The Accidental Call Girl by Costa Portia Da

Author:Costa, Portia Da [Costa, Portia Da]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Adult
ISBN: 9780352346933
Publisher: Black Lace
Published: 2013-02-14T07:00:00+00:00

11

An Invitation

‘You mean you’ve already checked up on him and you didn’t tell me?’

Home again, Lizzie confronted Brent. He looked even more white-faced than usual and, judging by his bleary manner and his red eyes, he’d been drinking as well as hitting Google on her behalf. Behind his back, Shelley shrugged, looking worried.

‘Somebody had to,’ snapped Brent. ‘You seem to be sailing into all this without a care in the world. The first thing any escort, or any half-way sensible person, would do in this situation is check the guy out as much as they could. But you seem to be taking him completely on trust.’

But I do trust him!

Aware that after only three days of knowing John, that was a stupid and irrational statement, it was nevertheless what she felt, even after her own online discoveries. On the other hand, though, she could understand Brent’s animosity, given his own traumatic history of guilt and self-blame over a road accident. He wasn’t the one to cut John any slack on that score.

I need to make allowances. In a few days John will be gone, and I’ll be little more than a fleeting memory to him. But I’ll still be here with Brent and Shelley, who’ve always cared about me. They matter.

Both her friends had been there for her in tough times. And Brent especially, when she’d dropped out of uni, fallen out with her parents, and generally wondered what the hell she was doing with her life. So she owed him a bit of extra consideration now. She’d loved him once too, or thought she had. Maybe she still did, as the brother she never had who’d looked out for her when her own high-achieving sisters had been as confounded as her parents over her career choices . . . or lack of them.

‘Yeah, it was a bit daft not to check him out, I fully admit that. But I thought it’d only be the one time . . . maybe two at the most. I didn’t think it’d come to anything more than that, so I didn’t bother.’

And it might not come to anything more than that either.

The thought made her despondent. Hell, much more than that. Her heart was on a plummeting elevator at the moment. She and John had parted slightly awkwardly when the hotel porter had delivered her dress and jacket, all dried and pressed from their valet service. She’d got the sense he’d wanted to say more, and she’d definitely wanted to say more, but somehow, their last fuck had been so intense . . . so . . . so intimate that it had almost been too much.

She wanted more. He didn’t want more. Or, he didn’t want to want more. It’d been as if a million confessions, protestations, pleas and admissions had been bubbling beneath the surface, and neither of them had been able to say anything.

John had kissed her in a vaguely melancholy way and then bade her farewell. He’d made no new appointment, nor any mention of one.

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