Xander’s hand reached to the floor for his mobile, his eyes still tightly closed. He lifted it and blinked blearily at the screen. No messages. He doubted he would have slept through the message beeps because he’d tossed and turned all night, but he still needed to check. Just to make sure but there was nothing.
He’d rung Jeanie’s mobile more times than he could remember, her message bank was probably having a hissy fit and rejecting everything by now.
The green digits glowed — six-thirty. He turned the mobile over and over in his hand. Why wasn’t she answering his calls? He knew now he should have tried harder to stop her from leaving, pleaded with her to stay, but he hadn’t. He’d put his desire to get to the bank and the solicitor first. It had seemed like a good idea at the time; now he simply regretted it. He had to tell her, explain about the loan and explain the reason he had been so keen to get to get the monkey that was William Westward, off his back. So they could be together, so he had something to offer her. The possibility of a future together.
Xander collapsed back on the bed. What would she be doing right now? Probably still fast asleep, hair tousled, sprawled under the sheets. He rolled over and groaned, trying to ignore the insistent throb in his groin.
Jeanie, answer your mobile — haven’t you heard it ringing?
Sitting up, he thumped his hand against his forehead. How stupid could he be? Why had he bought her a mobile? Because she didn’t have one. Why didn’t she have one? Because Oldbridge didn’t get reception. She wouldn’t even have got his messages. Christ, she probably thought he’d taken her seriously when she had said she didn’t want to see him again. He scrolled through the yellow pages, searching for the landline number of the café. He’d seen a phone there hanging on the wall; they’d had to crop it out of one of the photographs. Was it too early to ring the café?
No. Definitely not.
Pacing across the floor, he tried to remember what Jeanie had said? They always got up early and Norma did the baking and Jeanie caught up with the office work.
Finally he found the café number and punched it in, his hand clasping the mobile so tightly the whites of his knuckles glowed in the half light of the bedroom as he sat back on the bed. It rang and rang. A great sigh of frustration poured over his lips and he realized with a shock he’d been holding his breath.
“Café Cinématique. Good morning. How can I help you on this bright and sunny morning?”
“Good morning, Norma.” A feeling of instant relief flooded him. All he needed to do was talk to Jeanie, then he could sort everything out. A curl of anticipation hit his gut. He needed to tell her face-to-face. He’d take the proof sheets up there, he’d worked on them until long after midnight and he had promised he’d show them to her before they went to Starstruck.
“Oh. It’s you.”
It wasn’t exactly the reception he’d been hoping for. He swallowed. “Yes, it’s Xander. I was wondering if I might speak with Jeanie.” Pushing the phone against his ear, he tried to pick up any background noise. Was she there? Was she listening to the conversation? His heart started pumping wildly. God, he needed to speak to her. No, he needed to see her, touch her. His stomach churned like a lovesick teenager.
“No, you may not, young man.”
Young man.
Norma obviously saw him in the same light and it didn’t sounding promising.
“She’s still asleep and absolutely exhausted by the run around you’ve given her. You made me a promise and I don’t take kindly to people who break their promises.”
Xander raked his hand through his hair, feeling even more like the teenager than he had a few moments ago. “I’m sorry?” he stuttered.
“You told me you would take care of my Jeanie and when she got back she was more upset than I’ve seen her in a long time. You had no right taking advantage of her.”
“I’m sorry?”
God! I’m beginning to sound like a broken record.
“Jeanie told me what happened.”
She did? How much of what happened and in how much detail?
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but if you think I’m going to allow her to become somebody’s fancy woman then you’ve got another think coming.”
Fully awake, Xander swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, totally astounded by Norma’s attack.
“Norma.”
“Yes.”
Xander had seen the lioness syndrome in action when he’d filmed in Africa but he’d never seen it in full force with humans before — obviously he was going to have to tread very carefully. “Norma, if it’s convenient, I’d like to drive up to the café and see you and Jeanie. I’ve got the proof sheets for the magazine spread and Jeanie needs to approve them.”
“Humph!” His mobile almost sprang out of his hand. “I don’t know. Not before lunchtime.”
“Right. I’ll see you after lunch. Would you please tell Jeanie I’m coming?”
“Of course I will. What do you think I am? I don’t keep secrets.”
Deciding discretion was definitely the better part of valor he said, “Bye, Norma. See you later.”
Xander dropped the mobile onto the tangled bedcovers and lay back on the bed, unsure how to react to Norma’s outburst. As much as he wanted to speak to Jeanie, antagonizing her grandmother would simply make everything harder. His fingers scored furrows against his skull as he tried to force his brain to respond. It might as well have been full of shredded newspaper. The whole situation was completely out of control if he wasn’t careful he was going to lose her — or worse, become just one more in the line of people who’d taken advantage of her. Everything had been fine until Will had turned up. Why had Will’s appearance made such a difference?
His business partner had been the furthest thing from his mind until he had turned up at the shoot. In fact, Jeanie had been the only thing on his mind from the moment he had first walked into the café. Five minutes looking down a lens at her and all he wanted to do was to zoom in and get up close and personal. Kissing her had been one of his better moves, making love to her the best. Her body had been as soft and sweet as his fantasies had promised.
• • •
Xander wiped the steam from the mirror and ran his hand over his chin debating whether or not to shave. Jeanie said she liked the stubble but maybe she was just being polite. He’d have to ask her. Disgusted by his indecisiveness and the mish mash of emotions roiling through him he hardly recognized the face staring back at him from the mirror. All the classic symptoms — sweaty palms, pounding heart, erratic bubbles of happiness rising up and exploding in his chest and then dread at the thought he might have left it all too late.
After their night in the hotel, he simply couldn’t bear the fact that Jeanie wasn’t right by his side. The thought of losing her scared him witless. Norma was right — he hadn’t done a very good job of caring for her, but it was a situation he intended to remedy as soon as possible.