had the most incredible CD collection. You still do. You used to listen and read up on the history surrounding the genre. You knew who played on which records and which musicians they’d played with, and all manner of other useless information. I used to tease you about it.’

‘What was wrong with that?’

‘Nothing. But then you decided your tastes had matured and that you were interested in more sophisticated pastimes. You got into opera, but deep down I don’t think any of it excited you as much as good old fashioned rock and roll did.’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe I liked both.’

‘Perhaps.’ But Claire didn’t think so.

‘Did you enjoy the opera?’

‘Not really. I just kept you company.’ She smiled. ‘I was always a rock and roll gal.’

Stefan turned to face her. ‘Please tell me I wasn’t as bad as my parents.’

‘You weren’t,’ she said, and it was the truth.

He looked relieved. ‘Enough about me. I want to know about you, too. You never told me your father was an alcoholic.’

‘I try not to think about it. Most of the memories I have of him are bad and even the good one are tainted. I remember when I was about five, he’d take me and Sophie down to the park to play and throw the ball. Simple stuff like that but I loved it. Bit by bit, though, he stopped taking us there or anywhere else. So, when I look back, I wonder why he stopped spending time with us, why he chose the bottle over us.’

‘Do you know why?’

‘I wish I did. But that was the good part, the good days.’

‘And when it got bad?’

‘He started knocking Mum around. Not in front of Sophie and me but we knew what was going on and it affected us,’ Claire said, frowning and looking down at her hands. ‘Mum tried to shield us but I started having headaches and nightmares and wetting the bed. Then one night, Dad got drunk and locked us out of the house. We slept under the back porch, with the three of us huddled up together. I was the lucky one because I was the smallest and got to sleep in the middle where it was warmest—not that we really slept. That night, Mum promised that would never happen again and she kept her word. The next day, she kicked my father out.’

Living without their father had made her mother more protective of the two girls, made her more determined to do her best and never let them down again.

Claire remembered confiding in her best friend about what had happened, but she hadn’t understood, hadn’t even come close. Years later, Sophie told her she had a similar experience when she’d tried to talk to a teacher about it. Even through the worst of times, though, Claire never felt like she was on her own. She’d always had her mum and Sophie. They’d drawn together because of it, had become closer.

‘Did you see your father again?’ Stefan asked.

‘Once or twice, when he came back to tell Mum he had it all under control. He begged for forgiveness but Mum turned him away. She had to; he hadn’t changed. He hadn’t given up the drink, never would have, and ended up dead a few years later at the age
of forty-five. So you see, your parents don’t know the half of it—but they’re right, my family background isn’t exactly a sparkling example of respectability.’

Stefan slid his hand onto her thigh, his touch reassuring. ‘You haven’t had an easy run but your upbringing has made you stronger, made you willing to work harder for a better life. Even now, you could’ve chosen the easy path, pretended I wasn’t your problem.’

Abandoning Stefan like her father had abandoned her all those years ago was never an option. She knew what that felt like and wasn’t about to do that to Stefan, no matter what the end of their relationship had been like.

Stefan’s hand left her thigh as he reached for his glass. He knocked back a large mouthful before placing the empty glass on the coffee table, and then leaned back on the sofa, draping his arm across behind her.

The move made her feel like a teenager, a girl out on a first date at the movies with a shy guy who was just getting to know her. But Claire wasn’t a teenager anymore and Stefan had never been timid.

He held her gaze. ‘I don’t know about you but this evening has been exhausting. I need to wind down or I’ll never be able to get to sleep tonight.’

An understatement, if she’d ever heard one.

‘You’ve got that right,’ she added.

‘I could do with a hot shower. Or a cold one. I’m not sure which.’

‘There’s always the pool.’

Stefan’s eyes lit up. ‘The pool?’

Claire had almost forgotten. ‘Didn’t I tell you about it? On the rooftop.’

‘I don’t think you did.’ He leaned across for the whisky and glasses. ‘Let’s head up there.’

She nodded towards the bottle and stood. ‘I won’t have any more to drink.’

Stefan placed the items back on the table. ‘Then neither will I.’

Taking her hand, he led her to the door, but she stepped back in to quickly grab his jacket and her keys.

‘I’m going to need both of these,’ Claire said. ‘It’s a cool night. We can take the stairs, as it’s just one flight up.’

When they reached the rooftop, Claire slid her key into the door and pushed it open. Stepping into the crisp night air, she slipped Stefan’s jacket over her shoulders.

He stood behind her, hands on her upper arms as he looked around. Claire felt petite and secure under his grasp.

Taking her hand, he stepped towards the edge of the pool. The water looked inviting, as it shimmered with the lights at the bottom of the pool. She’d always thought the pool looked glamorous at night, like it was a different world. I

With the deck chairs scattered on the paving and the potted silver birches shielding them from the city beyond, Claire felt like were at a resort. Only the fresh night air reminded her that this wasn’t a tropical paradise.

‘I feel much more relaxed already.’ Stefan turned to face her. ‘Can I swim?’

She giggled. ‘What kind of question is that?’

‘Can I swim?’ he repeated.

Realizing Stefan was serious, she said, ‘You swim like you do everything else. Magnificently.’

He grinned. ‘Well, I’m about to find out.’

Letting go of her hand, he unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it over his shoulders and tossed it onto the deck behind him.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘What does it look like I’m doing? Going for a swim.’

‘Now?’

‘Why not?’

‘Where are your bathers?’

‘I don’t need them.’

Claire stepped back to give him some room as he kicked off his shoes, socks and trousers, standing there before her in his boxers.

Smiling, she couldn’t help but notice his wonderful physique, his toned torso and slim hips. He’d always taken care to exercise, though that probably hadn’t been uppermost on his mind over the last couple of weeks.

His memory might have failed him but his body was clearly in peak condition.

Hands on the waistband of his boxers, Stefan was about to pull them down.

‘Don’t,’ she said.

‘But you said I could swim.’

‘Don’t take your shorts off.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Surely it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.’

He’d always been so easy going about nudity; Claire had not. When they’d been together and things had been good, he wouldn’t have given a second thought to stripping off.

‘I’d appreciate it if you’d keep them on,’ she said. ‘That’s all.’

He shrugged. ‘If you like.’

Stefan walked to the edge of the pool and lifted his arms up, the muscles along his side elongating with definition as he looked like a sculpted statue. Pushing off, he executed a perfect dive. As Stefan glided into the water, his shorts slid down, revealing taut buttocks that were a shade paler than the rest of his olive skin.

So much for the boxers staying on, Claire thought, unable to keep from smiling. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been such a prude, after all. He looked pretty damn good.

Stefan pulled his pants up as he swam, stopping when he reached the far edge. As he looked back at her, Claire hoped he hadn’t spotted her appreciative smile but his grin told her he had.

‘Maybe I should just ditch the pants,’ he teased.

‘Maybe you should concentrate on your swimming stroke.’

Turning away, Claire walked over to a deck chair and sat down. He was right. It was nothing she hadn’t seen before and she shouldn’t make such a fuss.

Stefan swam several laps freestyle as if his body hadn’t forgotten how. There were probably other things he hadn’t forgotten how to do, too. His motor skills seemed to be unaffected by his condition.

Floating on his back, he made his way lazily back to the edge of the pool near where Claire was seated and hoisted himself up to sit on the edge of the pool. She wondered if he was doing that on purpose, showing off his body that way.

‘You should take a dip.’

‘You were always a much better swimmer than me,’ Claire said, as if that were an answer.

’The pool’s warm. It must be heated.’ When she nodded, Stefan added, ‘You’ll be warmer in the pool than out. This water feels amazing.’

‘I-I’m sure it does.’

She knew he’d pick up on her hesitation. The offer was tempting.

‘You can leave your underwear on. If it bothers you, I promise I won’t look.’

‘It’s not that.’ The evening had been filled with tension, so a relaxing dip would do her good, damn it. ‘Okay,’ she said.

Kicking off her heels, Claire stood and started to slide off her clothes. Instinctively, she turned her back to him to undress. There was only the dress to come off. It wouldn’t take long.

Suddenly, she heard wet footsteps on the deck behind her.

‘I’ll help you with the zip,’ Stefan offered.

‘You’ll drip on me.’ It was a childish response but she couldn’t help it.

‘No, I won’t.’

She felt the zipper slacken between her shoulder blades as he slid it down her spine to, her lower back. Claire turned her head. ‘There’s a little hook at the top.’

‘So there is.’

As he undid it, the dress became loose and she suddenly felt exposed.

‘I can manage the rest.’

‘I wouldn’t want to drip on you,’ Stefan said as he walked back to the edge of the pool.

Leaning forward, Claire let the bodice slide from her shoulders and the rest of the dress slipped off with ease. As she stepped out of it, she glanced up to see Stefan’s gaze resting on her, his eyes drinking her in.

She draped the dress across the deck chair, her movements self-conscious. It’d been a long time since he’d looked at her that way, with longing, lust and love.

Claire walked to the far edge of the pool, away from Stefan and grateful she wasn’t wearing skimpier underwear. She’d chosen simple, black satin panties and a matching bra so her dress would glide unobstructed over the fabric. Claire reminded herself she that was no more exposed than if she would have been in her bikini.

But her clothes, or lack of them, weren’t the issue. The problem was Stefan’s searing gaze, the fire in his eyes seeming to burn away the fabric away before him.

Claire dipped her toes into the water and it warm, as Stefan had promised.

‘Dive in.’ He was grinning. ‘If I can do it, you can too.’

And have her underwear slip off? No way. Edging her bottom onto the side of the pool, Claire twisted around. Keeping her hands on the pool’s edge, she slowly lowered herself into the water: first her legs slipped in, then her hips, her shoulders, each part of her body, until her head slipped under, too.

She stayed underwater for a few moments, engulfed by the gentle warmth of the water and enjoying the strange sensation of being somewhere else, separated from the rest of the universe.

But as Claire lifted her head above and sucked in some air, she felt the water lapping around her as Stefan approached.

She turned her head and saw his wet hair gleaming behind her, his pale eyes sparkling. He was always so confident, so sure of himself, even now when he’d lost himself. How could that be?

‘I’m going to do a few laps.’ Claire kicked off, swimming to the other side of the pool.

When she got to the far side, she saw Stefan was still standing at the shallow end and watching her, his strong arms draped across the edge of the pool.

Claire did a few more laps, enjoying the warmth of the water as she glided through it, but though the pool was small, she wasn’t a strong swimmer and had to stop. Lifting her arms onto the pool’s edge, she rested her head on her arms.

Stefan waded across to join her. ‘I knew you’d like the water.’

‘I do.’

‘It’s relaxing and I think after tonight’s dinner, we both need to relax.’

‘Hmm.’

He might be relaxed. Claire was anything but.

Perhaps he sensed this, as he moved behind her and moved his hands onto her shoulders. His hands were warmer than the water, his touch firm as he pressed his thumbs in little circles and began to work away at the knots in her muscles.

Stefan knew what he was doing, his movements as practiced as a trained masseuse. She felt herself melt under his touch, felt the tension in her shoulders disappear, felt all her problems slip away.

Lifting her head, Claire let him knead the muscles of her neck until she felt completely relaxed.