her against him, ignoring her request, lowering his mouth down onto hers in a kiss that lasted just seconds but it was enough, because too much time away from her, too long without her had meant he needed her like a drug he couldn’t do without and just the tiniest of touches could satisfy him. He was addicted, and he needed that fix, no matter how brief.
‘That is never going to happen again,’ India whispered, angry at herself for letting it happen in the first place. It was a sign of the old weakness returning and she’d promised herself that would never happen. Not again. Not after everything she’d been through. ‘So, like I said before, I’d like you to go. Now.’
‘India…’
She walked away from him, pushing a hand through her hair, refusing to look at him. This conversation was over. The situation was done. Finished. ‘Now, Michael. I’d like you to go now.’
What else was he supposed to do? Stand there and force her to be with him? Considering their history that would be the worst thing he could ever do, but knowing that she didn’t feel the same way that he did, it hurt like hell. Coming here, knowing he was going to be working with her, so close, every day, he’d thought – he’d stupidly assumed – that she’d see things his way. Assumed she’d see that what they’d had was worth fighting for, when she so obviously didn’t.
‘I’m sorry, India…’
She swung round to look at him, folding her arms again, the look in her eyes one of determination. Michael Walsh would not take her down, not again, not this time. She could do this, she could fight this. She could live her life without hoping he might one day come back into it, because she needed to feel that to give her any chance of really moving forward.
‘We stay purely professional, Michael. We’re here to work together, that’s all. You got that?’
He got it. Loud and clear. But it still didn’t stop him from hoping that, one day, things might change. Because Michael Walsh never gave up on anything without one hell of a fight.
CHAPTER 6
He opened the drawer and reached for the file, sliding out the photographs that had been placed between the paperwork, studying each one carefully. She’d changed. She was hardly recognisable to him now and that angered him slightly because it showed disrespect. And he wasn’t used to that.
Lighting up a cigar he stood up, throwing the photographs down onto the table, walking over to the window, pulling up the blinds to let in the early morning Californian sunshine, squinting slightly as it bounced off the surface of his huge oval swimming pool. Maybe he’d grab a few minutes outside in the sun, get used to his new surroundings. But he didn’t want to hang around too long. He had work to do. He had things to sort out. He had scores to settle. And he just hoped she liked surprises, because he couldn’t wait for this one to unfold.
***
The heat was searing as Kenny sat down opposite Layla, taking a chance to grab a quick coffee before he went back out on set. Filming of this movie was almost at an end for him now and he’d enjoyed it, it had been a fun movie to work on, but he was missing India already. He’d been out with her a couple of days ago, a last night out together before she’d left for Vegas, and they’d had a great time. It had been one of those nights when he’d felt as though the old times were back, the nights when they’d just hung out at their favourite bars with their biker friends with nothing there to get in the way. But stuff was always in the way now, no matter how hard they tried to pretend it wasn’t.
‘Penny for them,’ Kenny said.
Layla smiled as she looked at him. ‘That’s a very English turn of phrase.’
‘Well, that’s probably because I’ve spent nearly half my life hanging out with an English girl. You kinda pick things up.’
She watched him as he looked down into his coffee. ‘You miss her, don’t you?’
Kenny looked at Layla, the harsh, almost fake appearance she’d adopted in the past having given way to a softer, so much prettier side of her. She really was a very beautiful young woman. ‘I’ll always miss her. She can be right beside me, Layla, and I’d still miss her.’
‘That’s not really missing