No Repeats Read online

  Dedication and Copyright

  To my boys, you are my world.

  Copyright © 2020 Emily Hudson

  All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. Any reference to businesses, trade names, locations and organisations are used in a way that is purely fictional.

  All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, in any form or by electric or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval without the prior permission in writing from the author, with the exception of brief quotations in book reviews.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication and Copyright

  Synopsis

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty - Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Synopsis

  Their attraction was instantaneous. Lucy Crawford and internationally celebrated barrister, Marcus Davenport, meet at their respective best friend's wedding. Marcus' playboy tendencies are renown, whereas Lucy, nursing a broken heart, is prepared not to fall; being forewarned is forearmed. Has Marcus met his match with the straight-talking, vivacious Lucy or will he hold true to his no repeats reputation?

  Chapter One

  ‘Stay.’ No matter how hard my aching feet pounded the treadmill, his plea still haunted me. It was the last thing I expected him to say as he pulled me back into his embrace. That moment his muscular arms enveloped me, I knew I was doomed; I wanted to stay, I did.

  Our attraction had been instantaneous, our passion undeniable, the result explosive. I smile briefly as I recollect the incredible memory that was last night, but that was all it was ever meant to be. Trying to shake away my thoughts, I cranked up the pace. I couldn’t, no wouldn’t be the next casualty to his or any man’s charms. I was going in with my eyes wide open, no repeats; for either of us.

  Marcus Davenport had well and truly lived up to his playboy image, waltzing me off to an obviously well frequented hotel, but whilst in the moment, there wasn’t the time to dwell on that. It had been months since I’d shared intimacy with anyone, let alone the Adonis that continued to cloud my mind.

  My best friend Alicia (Licia to me) had warned me of the reputation of her husband’s best man, but that sharp intake of breath I was forced to take when I realised he only had eyes for me, coupled with his attentive manner, superb company and indisputable sex appeal, meant there was no way I’d pass up the opportunity; I mean, I’d have been mad, wouldn’t I?

  Cautious isn’t a word usually in my vocabulary but since finding my maggot of a boyfriend worming around in bed with a long legged red head, I wasn’t about to trust the intentions or sentiments of any man and I wasn’t naïve enough to think I was anything more than a playful distraction. For me, Marcus was a welcome break from my self-imposed man ban that, until last night, had lasted four gruelling months. Marcus had sated my need for now, as I settled back into his arms, it was all too easy to want more. It was time to leave before I got burnt, again.

  It didn’t take long before Marcus’ strong arm became heavy as he drifted deeper into sleep. As much as it pained me, I took one last look at the olive tanned figure, laying sprawled out on the bed I’d just left. As if aware of my gaze he rolled over exposing his washboard abs as he did. Taking a deep breath, I froze on the spot, hoping he wouldn’t wake, at least, not ‘til I’d made my escape.

  Licia had married her soul mate yesterday, a beautiful ceremony, set in idyllic surroundings. It was hard to believe outside of the park gates, London was functioning as normal, people scurrying here and there, irate taxi drivers gesticulating at cyclists, delivery drivers blocking bus lanes and people passing each other by without an acknowledgement. Yesterday, the ceremony and everything that followed had been the epitome of Ethan and Licia’s love for each other. No two people, deserved their day to be so perfect. On their special day, most brides would be forgiven for being completely self-absorbed, but not my best friend. No! Licia was the first to demand the details, having watched Marcus and I with interest. Before her and Ethan had slipped away I’d promised I’d give her the lowdown in the morning but as much as her husband Ethan and I had a developed a good friendship too, I don’t think even he’d appreciate me giving his wife the sordid details at quarter to five, the morning after their wedding night. So with adrenalin still coursing through my veins, there was only one place for me to go, my second home, the gym. Unfortunately, as I continue to punish myself, nothing eradicated the sound of his velvety voice as I remembered his lust filled whisperings. Hell! I thought as I ramped up the incline and speed – it’s like ripping off a band-aid, the sooner you do it the quicker you’ll heal. Somehow, I knew if I’d stayed in those arms, it would be one wound that would only get deeper.

  Truth be told of late, as the months passed since well, lets call it, ‘my enlightenment,’ I’d become more and more cynical, jaded, even bitter. I isolated myself from most people including my family and, at times, my best friend. I became the go to person at work, always saying ‘Yes, I’ll do that…No problem…Yep! Count me in!’ Throwing myself into work seemed my key to survival. Convincing myself I was valued there but at the end of the day, I knew better. In short, I went from a happy go lucky, straight talking, live life to the full, kind of girl, thinking I had found, ‘My Mr Right,’ dare I say it, ‘My One!’ to find out that I had been one of many for, ‘Mr Right now I’ve got an itch that need scratching with as many guileless women as I can.’ Needless to say, the first thing I did was get myself checked out, who knows what that cheating bastard could have passed on. The worry waiting for the, thankfully, all-clear results, proved to be, to date, my most successful way to lose weight. The weight loss continued as I set to, disposing of any article of clothing or tacky (now meaningless) trinket he’d either purchased or left at my place. I spent just one evening alone, tearing up or deleting every photo that was in existence. I had wanted nothing to remind me of our year together which also included cancelling the ‘effing’ cable sports channel package I’d signed up to for his benefit. Bonus, I saved a little money, I got a scumbag out of my life before I’d perhaps, done something stupid, like… who knows? Marry him or more likely catch antibiotic resistant gonorrhoea. Hurrah, every cloud… and all that!

  So, that’s me, my hang-up. The reason that this, dare I say it, not unattractive blonde, has just made her walk of shame, slipping out of the hotel doors, back into obscurity. As obscure as one can be, traipsing around London in the early hours of the morning, wearing a full length blue bridesmaids dress. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to walk out without saying a word or leaving a note. I let my feelings about one man, affect the way I treated Marcus and deep down, I know he didn’t deserve that. Who am I kidding, he probably wanted to avoid the uncomfortable, ‘
well that was nice/must do this again/I’ll call you,’ chat over breakfast as much as I did. Best this way! I concluded slowing my pace back down.

  Guilt is a funny thing, always lurking in the background, ready to pounce, damn my Catholic upbringing! Despite all my actions, what I really felt guilty about, was the way I reacted to Licia yesterday. I had one task, an errand to deliver her wedding gift to her husband to be, Ethan. Only for me to return back more chief bitch than bridesmaid and why? There I was, standing in the impressive hallway of Ethan’s grandfather’s house, confronted by the sight of three bare chested males, all capable of giving a blind nun palpitations. To say I was smitten the moment I’d laid eyes on Marcus, is not far from the truth. Standing at what I guess to be around 6ft 5 inches, it’s not an exaggeration to say he towered a good foot over my petite form. As if his massive, muscular form wasn’t enough, then there were his eyes, so piercing that as a mere mortal, I feared he could see into my very soul. His eyes dazzled as blue as the deepest ocean, a stark contrast to his still damp, jet black hair. He was a feast for the senses then and now I’ve tasted the goods, let’s just say, my opinion hasn’t changed. I should have admitted that to Licia when she asked why I was somewhat flustered on my return but no, I nearly bit her head off spouting some rhetoric about all men lying and cheating. Thankfully, being the best friend she is, she let it be. Despite that, I have no doubt, that the seating arrangements on the top table were no accident. Licia knows me better than anyone, even my parents.

  Marcus proved to be a hard man to shift from my brain as I showered quickly and changed into something a little more appropriate. Sadly, my apathy towards men in general got no better as I walked backed onto the gym floor of Cadence. Propping themselves up against the weights were a couple of unusual oglers, giving creepy leering looks to anyone female. What I would give for that racking to give way, I thought, as they turned their attention to me. Unfortunately, with the power of telekinesis still eluding me, I could only fall back on my resting bitch face, which seemed to do the trick.

  ‘Hey, why so glum Luce?’ Came the chirpy voice of Tristan, my everything fitness guru. I smiled in acknowledgement, casting my eyes back momentarily to ‘Butch and Butcher’ who now appeared to be having an alpha male macho standoff on the bars. ‘Hey guys, off the equipment ‘til you’ve been inducted, Rob will be out soon.’ Rob was Tristan’s partner and owner of Cadence Fitness. ‘Don’t worry sweetness, Rob will put them through their paces, they probably won’t be back.’ Ex-military, Rob trains elite athletes and his intolerance of certain types of behaviour in his gym is renown. I smiled, I was in no doubt these two would be running for the hills.

  ‘What are you going to poison me with today?’ Tristan’s shake bar was the latest addition to the gym. ‘Go easy on me, it was my best friend’s wedding yesterday.’ Leading me off to his still glitteringly clean bar area, he perused his selection of ingredients as I took a seat. After showing off his knife skills and the customary whirl of machinery with a flourish he proudly presented my drink. Tristan had never yet turned my stomach with his concoctions but this could be a first.

  ‘Kiwi and Kale.’ He said with a smile. Wrinkling my nose up and theatrically holding it, I sipped the green gloop. He watched intently desperately trying to gauge my opinion. Surprisingly it hit the spot, I nodded in approval. ‘So, what brings you here so early, you didn’t just crawl out of someone’s bed, did you?’ I felt the intensity of the truth burning into my cheeks. ‘You did, didn’t you? Oh, Luce, this is priceless. Tell me it wasn’t the best man, could you get any more clichéd?’ As my eyes widened, he shrieked with joy. ‘I love it.’ he exclaimed clapping like a demented seal, finding obvious enjoyment in my soap opera lifestyle. ‘So, who is he? Any photos?’ We had taken a selfie whilst in each other’s arms, watching the fireworks. ‘Swit swoo! So, you’ll be seeing him again?’ Head in my hands, I looked up.

  ‘That would be a no, nada, not in a million years!’ Handing me the phone back he gave me the head tilt of sympathy.

  ‘Oh, honey, was he that bad?’ I shook my head. Raising his bottom lip, he wiggled his little finger.

  ‘Good God no, he was phenomenal.’ I laughed.

  ‘Then why pray tell would you not want to see that handsome face again? How did you leave it? What did you say?’

  Biting my lip, shamefaced, ‘I left before he woke.’ I admitted. Tristan raised both hands to his cheeks, a shocked expression worthy of reality television.

  ‘No note, no number?’ I shook my head. ‘Ouch Luce, for phenomenal, that’s harsh! What would you do for mediocre?’

  I mulled over Tristan’s words, ok perhaps my actions had been a little inconsiderate. Then there was the fact that he was best friends with my best friend’s husband, it’s not like we wouldn’t see each other again…Oh hell! What have I done?

  Chapter Two

  Turning over, the scent of her still lingered, but as I reached out, I felt nothing; an unusual sense of loss came over me. Sitting up I surveyed the evidence; my clothes, still strewn across the floor, the sheets crumpled beneath me, but she was gone, definitely gone. This was unnatural territory for me, usually I’d be the one to leave the note. Getting up I stomped around the suite naked, my frustration growing as I realised, not only had she gone, but she’d not left her number or anything. Perplexed I fixed myself a drink, the one woman I wanted to wake up with, hold close and repeat everything all over again, was gone.

  Swallowing the bitter dregs of my coffee I made my way to the shower; everywhere I looked, I had visions of her beautiful face. It was against this very wall I claimed every inch of her body as mine. Running my hands threw my hair, I tried to shake the images away, it must be all this soppy wedding stuff, either that or I’m getting sentimental in my old age. Let’s face it, she’ll be back, they always are.

  Egotistically speaking I know I’m a catch, I have always had a way with the ladies, they seem to lap up the conceited arrogance that oozes from me at the best of times. Not surprising really, coming from money, having a high profile career, not to mention my looks. All the women I’ve involved myself with want more, she won’t be any different. With that surprisingly comforting thought, I dried and dressed, readying myself for my tuxedo dressed walk of shame.

  Ashamed to admit, it was not my first but to make matters worse, just as I made my way through reception, a herd of Japanese tourists were entering eyeing me up as some kind of gigolo by the titters and sniggers. I bowed courteously, making the giggles worse, as I waited for them to filter through. The moment the doors cleared I hopped into a waiting taxi. ‘Belgravia please.’

  It didn’t take long to be back in my sanctuary. With travelling so much I treasure the little time I spend in my town house. Originally purchased because it was close to my Chambers; a moot point as I travel more often than not, from job to job. Ethan’s wedding had given me the best excuse to take time out from the world of mergers and acquisitions. Having worked miracles, the kind akin to being a UN Peacekeeper, on a particularly ruthless hostile takeover; I was drained. For the time being, all my calls were being forwarded to my clerk to delegate within the Chambers until further notice. It was time to shut off.

  Slipping into something a little more comfortable, I could indulge in my favourite pastime, cooking. But, first things first, time to construct a shopping list. Like everything, I approached it methodically. Ethan and my baby sister vulgarly call my approach anal. It’s true my compulsion for visualising the supermarket layout and listing each ingredient in order of its position in each aisle was verging on an obsessive compulsive disorder, but it wasn’t as if I couldn’t handle it when the store moved things around. Irritated yes, compelled to write a strongly worded letter to the store manager, often, but I prided myself that I hadn’t taken that step, yet. Yes, I could afford to have someone do this for me, hell I could join the masses and order it online. The point is, I didn’t want to; I’d grown up with “The Help” as my mother would refer to the army o
f paid staff that waited on us and as such I was a very spoilt and precocious child. It wasn’t until Kitty, one of countless nannies my parents employed, walked into my life and showed me the person behind the uniform; and because of that I’m proud to say: I am an expert cook, cleaner and polisher, you name it; I even sew. I dread to think how I’d have turned out, without her direct influence. Kitty was my lifeline to humanity, she gave the love and emotion that was devoid from my sterile family setup. A mother and father too concerned about building their legal empire to bother to read a story to their children when they got home from work. Children were considered necessary to continue what my great great grandfather had started but it was made clear in no uncertain terms that we were an inconvenience. My father I’m sure would have preferred that I’d arrived pre-programmed, already assimilated. If you thought the idea that children should be seen and not heard died out with the Victorians you’d be very much mistaken. I thought I’d have made him proud when I gained a first at university, but no, that had been expected. When I thought, I’d surpassed their every expectation of me and received my ‘Call to the Bar’, my parents had an urgent case to deal with. I listened to all the platitudes from my father’s acquaintances, ‘Your father wouldn’t miss this for the world, he’s very proud of you.’ I knew better, there was only one person’s face that I sought out that day, Kitty’s, she never failed to be there for me. Growing up she was the lioness, my fiercest defender, ready to protect and put me back in my place at a moment’s notice. Why Kitty was playing on my mind was a mystery, maybe it was the unfamiliar feelings I’d experience this morning, perhaps I was in search of the validation that I was doing ok, something I’m sure we all need occasionally. With that on my mind there was only one thing I could plan to eat tonight, Kitty’s comforting Beef Cobbler, perfect choice, what I don’t eat I can package up and share with her when I see her tomorrow. So lets see, I’ll need: Onions…Carrots…