I had never gotten the hang of British accents, but Bob sound like he was from London. A local would be able to pinpoint exactly where, but all I knew was that he didn’t sound like Oliver which meant he probably wasn’t from West London.

“Hi Bob,” Maisie said. “This is my sister, Michelle.”

I shook Bob’s hand and asked where we were going.

“Your hotel is about a forty-five-minute drive from here,” Bob replied. “The traffic’s an effin’ disaster at this time of day. Let me take your bags.”

“That’s okay, we can carry our own bags,” I said.

“Don’t be daft. I’m the driver. Besides, wouldn’t be right of me to let two beautiful ladies like you carry your own bags.”

“Thanks, Bob,” Maisie said cheerfully, handing over her bag. I reluctantly followed suit and let Bob lead the way outside, where he took us straight to a waiting limo.

“You’re kidding me,” Maisie exclaimed when she saw it. “We have a limo.”

“You know, at this point, I’m not even surprised.” Everything about this trip was odd.

Maisie jumped in the limo as soon as the door opened. A second later I heard her scream.

This entire time I’d known something was up. The trip seemed too good to be true. If Maisie had been attacked again I’d never be able to forgive myself.

I looked inside the limo and saw Maisie with her arms wrapped around a man on the back seat. He saw me and my eyes locked onto his. I’d recognize those dark green eyes anywhere. He pushed Maisie off him and smiled at me.

“I have a feeling you’re surprised now,” Oliver said, leaning back and crossing his legs. “It’s been a long time, Michelle. So, are you pleased to see me?”

The limo suddenly felt small and claustrophobic, but I stepped inside and let Bob close the door behind me.

Maisie sat down opposite Oliver and I took a seat near her. I should have sat next to him; at least that way I wouldn’t have to look at him. I would have been able to smell him though. He always smelled irresistible, regardless of whether he was going out for the evening or had just finished a game of rugby.

“It’s Olly,” Maisie said, stating the obvious. “Can you believe it? This trip just gets better and better.”

“I’m glad one of you thinks so,” Oliver said. “Your sister doesn’t look so pleased to see me.”

“Ignore her,” Maisie said, clearly already doing just that. “She’s just tired from the trip.”

I wasn’t at all tired. I’d never felt more awake. What was he doing here? It had been eight years. Eight painful, frustrating years without so much as a word from him. Now he was just a few feet away, smiling at me as if we were old friends.

I stared at Oliver in his dark gray suit, with a white shirt, and pink tie. At least this way I couldn’t see his legs. I’d always been unable to resist Oliver’s thighs. They were built like tree trunks and composed entirely of muscle. Most rugby players had strong legs, but Oliver’s still stood out among the crowd.

“Would you like a drink, Michelle?” Oliver asked.

Was that it? ‘Would you like a drink?’ How about ‘sorry for acting like a fucking idiot all those years ago, Michelle?’

“Just a water,” I replied.

Oliver leaned forward with a bottle of water from the cooler in the door, and I took it gingerly by the lid to avoid making contact with Oliver’s hand. Even after all these years, I didn’t trust myself around him. He hadn’t changed much. There was more stubble around his face and his dark brown hair was more disheveled, but he was still the same old Oliver, for better and for worse. Mainly for better.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I’m going to assume the limo and the first class flight tickets are something to do with you?”

“Yep,” Oliver replied. “Traveling first class helps with the jet lag and I didn’t want you to take a week getting acclimatized.”

“Thought as much.”

“That’s Michelle’s way of saying ‘thank you,’” Maisie added.

I looked away as Oliver smiled at me. I’d rather he think I was just rude, instead of seeing the longing I still had for him in my eyes. Even Maisie had picked up on the way I used to look at him, and she’d only been six at the time. I dreaded to think how obvious it would be now.

“Do you work for England Rugby?” I asked.

“No,” Oliver replied, “but the whole initiative with getting women playing rugby is run in conjunction with my club. I’m kind of an ambassador for the program I suppose.”

“That’s awesome,” Maisie exclaimed. “That means we’re going to see a lot of you this summer, then?”

Oliver looked over at me, still smiling. “Oh yes, I’ll be around. In fact, you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

I met his gaze this time, but inside I was trembling. Not with excitement like Maisie, but with fear for what the summer might hold. Oliver was bad news, but I was drawn to him like I’d never been drawn to another man. No one before or after him had come close.

I’d tried to move on, I really had. Maisie liked to comment on the lack of men in my life, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t been on dates or had boyfriends. I even had a relatively active sex life. Not a good sex life, but an active one.

I’d never been able to find a man that made me feel the way Oliver did. Some of them had made me laugh, and a few had been charming, but Oliver made me truly feel something. Something deep inside. Something between my legs. God, so many feelings between my legs.

But there was another side to Oliver. Maisie saw him as the cool older brother that she never got to see, but I saw him as the man who had thrown us out of his life when things went wrong. He’d accused Maisie and me of “distracting him from his game” and had made it quite clear he wanted us to stay out of his life. That was eight years ago.

I’d happily obliged, and hadn’t spoken to him since, but Maisie had been too young to remember what had happened. Now he had purposely brought us back into his life, and this time he seemed only too happy to have us around. What had changed?

One thing was for certain, if he kept smiling at me like that, it was going to be damn difficult to keep hating him. He already had Maisie’s trust and friendship, but he’d have to do more than buy us first class plane tickets to regain mine. Not after what he had done.

Within minutes of seeing Michelle again, I knew it would take a lot more than a nice suit and an expensive plane ride to win her round. I’d spent hours choosing exactly what I should wear when I met her. She remembered me as the guy who wore only two types of outfit: rugby kit or jeans and a t-shirt.

I needed to show Michelle I had changed and matured since we’d last spoken, so a suit seemed like a good idea. Many women had told me that I looked damn near irresistible with my thighs bursting through the trouser legs of my suit, and their subsequent actions usually confirmed that statement. The suit didn’t seem to have the same effect on Michelle though. It wouldn’t be easy to regain her trust.

I’d kept my involvement in the trip a surprise—mainly for Maisie’s benefit—and I’d been hoping for a slightly more positive reaction. Maisie had warned me that Michelle was hard to please these days, but even so, I hadn’t expected her to look so stern. She looked at me with an intense hatred that I usually reserved for criminals or those who tried to cheat on the rugby pitch.

Michelle blamed herself for what happened to Maisie. I reminded her of that night, and she hated me for it. I should tell her it was my fault; that Maisie only had those burns because of me. But I couldn’t. If I told her that then I’d have to tell her everything else, and that couldn’t happen.

Michelle had been slightly chubbier back in 2007, but she’d lost all that weight now. She looked gorgeous back then, and she still did. She obviously kept in shape. The tight yoga pants she’d worn for the flight revealed toned legs, and I could see firm arms underneath the cotton jumper.