The Secrets She Must Tell - Lucy King Page 0,5

those months ago had been a long shot, but she hadn’t known where else to try.

She’d spent two days trying to track him down with nothing to go on except his first name and a photo. Unsurprisingly, the internet had yielded nothing. The records held by the hotel in which they’d spent the night were data protected, and her enquiries here had met with blank stares and stony silence.

Which meant she was all out of options and back at square one, she thought, anxiety churning around in her gut as the hopelessness of her situation hit her all over again. She had no job, little money and home was, for the moment, a tiny, damp bedsit in a crime-ridden part of London. Because of what had happened, she was unemployable. Her prospects were nil. Her confidence had hit rock bottom and her judgement was unreliable. How she was going to manage going forward she had no idea.

Digging deep to stave off the relentless despair, Georgie turned to leave, only to freeze when she heard a brusque, ‘Stop.’

She swung round, her heart banging against her ribs, to see the man with the muscles and the unpromising attitude, he of the stony silence and blank stare, bearing down on her.

‘Don’t worry, I’m going,’ she said, lifting her hands and backing off as he came to a halt in front of her.

‘Wait.’

She blinked. ‘What?’

‘The man you’re looking for,’ he said curtly. ‘He’s upstairs.’

At the unexpected information, Georgie’s stomach gave a great lurch and her pulse leapt. ‘Really?’ she said, glancing up and seeing nothing but dark windows and an absence of movement.

‘Follow me.’

He turned smartly on his heel and, for a moment, she dithered. Was it true? Could she really have found him at last? On the other hand, how likely was it that Finn was indeed up there? Why would he be? What if Muscles was part of some dastardly trafficking scheme or something and taking her to a place from which she wouldn’t return?

No.

Ridiculous. That was what she was being. Utterly ridiculous. She was in no danger. She needed to banish the wreck she was these days, beat back the paranoia and channel the fearless Georgie of the October fifteen months ago, who hadn’t hesitated to go for what she wanted and watch out anyone who got in her way. The old her was in there somewhere. She had to be.

Gritting her teeth, Georgie determinedly shook off the frightening darkness that was gathering at the edges of her mind in an all too familiar way and the memory of the confusing, terrifying thoughts that had consumed her for much of the last six months, and set off in the doorman’s wake. She stepped through the door and into the club, and was immediately hit by a wall of noise, a burst of heat, and a deluge of memories that had her momentarily stopping in her tracks with their vividness.

There was the bar where she’d walked up to Finn and asked if she could join him, she thought, recalling the desire that had swept through her when she’d looked at him and realised he was as breathtakingly gorgeous as she’d hoped. Where he’d given her that devastatingly wicked smile and she’d known in that instant that they’d be leaving together. Where they’d sat close and flirted, their gazes locked, their bodies communicating on an entirely different level, their off-the-charts chemistry sizzling and soaring until they hadn’t been able to take any more.

When she’d breathed into his ear that she wanted to leave—with him—he’d taken her hand and led her out of the club with flatteringly indecent speed. He’d pulled her into a dark doorway and kissed her until her knees went weak and her stomach dissolved into a puddle of lust. He’d then taken her back to his hotel room where they’d spent hours burning up the sheets of his bed before parting in the morning with no promises and no regrets.

It had been everything she’d been hoping for.

It had been perfect.

And then, a while later, not so perfect.

With a sigh, Georgie let go of the memories, and resumed her progress across the room, aware of the curious glances she was attracting, which were hardly surprising, since her appearance gave a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘dressing down’. She hadn’t dressed up for this meeting. She hadn’t dressed up for anything in a long time. Would her zest for life, her energy, her libido, ever come back? Would she ever wholly