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From Rags

From Rags(11)
Author: Suzanne Wright

“Oh for Christ’s sake.”

She shook her head, panicking now. “Connor, honey, listen: I’m sorry if it seems like I’ve been pushing you, it’s just that I love you -”

“Leave, Anita.”

“- but if marriage really isn’t what you want it doesn’t mean we have to split up, we can still be together.” And then I can wear you down with time.

“Anita…” It was a warning.

Desperation flooded her veins. She was not only going to lose him, but her pride. Everyone expected them to get married after the rumours she’d spread; her parents, the media, her fans. She had even been in touch with the personal assistant of fashion designer Donna Karan about a dress and chosen her Maid of Honour who had excitedly accepted the position. God how embarrassing was it going to be when everyone heard about this! She didn’t even have time to buy; Connor would still go to that stupid charity event in a week’s time and he wouldn’t go alone. Once the paparazzi saw him with another woman the whole world would know about their separation. Why couldn’t he see how good they looked beside each other?

Seeing her magazine on the table next to her bag, she quickly snatched it and opened it on a particular page then slapped him in the chest with it. “Look.”

Humouring her, Connor glanced down to see a photograph of the two of them together outside a restaurant. “And the significance of this is…?”

“We look perfect together! Everybody says so!”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” With that he flung the magazine at her feet and gave her his back as he began to walk away.

Then he froze, his body having caught up with his brain. Slowly he turned and looked down at the magazine on the floor, convinced that he couldn’t have seen what he thought he saw. He was aware that Anita was still rambling on but her words didn’t register. Tentatively he picked up the magazine and flipped it over to look again at the front cover that only seconds ago he’d had a fleeting glimpse of.

And there she was. Looking back at him with an intensity that reached out and plucked at his soul. Those eyes, they had always gotten to him. They had a way of entrancing you, imploring you, making you a willing captive.

Jaxx.

His chest tightened and his lungs burnt. Suddenly the magazine felt like an extension of his hand. He honestly didn’t know how he was going to put it down. He found himself rubbing those lips of hers with his thumb, remembering the one time he’d kissed her. How her mouth had tasted. How he had wanted to do so much more to her but had stopped himself because of her age. She might not have looked or behaved or thought anything like a fourteen year old girl, but that was what she’d been, and he’d been sixteen.

A barrage of random memories hit him. Her burying her face in his chest to hide how hard she was laughing when their drunken foster father slipped on the ice chasing after the dog that had snatched his last beer. Her trying to convince him not to hotwire another car and then purposely triggering the alarm when he ‘wouldn’t see reason’. Him teaching her self-defence moves after that gang of boys cornered her in the girls’ toilets at school – the same gang of boys he had later beat the crap out of. Her yelling at him to stop feeling sorry for himself or she’d squish his balls with her foot. Him sitting playing with that head of chocolate-brown ringlets while listening to her defend Leah for the umpteenth time instead of seeing the lying, attention-seeking bitch for what she was. He remembered exactly how her hair had felt between his fingers.

Christ, how had he subconsciously managed to train his brain not to let him think about her? Now that the dam had been broken, the memories and images of her pelted him. It was almost like his mind was punishing him for trying to box her away into a corner.

He suddenly became aware that Anita was tugging on his arm and barking his name. Screeching something about he’d regret this, and was the face of Allure about to be his next victim? He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t move his gaze from those brown, feral eyes. Nor did he want to. “Out,” he insisted in a calm yet lethal voice that no one had ever ignored. Except for Jaxx. She had snorted at his temper and flipped him off.

Making a hissing sound, Anita stomped toward the door. As she reached it she turned to scream an insult at him, thinking he would at least be watching her leave – hopefully having some regret shining from his eyes. But he was still staring at that photo of Jaxxon Carter; a model who in just the space of three months had become widely known and desired. And now she was her intended replacement. Not gonna happen.

Once Connor was finally alone, the slamming of the door echoing in his ears, he grabbed himself another beer and parked himself on the couch, all the while still holding that magazine while Jaxx’s eyes held his. It was only then that it occurred to him to wonder what the bloody hell she was doing in a magazine. No, not in a magazine, on the front cover. If there was one thing he would never in a million years have anticipated, it was Jaxx becoming a model. Oh she had the figure for it; she was even more stunning now than she’d been as a teenager. The early bloomer had obviously never stopped blooming. Christ, if his dick was twitching just from her picture, he had no damn doubt that it would harden to the point of pain if he saw her again in real life.

When, not ‘if’, a part of him insisted. Yeah, he had to see her again; had to see this woman who had seen good in him when he hadn’t seen it in himself, who had somehow burrowed her way into his soul without her even realising it.

But what if she thought his contacting her meant that he wanted some kind of relationship? He’d admitted to her before he left that he’d always cared about her so he wouldn’t blame her for thinking that he now wanted to act on that. He’d have to make sure she understood that it wouldn’t happen, he still had no intention of doing the whole kids and marriage thing and his career came before everything.

Who would have thought that his stealing a Ferrari one night would have led him on the path to be where he was now? Instead of prison, he had ended up in the Ferrari Young Driver Development Programme. It had been the first time that someone had ever offered him a chance to be more than what he was, and he had gripped that opportunity and latched on tight. Not once had his grip ever loosened, and he had all the trophies to prove it.

He reckoned that Jaxx would love to hear about the championships he had taken part in, would want every little detail. Would throw herself into his arms the minute she saw him. He wouldn’t mind finding out about her new life. Just a little get-together to catch up. Maybe they could then meet up now and again as mates. Yeah. He liked that idea.

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