Falling for Mr Wrong Page 2

  Her gaze ran smack bang into the now dirtied shirt and impressive pecs. Couldn’t he do up his buttons? How could she remain focused with that on display? She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about your shirt. Can I give you money to have it cleaned?”

  “You can repay the favour by having dinner with me tonight.” The bone-melting curve of his full lips obliterated any strength left in her calf muscles.

  What? Her pulse spiked in surprise. “Dinner?” Her throat clenched in a cocktail of delight, fear and angst.

  “Yes, you know, food, conversation. I hear it’s quite popular.” The thumb from his clean hand circled through the side belt buckle loop of his shorts. His stance was informal, laid-back.

  So close to him, she gazed into the aquamarine of his eyes, the colour matched the blueness of the Dead Sea. A girl could drown in the depths of those eyes. She shrugged. “It might be a little difficult.”

  He took a step back. “I should’ve guessed you had a boyfriend.” He raised his brow.

  “A boyfriend?” She stifled the urge to laugh. “No, I’m single.” She shook her head slowly from side-to-side. Time to focus on nice, dependable guys…like the one standing in front of her.

  “So you can meet me?” The skin between his brows furrowed making Tilly wonder if a woman had ever said no to him. She inwardly rolled her eyes. How many sane women would say no to a date with a man who effortlessly wore his confidence and conviction?

  None.

  The sun must have fried her thinking cells.

  “I’m not staying at this hotel but…” She paused, unwilling to reveal where she was staying. How could she trust him? A stranger. “I’m meeting a friend later so I’m sorry, I’ll have to pass. But thank you.”

  To her own ears, it was a poor excuse. The ‘old’ fake friend routine. But she was not ready to trust this handsome specimen of maleness, even if he had saved her, was interested in her and invited her out for dinner.

  She was a fool. Cursing under her breath, debating whether she could change her mind. Why couldn’t she just say yes? What was the harm in having dinner? After a week of hiding out, surely she was yesterday’s news. Besides, she had been so careful, the media would never find her here.

  His left eyebrow arched. “How about a drink and then I’ll organise for the resort’s shuttle to return you to your hotel?”

  She bit her lip so not to correct him. Hostel not hotel. The offer was hard to pass up. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “You’ll be doing me a favour. My sister is busy so instead of my own company, I’ll have the pleasure of yours.”

  Holy smokes. A bolt of excitement mixed with a tinge of disbelief ripped through her. She had all but rejected him and he was still interested. The invitation was hers for the taking.

  Snatch it.

  Take it.

  “A drink sounds good.”

  His smile broadened. “I’ll meet you at six in the lobby.” He paused. “I’ve got to go, I’ve got a ton of work.”

  “Must be important to make you miss the mud baths,” her lips twitched in amusement.

  “Hmmm, yes.”

  “Your boss is a tyrant?”

  “Some of the time,” he winked at her. “Bye.”

  Her heart fluttered and she tried hard not to grin. “Bye.” She waved. “See you at six.”

  Her attention remained glued to his swagger as he made his way back to the hotel. Now out of sight, Tilly released a breath she had not realised she was holding.

  Her smile arced from ear to ear. Excitement quivered in her knees making its way up all the way up to her throat. Her life was about to turn round and get better. Finally. After being let down so many times, she was in charge, she was making decisions, she was making things right. Coming to Israel was the best decision, not only evading the media but finding a purpose to her life. And now she had a date with a real life knight in shining armour. He may not have a steed, armour or a sword but he did have perfect bone structure and a sexy smile that could have him gracing advertising billboards. Best of all he did not know who she was, nor had he recognised her. Perhaps he was not from London? Or perhaps he did not read the muck the press printed day after day.

  Wow, wow-wee!

  Spinning in a circle, her arms out reminiscent of Maria singing atop the mountain in the Sound of Music. She stopped and burst out laughing. She could not wait to tell her aunt about her date and klutzy twist and fall performance. It would have to wait until she returned to Jerusalem. It was one of those stories that would best be relayed in person rather than over the phone. Besides, her aunt would still be at work.

  Walking back to collect her things, reality descended with a slow, sucking realisation. Was she doing the right thing? Was she allowing her hormones to dictate rather than letting common sense prevail?

  Did it matter? It was a drink, half an hour to an hour tops and then she could return to the boredom of her hostel room. Fortunately, there were plenty of overseas guests but none from London. So far so good. So what if she was grinning from ear to ear idiotically because a handsome stranger had saved her, then asked her out?

  Her chest puffed with pride. She managed to outwit the London tabloids and regain her freedom. No longer would she be threatened or have her safety compromised. All she had to do was avoid the press and not stand out from the crowd. Be like everyone else.

  She was in Israel where life ambled by and no one knew or cared who she was. Why shouldn’t she enjoy the joy of a dream date?

  The press would not find her here. They were either in Australia or still in London. Leaving those clues on social media had been a stroke of genius and by not contacting her family directly, they could effectively say they did not know where she was. Brilliant!

  Scratching her now prickling skin, the mud had dried and started flaking off. Time to clean up. While walking to the outdoor showers, she recalled the luscious sheen of Nate’s skin as he emerged from the water. A spiral of lust uncoiled in her tummy making her shudder. She gasped, stopped walking and clutched a near-by hand rail. Her breasts grew heavy as her breathing picked up a notch. Lust? She smiled as the newly recognised emotion flooded her veins and she closed her eyes enjoying the sensation. Wow. Opening her eyes, she stole a look from side-to-side and was happy no one had noticed her odd behaviour.

  Never before had a man had that effect on her. Never. And soon, she would be having a drink with him. She could not wipe the smile stretching across her face, even if she wanted to. Boy oh boy!

  Nate stood in his room punching the air, still quite unable to believe he had found her so soon. It is not as though he could walk around in a suit in his quest searching for her. After all, he was not in London. So he acted like a tourist, even going for a swim and then the cry of a woman had brought out his inner hero. He had sprinted over, almost stumbling when he came face to face with London’s infamous Naughty Nanny. Tilly Walker.

  She did not come across as the man-eater the tabloids had painted her to be, rather more like the girl next door. An overused cliché but it did fit. Nate rubbed the back of his neck. Talk about luck! He owed his Jerusalem colleague big time.

  He grinned at the cleverness of his instinct, picking Israel as Tilly’s country of choice to hide out. Having discovered Tilly’s great aunt had spent a lifetime volunteering and taking devout, international visitors on spiritual guides around the holy sites in Jerusalem, there was no doubt in his mind that Tilly would come here. His colleague in Jerusalem had kept an eye on Tilly over the past few days till he had been able to fly in. She had spent the past week helping out her aunt, but yesterday had purchased a bus ticket to Ein Gedi.

  His sister and decoy, Bea, had complained non-stop about the rush in leaving London and he had dissed her grievances by checking into the most luxurious hotel in the area. Appeasing her with a luxury stay, he was able to look for Tilly on his own.

  What an opportunity. The Naughty Nanny would be his biggest scoop ever. He was bringing Se
bastian’s sanctimonious smug smile down. Muck may not stick to him but shots would. And the ammunition of choice was the truth. Sebastian Porter, MP, a candidate to be Prime Minister, had turned the media on to Tilly. Sebastian had managed to come out of the affair as having been wronged, victimised and mistreated. But he knew better – it was a lie. He and Sebastian had history.

  As a political bloggist for one of London’s biggest newspapers, he respected the story and did not do sensationalism. But this time it was personal. He needed insight that only she could provide and he was going to get it.

  Once he gained Tilly’s trust, he would dig deep. Very deep.

  Nate’s heartbeat quickened. He had waited years for revenge, to get back at Sebastian and it was so close he could taste it.

  A glimmer of excitement zipped through his spine.

  This was going to be one hell of an assignment.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Leaning against the cool marble column, Nate tapped his toe while waiting for Tilly in the hotel foyer. He still could not believe that he had found her and he had to restrain himself from jumping in the air every few seconds.

  Time to slip into his professional, patient persona. The one he used when interviewing MPs and other political candidates. Friendly but not too friendly. Just friendly enough to reel them and have them divulge everything he needed to know.

  Shaking his head, he could not quite believe his luck. The girl he had saved this afternoon was London’s infamous Naughty Nanny.

  Tilly Walker.

  She sauntered into the lobby. A wave of uncertainty crossed her face reminding him how vulnerable she was.

  Their gazes met and an engaging smile tugged at her lips.

  His heart skipped a beat as his gaze took in the soft yellow sundress, the light tan of her skin, her slim waist and long legs. Light brown hair curled in damp waves around her shoulders.

  Mentally cursing himself for noticing her shapely calves, he pushed away from the pillar and strode towards her. He was here on a job, not for a shag. “Hello,” he said.

  “Hi.” Her enchanting smile made his heart thump in double time as though he were a hero in a vintage romance movie. He dismissed the unexpected tightness in his chest as a normal reaction to an attractive woman, especially since he had not dated for months. He could barely remember the last time he’d had sex. When he returned to London, he would have to rectify that. Time to start dating again. But for now, his focus was on Tilly. And not her gentle curves.

  “I only have the dress I put on this morning, I hope it’s okay.” She fiddled with the strap on her bag and he caught the slight shake of her hand. She was nervous?

  “It’s fine, I think they only refuse patrons who haven’t yet washed off the mud.”

  A tiny laugh escaped from her lips. “You’re very good at making me feel comfortable.”

  “Let’s go.” He took her elbow, guiding her to the bar.

  Something about Tilly unnerved him. When was the last time he had noticed the scent from a woman’s shampoo? Fresh, like honeyed apples.

  Obviously, the recent long period of celibacy had melted his ability to think methodically and precisely.

  Having allowed himself to immerse his every waking moment in work, his social life slipped. After his disastrous engagement, hard steel-determined resolve now encapsulated his heart. Pushing away all thoughts of his ex, he shoved them into a box marked ‘never to be opened’.

  Through the large open doors into the dining area, he could see the hotel staff setting the final stages to the buffet. His brows furrowed. “There is no a la carte at this hotel.”

  She tugged at his arm and they stopped walking. “What’s wrong with buffets?”

  Facing her, he said. “Did I say that aloud?”

  She nodded, a quirky smile tugged at her lips as though she could not believe that he would say that. “Why don’t you like this carefree approach to eating?” Her hand pointed to the food. “It’s very Australian.”

  He did not know how to respond. He liked the finer things in life, especially when it was the exact opposite of what he had growing up.

  She laughed. “It’s like you have a neon sign above your forehead. You’re not relaxed. No wonder your sister wants you to have a break.” She clapped her hands together as though she had solved a complex maths equation.

  He ran his finger around his shirt collar and was stunned to discover the top buttons undone. Unbelievable. It was like his shirt was strangling him or perhaps the hotel air conditioner was not working. He was the one supposed to get under her skin not the other way round. A drink would help.

  His hand cupped her elbow as he steered her to the bar and forced himself not to run his fingers along her arm to see if her skin was smooth all the way. He swallowed hard and morphed back into his interviewing mode. It had never let him down and it was not going to now.

  He needed her to bring down Sebastian and right the wrongs from the past in order to make it right for Bea. Everything hinged on Tilly. The story depended on her. He swallowed a lump the size of Masada. For years, he had maintained a professional and impeccable manner. For the first time, he was going to convince a vulnerable woman to trust him and then he was going to betray her. It was a line he had never crossed…until now.

  Reminding himself of the end game he pinched the bridge of his nose. He would make sure she came out squeaky clean, as he was after Sebastian, not Tilly. He had to do it this way. No way would she trust him, a reporter, especially after what had happened to her in London. If it was not him, it would be someone else. She was hot stuff! Better him than another reporter who would not be so fair.

  “So Mattie, is your full name Mataline?”

  Something passed across her face, hesitation? Trepidation? And then it was gone as her lovely face lit up. “Actually, it’s Matilda, but, I’d really prefer Tilly.”

  “You said before—”

  “Call it a safety thing. I’m travelling on my own, I use Mattie instead of Tilly.”

  “Lovely to meet you, Tilly.” Shaking hands, Nate enjoyed the physical contact of her smaller, warm hand in his a little too much.

  A sinking, forborne feeling had his belly in knots and it definitely was not from Tilly’s engaging smile. Was she the metaphoric comet to knock his orderly life off its axis? Dismissing the notion as bollocks, he gestured her towards a low table and two comfortable looking chairs, facing each other. “Shall we?”

  Having received the confirmation that she was the Tilly Walker, there was an uncharacteristic need for his hindered diaphragm to start working again.

  Air forcibly pushed in, and then out. He attributed the slight light headiness to the lack of oxygen. Reassuring himself that once he started breathing properly, he would feel better.

  The hotel was abuzz with families and holidaymakers enjoying the resort’s luxurious offerings. Noise of various languages bounced off the walls mingling with laughter and he was relieved when they moved to a quieter area.

  Nate graciously held out the chair for Tilly. As he lowered himself into the opposite chair he asked, “A glass of wine?”

  The tension coursing through Tilly’s veins dissipated slightly. So far so good. Since they’d met in the lobby, she’d been half expecting him to recognise her as the Naughty Nanny, but he had not. Her heart sighed in relief. “Thanks, I’d love a glass of white.”

  She loosened her tightened fists, forcing herself to relax with measured, calm breaths as Nate ordered their drinks. If one person recognised who she was, her life would revert to a cesspool of misery. She had had enough of that to last a lifetime.

  Nate returned from the bar to join her and she gave him a warm smile as he sat down. Attempting pleasant conversation on her date of a lifetime, she asked, “Did you get much work done this afternoon?”

  “I did but I kept thinking how much more fun it would’ve been with you.” His voice was pure bliss, so deep and sexy and the thought of him wanting to spend time with her made her h
eart quicken. She could not remember the last time a guy had made her want to do something random, like lean over and press her lips to his. Although not a betting gal, she was sure his kisses would make her heart gallop.

  “I thought we’d try an Israeli wine. Not only is it highly recommended, but I like to drink local wines or beers.” He nodded politely to the waiter who placed two glasses of white wine and a mezze plate of olives on the small table. Lifting his glass, he toasted, “to new found friends.”

  Friends? It could not have only been her who could feel the tingling sensation when their fingers touched. The way his arms had circled her waist when he caught her so capably. Or his innate ability to make her feel comfortable.

  A lump of nerves wedged in her throat. After her protected upbringing and sheltered adulthood, she was not confident in making chit-chat conversation. As a carer and now a nanny, she spent more time with her adorable charges than adults.

  “To friends.” Returning the toast, she took a sip of the cool liquid before it slid languidly down her throat. “Are you familiar with Australia? Have you visited?”

  He leaned casually in the comfortable, leather seats. “Many years ago, I spent two months travelling around Asia and Australia. I stayed in Sydney for three weeks. Is that where you’re from?”

  A moment of panic flared in her gut before she took another sip of wine. “Actually, I’m from a town a few hours’ drive from Sydney.” Her eyes widened as she noticed her glass was already half empty. Drinking so quickly on an empty stomach. Stupid! “I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Do you mind if we get something to eat, besides olives?” I also do not want to end up making a fool of myself on this dream date.

  “Of course.” Nate gave her a devastating smile that would have stopped chaotic Israeli traffic, before signalling to the waiter.

  Closing her eyes, Tilly silently counted backwards from ten. Focussing on the picture perfect setting of where they were, helped untangled her knotted nerves.

  “So, Tilly, what brings you to Israel?”

  She decided to keep her answers as close to the truth. “My grandmother was very ill these past couple of years and I’ve been her carer.” Grief became stuck in her throat and she swallowed it away. “After she died and…” She could not tell him about her loser ex, she thought with a sharp pang of reality.