Ice and a Slice (11 page)

“Hello, gorgeous.” His voice was gravel and velvet and his black eyes scanned her face, her breasts, her legs while his mouth curved in approval. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

“Were you?” Why couldn’t she think of something more intelligent to say? He was wearing faded cut-off jeans and a black Metallica T-shirt; his arms were to die for – tanned and muscular – and he was standing close enough for her to smell the scent of him: something spicy mixed with tobacco smoke and lust.

He touched her arm. Her skin shivered in response. She knew she’d feel the imprints of his fingers for weeks.

“Who’s this?” he said.

“What?” SJ turned to see her sister sashaying towards them – she must have been practising that sashay in the mirror. The sunset highlighted her hair and turned it to gold; her white top clung to her breasts (SJ realised suddenly she wasn’t wearing a bra – when had she taken that off?) and her bare midriff was satin-smooth. She looked like an angel who’d been tempted away from heaven towards the dark side.

“We’re sisters.”

“Is that so?”

Alison looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “Are you man enough to handle two women?”

Jed laughed, a little uncertainly. SJ felt her face flame. “Pack it in, Alison.” She kept her voice light and Alison giggled and then, to her relief, sauntered away towards the group who were playing beach ball.

“Sorry about that.” SJ turned back to Jed.

“No worries.” He spread his hands in front of him and smiled. He had a way of tipping back his head when he smiled. It made him look incredibly sexy. SJ’s senses swam with his nearness. She forgot about her pale, unshaven legs.

While they queued up for burgers and hot dogs, Jed kept up a stream of banter. SJ didn’t catch everything he said, partly because he had quite a strong Irish accent and partly because she was keeping an eye on what Alison was doing, but she could have listened to him all night. The texture of his voice was enough. It lilted around her, as calming as the sea. She’d always liked voices, and she liked the way he kept touching her – tiny little pinprick touches that set her skin on fire.

As the skies darkened and the moon rose to draw its shimmering light path across the black sea, SJ began to relax. The evening was turning out better than she’d dared hope. All around her was the low buzz of mellowed-out conversation and someone was smoking a joint not far away. Someone else was strumming an acoustic guitar, its melody blending with the ancient rhythm of the sea.

Alison was playing beach ball with the group of lads – they’d got progressively more rowdy, but what the heck, you were only young once. SJ could have forgiven anyone anything at that moment. Jed was being very attentive.

His glances were getting more lingering, his touches more daring. Considering his reputation, he was taking things very slowly. SJ was enjoying it without overtly encouraging him. She didn’t want him to think she was easy, but she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t interested either. The last time they’d met she’d been on a girls’ night out and he’d bought her a drink, but the club had been too noisy for much chat and although they’d flirted he hadn’t asked for her number.

“Word is that he was seeing someone at the time but it wasn’t serious,” Joanne had told her afterwards. “He’s finished with her now.”

SJ didn’t know if the ‘finishing’ had anything to do with her, but she did know that Jed was going to kiss her soon. Every atom of her body tingled with anticipation.

“Another cup of wine, Sarah-Jane?” The way he said her name was glorious. They were half sitting, half lying on the sand. Their shadows had already merged and become one. A prelude to the moment SJ knew was on the horizon, the moment they would touch each other, skin against skin, for the first splintering, diamond-bright time.

Jed leant across her to refill her plastic cup. In the same instant her face was sprinkled with cold water. SJ jumped and sat up. “What on earth…?”

Alison’s drunken giggle smashed into the moment. “Are you coming skinny-dipping, sis? It’s fan-taaaa-stic.” She shook out her hair, showering SJ and Jed with another volley of freezing droplets, and her towel, which wasn’t really big enough to cover her, slipped to expose one breast.

With a mixture of embarrassment and alarm SJ realised that a) Alison wasn’t wearing anything beneath her towel and b) she was completely pissed.

Furious, she stood up. She wasn’t sure exactly what she intended to do, but Alison darted away from her, stumbled on the soft sand and went sprawling.

“Oops,” she called, and burst into another fit of giggling.

“I think your sister needs a bigger towel,” Jed observed, leaning back on his elbows and doing nothing about finding one. He wasn’t alone. Several other people were now looking in Alison’s direction, the girls with disapproval, the lads with blatant interest. Alison rolled over, let go of the towel altogether and rubbed her face with her hands.

“I’ve got sand in my eyes.”

SJ scouted around frantically for Alison’s rucksack, but Joanne beat her to it. She was coming across with a beach towel, arms outstretched. SJ shot her a grateful glance as they both crouched beside Alison, shielding her with their bodies, while Joanne slipped the beach towel around her narrow shoulders. Alison was still rubbing her eyes. She’d gone very white.

“For God’s sake,” SJ remonstrated. “How much have you drunk?”

“Hardly any,” Alison said, and promptly threw up on the sand.

SJ wasn’t sure exactly when Jed slipped away into the moon-drenched night. It could have been at that point, or it could have been later on, when she was helping Alison to rinse her face under the cold tap on the prom. Either way, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t see him again. Part of her ached with disappointment. She’d had such high hopes: he was so darkly beautiful, and she’d had the sense they were on the brink of something special. But a larger part of her was worried about Alison, who had been spectacularly ill several times.

SJ had forced her to drink lots of cups of water and someone had given her a couple of Paracetamol. One guy had commented that it was disgusting drinking yourself into such a state – and Alison was obviously an alcoholic in the making – and another of her more helpful friends had laughed and suggested Alison should sleep it off. But SJ daren’t take her home until she’d sobered up. Dad would go spare and Mum would probably cry, and she would almost certainly get the blame.

Now, a couple of hours later, everyone but SJ, Alison and Joanne had drifted off home. The three of them were sitting in a line on the concrete steps that separated the prom from the beach.

“Thank you,” SJ said to Joanne, who was pouring black coffee from a Thermos flask into a cup and handing it to Alison.

“I don’t like coffee,” Alison grumbled, but at least – finally – there was some colour back in her cheeks.

“Where’s Nick?” SJ asked. “Is he giving you a lift home?”

Joanne shook back her mop of brown hair. “We had another row earlier,” she said ruefully. “And he stormed off, silly bugger.” Her voice was light, but SJ could see she was more upset than she was letting on.

“I’m really sorry.” She edged along the step and slipped an arm around Joanne’s plump shoulders.

“I’m not. I won’t be wasting any tears on Naff Nick.” The slight wobble in her voice betrayed her and for a while they sat quietly listening to the eternal swish of waves against the shore as the black sea inched its way back up the beach.

“How are you going to get home then?” SJ said at last, deciding it might be better to concentrate on practicalities.

“I’ll have to ring my stepdad.” Joanne didn’t sound very keen at the prospect. SJ knew she didn’t get on with her stepdad. “I think I’ve missed the last bus.”

“Oh, don’t bother him, Jo. We can share a taxi – we’ve got to get back to the station anyway.”

“That’s in the opposite direction,” Joanne pointed out. “Don’t worry. If I can’t get hold of him, I can hitch. I haven’t got any money anyway.”

“I have,” SJ said, trying not to think of the dress in Next. “We can drop you off on the way.”

As they slowly headed back along the sand dusted promenade Alison spoke for the first time in ages. “What happened with that bloke you fancied? Couldn’t we scrounge a lift home with him?”

“He left hours ago,” SJ said, amazed that in all the kerfuffle she had managed to push Jed out of her mind. But now he was back he wasn’t so easy to shift. The night breeze goose-bumped her skin and she swallowed an ache of regret that was suddenly fathoms deep.

“Do you think it was your legs that put him off?” Alison contemplated SJ’s legs with a frown. “I suppose they do look a bit hairy, but they’re not that bad in the dark.”

SJ stared at her, open-mouthed, but before she could think of a stinging enough retort, Alison went on breezily, “He was pretty full of himself anyway, wasn’t he? If you ask me, you’re better off without him.”

Chapter Thirteen

Would it have altered the course of history if she’d told Alison how hurt she had really felt that night? Or if she had told their mother about Alison’s drunken skinny-dipping instead of keeping quiet? Would Alison have thought more about the consequences of her actions if she’d been punished?

When they’d argued about it afterwards Alison had finally confessed that she’d drunk too much because she felt left out.

“You were off laughing and chatting with your mates – and getting chatted up by that gorgeous bloke – and I was just sitting on my own, bored.”

SJ didn’t remember it quite like that but she’d given her sister the benefit of the doubt. Even so, the memory of Jed and what might have been was a raw spot on her psyche for several weeks. For a while she hoped he might contact her – they hadn’t exchanged numbers, but they had mutual friends. Then she saw him in town with a really pretty girl on his arm. She’d pretended not to notice them and had walked swiftly in the opposite direction. And slowly the bittersweet regret had faded away.

Eighteen months later, in the canteen at university, she had met Derek Anderson. She’d been sitting at a table in the corner, immersed in a copy of
Hello,
and had barely glanced up when he approached and said softly, “Is it okay if I sit with you?”

“Sure.”

“I’m not a student,” he added, and now she did look up, a little irritated at this further interruption. Couldn’t he see she was busy?

Her first impression was that he was quite ordinary-looking. Brown hair, brown eyes, and not terribly good skin.

“I’m working undercover for the Drugs Squad. You won’t give me away, will you?”

His face was deadly serious and she frowned – she supposed it could have been true. There was always a drugs problem in universities – well, there was according to the papers. She hadn’t noticed anyone doing anything untoward, apart from smoking the odd joint, which hardly counted. All students smoked dope. She did it herself at parties and had the odd line of speed if she wanted to stay up all night.

“See that guy over there – the one with the John Lennon glasses and the moustache? Don’t make it obvious you’re looking,” he warned. “I don’t want him to know we’re on to him. That piece of low life is the main supplier of crack cocaine to this campus. You wouldn’t believe how many innocent lives he’s destroyed.”

As far as SJ could tell – without making it obvious she was looking, of course – the bloke he’d indicated was Jack Watson, editor of the uni magazine and reputed to be in line for a high flying career in his father’s Fleet Street paper.

“Pull the other one, it’s got bells on,” she muttered. “Everyone knows he wouldn’t touch drugs with a barge pole.” Hmm, rather a surplus of clichés for someone studying English literature, but she’d been too taken aback to think of anything clever.

“Very good cover, I’ll grant you.” Derek looked deep into her eyes in a way that was both off-putting and unnervingly sexy. “Do me a favour and walk out of here with me. Just act natural, like we’re talking about an assignment or something. I’d really, really appreciate it.”

“Do me a favour and bugger off,” SJ said, sure now she was being wound up and that a group of her friends were skulking nearby to see what she would do next. “I’m busy.” She indicated the magazine. “Or hadn’t you noticed?”

“Please. I can’t tell you how important this is. We’re at such a delicate stage in operations. I’ve just taken several pictures of the suspect and I have to get them back to my boss.” He revealed a tiny camera in the palm of his hand and SJ looked at it thoughtfully. She’d never seen one that small. In fact, she’d never seen anything like it. It was beautifully made, a little masterpiece of engineering.

As she hesitated, Derek went on softly. “If he realises what I’m doing – if he gets the merest hint, I’m dead. So are a lot of other people. All those innocent lives – wasted. You wouldn’t want it on your conscience, believe me.”

That was true. Despite herself, she was starting to get sucked in. And so what if she was being wound up? She wasn’t actually busy at all. She put the magazine down on the table and gave him her full attention.

He smiled. Then he reached across and drew the side of his index finger across her jaw line – very soft, very sure of himself – all the while holding her gaze with his intense brown eyes. And to SJ’s amazement she found the whole of her body was awakening to his touch. Never in her life had anyone had such a devastating effect on her.

It was for that reason, and not because she really believed his story, that she got up and the two of them walked side by side out of the canteen. Just outside the door, Derek flattened himself against the wall, arms and legs spread-eagled. “Oh, shit, there’s another one. Don’t move. Over by that bush – did you see him?”

SJ had seen something by the bush, although she wasn’t sure what: a shadow – maybe a dog or cat, or something bigger, skulking on all fours. A quiver of adrenaline ran down her spine and suddenly she was caught up in the game.

“We’ll have to go another way. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and she ran with him down the cinder track that bordered the tennis courts and led towards the nearest accommodation. This was more interesting than reading
Hello
anyway, even if it was only because he was still holding her hand. She half expected to hear the sound of running footsteps behind them. But all was still. And when Derek finally agreed that it should be safe to walk now, they’d obviously shaken them off – she slowed to a breathless halt with him.

He let go of her hand. “Thanks for that. You’ve saved my life. You’re Sarah-Jane, aren’t you?”

She nodded, her heart returning to something like normal. “You’re not really from the Drugs Squad, are you?”

“No – good crack though, wasn’t it?” His eyes were full of laughter and then he snorted with mirth and doubled over. SJ was torn between stomping off and joining in. In the end she joined in. It was impossible not to. He had one of the most infectious laughs in the universe.

Soon they were rolling around on the grass verge not far from the main entrance completely out of control. Every time one of them stopped laughing the other one started them off again. Not because it had even been that funny – in the end they were laughing because it just felt so damn good to laugh. Finally SJ begged him to stop.

“I think I’ve ruptured something,” she gasped, rolling onto her side before propping her head on her elbow and glancing at him through her lashes. “My stomach hurts.”

He mirrored her movements so they were facing each other, lying side by side on the grass. SJ was vaguely aware of the distant rumble of traffic, and the closer sound of birdsong, and the smell of fish and chip wrappers wafting from a nearby bin. But most of all she was aware of the frantic beating of her heart, which for some reason was out of control again. He looked different from this angle. His eyes had little golden flecks in their depths and she could smell the indefinable scent of male skin. He looked very, very attractive.

SJ had never believed in love at first sight, particularly not when the man in question had just spent a good twenty minutes lying to you through his teeth. But it had been funny. Actually, it had been bloody funny. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so uncontrollably and for so long, but she didn’t feel like laughing any more. She was feeling something quite different now. Every nerve ending she had tingled in response to the look in his eyes.

For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but then he shifted position, moving onto his knees until he was kneeling beside her, the worn fabric of his jeans making indents in the summer grass.

“A hurt stomach – huh? We can’t have that. I’m going to have to examine you, SJ. You can trust me, I’m a doctor.”

He grinned. His doctor voice was just as convincing as his undercover Drug Squad voice – perfectly modulated with just the right amount of concern and seriousness. “Now, perhaps if you could just lift your T-shirt up a tad for me, Miss...?”

“Carter,” she supplied.

“Thank you. Now, Miss Carter. Up with the T-shirt – no need to take it right off – then perhaps you can tell me exactly where it hurts?”

Mesmerised, she rolled onto her back, lifted her T-shirt and sucked in her stomach in case he thought she was fat.

His fingers skimmed the tiny strip of belly she’d exposed and she could hardly breathe. This is madness, you barely know him, squealed the voice of reason in her head.

Who cares? contradicted another voice, a much louder, more authoritative voice.

Everywhere he touched he sparked off quivers of lust. If he could do this while touching her stomach, she didn’t dare imagine what he might do given full reign of a proper erogenous zone. SJ closed her eyes in ecstasy. She could feel the sun on her face and the merest touch of breeze in her hair. What a pity they weren’t in a meadow instead of a public place. On second thoughts, what a good job they weren’t in a meadow.

Reality crashed in, and she opened her eyes and saw he was looking down at her through half-closed lids.

“Would kissing it better help, do you reckon?”

“Possibly,” SJ breathed.

She wasn’t at all surprised when he didn’t kiss her abdomen, but her mouth. Neither was she surprised when the kiss took her briefly off the planet and into orbit. Later she discovered he could give her orgasms just by kissing her. No man before or since had managed to do that. No man had ever come close.