Read Online Opposing Forces by Juliet Anderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Juliet Anderson
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got plans?” she whispered, seductively running her hand down his bare chest to the waistband of his jeans.
“Oh, Maisie, I…,” he started to explain.
“Is everything all right, Frankie?” a woman’s voice called from inside. “Are you planning on coming back to bed?”
Maisie’s jaw dropped open. Bloody hell, this was not a scenario she had envisaged. All the colour drain out of her face as she recoiled from him quickly; she was so mortified, she wanted the ground to swallow her up.
His face was a mix of embarrassment and shame. “I’m so sorry…”
She did not let him finish. “There’s no need to apologise. I appear to have misread the signals.” She turned and hurried down the stairs, hoping she could make it back to her car before the tears started.
“Maisie, wait.” He went after her and caught her arm.
She shook him free. “You should not keep the woman already in your bed waiting,” she responded with coldness.
“But it’s not her I want, Maisie, it’s you. It always has been. You know I’m in love with you,” he pleaded.
“So you’re willing to tip her out of bed and put me in her place? I hope you’d at least have the decency to change the sheets.” She stalked on down the stairs.
“Maisie, please…”
“Forget it, Frankie. I’m glad I’ve discovered you’re nothing but a womanising dickhead before I actually slept with you.” She strode out to her car, head held high. Inside she was a complete mess. Her decision had come too late, Frankie had got tired of waiting for her.
Maisie drove back to her apartment in tears, more from mortification than anything else. She never dreamt for a moment that he would have another woman in his bed. She felt so cheap and dirty.
She hurried up the stairs to her apartment and locked the door. She needed to wash, to try and rid herself of the shame. A lovely deep bath with Moroccan rose oil was just perfect for calming and picking up her spirits, along with loads of soothing candles. If that didn’t work, then she’d down a bottle of wine. She felt such a fool, thinking Frankie was waiting patiently at home for her to say yes. He was an attractive, red blooded male; if it was offered to him on a plate, of course he would take it. Ironic really that the one time she should throw caution to the wind and decide to sleep with someone she was very fond of, that he should already be otherwise occupied.
How was she going to face him again? There was a big party at one of the Raiders team members’ house at the weekend; she certainly could not go now. Maybe it was time to take that trip to Paris she had been delaying. Paris in summer was not really appealing but it was much more welcome than running into Frankie so soon.
Yes, Paris was the sensible option. A working weekend, sort of. She hauled herself out of the bath and dried off. Firing up her laptop, she sent a few messages to the hotels she needed to see and booked her accommodation; if she caught the fast train around midday, she would be in Paris within a few hours.
The buzzer for the building front door caught her attention. She padded out in her pyjama shorts and camisole to the hall and looked at the intercom camera. Her stomach flipped. It was Frankie. She had no intention of letting him in so returned to her bedroom, turning the music up to drown out the sound of the buzzer. Her mobile was also ringing. She ignored it too.
A while later the front door buzzer and her phone fell silent. She thought she’d better check her mobile for any important messages. There were five phone messages and twenty texts from Frankie.
She listened to the messages . “Maisie, I really need to speak with you. Please call me.”
“Maisie, I know you’re pissed with me but please answer my call.”
“I’m coming over, we need to talk.”
“Answer the
“Oh, Maisie, I…,” he started to explain.
“Is everything all right, Frankie?” a woman’s voice called from inside. “Are you planning on coming back to bed?”
Maisie’s jaw dropped open. Bloody hell, this was not a scenario she had envisaged. All the colour drain out of her face as she recoiled from him quickly; she was so mortified, she wanted the ground to swallow her up.
His face was a mix of embarrassment and shame. “I’m so sorry…”
She did not let him finish. “There’s no need to apologise. I appear to have misread the signals.” She turned and hurried down the stairs, hoping she could make it back to her car before the tears started.
“Maisie, wait.” He went after her and caught her arm.
She shook him free. “You should not keep the woman already in your bed waiting,” she responded with coldness.
“But it’s not her I want, Maisie, it’s you. It always has been. You know I’m in love with you,” he pleaded.
“So you’re willing to tip her out of bed and put me in her place? I hope you’d at least have the decency to change the sheets.” She stalked on down the stairs.
“Maisie, please…”
“Forget it, Frankie. I’m glad I’ve discovered you’re nothing but a womanising dickhead before I actually slept with you.” She strode out to her car, head held high. Inside she was a complete mess. Her decision had come too late, Frankie had got tired of waiting for her.
Maisie drove back to her apartment in tears, more from mortification than anything else. She never dreamt for a moment that he would have another woman in his bed. She felt so cheap and dirty.
She hurried up the stairs to her apartment and locked the door. She needed to wash, to try and rid herself of the shame. A lovely deep bath with Moroccan rose oil was just perfect for calming and picking up her spirits, along with loads of soothing candles. If that didn’t work, then she’d down a bottle of wine. She felt such a fool, thinking Frankie was waiting patiently at home for her to say yes. He was an attractive, red blooded male; if it was offered to him on a plate, of course he would take it. Ironic really that the one time she should throw caution to the wind and decide to sleep with someone she was very fond of, that he should already be otherwise occupied.
How was she going to face him again? There was a big party at one of the Raiders team members’ house at the weekend; she certainly could not go now. Maybe it was time to take that trip to Paris she had been delaying. Paris in summer was not really appealing but it was much more welcome than running into Frankie so soon.
Yes, Paris was the sensible option. A working weekend, sort of. She hauled herself out of the bath and dried off. Firing up her laptop, she sent a few messages to the hotels she needed to see and booked her accommodation; if she caught the fast train around midday, she would be in Paris within a few hours.
The buzzer for the building front door caught her attention. She padded out in her pyjama shorts and camisole to the hall and looked at the intercom camera. Her stomach flipped. It was Frankie. She had no intention of letting him in so returned to her bedroom, turning the music up to drown out the sound of the buzzer. Her mobile was also ringing. She ignored it too.
A while later the front door buzzer and her phone fell silent. She thought she’d better check her mobile for any important messages. There were five phone messages and twenty texts from Frankie.
She listened to the messages . “Maisie, I really need to speak with you. Please call me.”
“Maisie, I know you’re pissed with me but please answer my call.”
“I’m coming over, we need to talk.”
“Answer the
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