Striker. Michelle Betham

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Striker - Michelle  Betham


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soon found out he’d had no intention of spending with her.

      The day his relationship with a local model hit the headlines was the day Amber had left the North East to go and study for her degree in Manchester. She’d needed to get away. She’d needed that distance in order to cope, because coping wasn’t something she’d dealt with all that successfully at the time. How could she possibly have stayed in the North East with Jim a major player at Red Star, flaunting his beautiful new girlfriend all over the place? This stunning new couple that everybody was talking about. He’d used her as nothing but a plaything, something with which to amuse himself until he’d found the girl he’d really wanted. And it had shattered Amber. Because she’d been convinced, absolutely convinced, that he’d meant every word he’d said to her. How stupid had she been?

      After finishing university she’d moved back to the North East, finally believing she was over Jim Allen. Had it hurt to see him again? Had it hurt to go home and find him there, at her parents’ house? Smiling at her as though he hadn’t been the one to take her precious virginity, lie to her, and then walk away the second he’d got bored? Yeah. It had hurt like hell. So why, then, did she just erase all those bad memories and replace them only with the beautiful ones she remembered? The ones where he’d hold her in his arms and touch her in a way she could only ever have dreamt about before? Why did she forget the lies and the secrets and the hurt he’d put her through? Why did she do that? Because Jim Allen had got under her skin, embedded himself there like some kind of permanent tattoo that she couldn’t remove, no matter how much she wanted to. And to get home and find out that his relationship had ended, that his girlfriend had left him for a musician she’d met on a modelling shoot, that was the news Amber had wanted to hear for so long. The news that Jim Allen was free again. Everything else – the past, the lies, all the hurt and the pain, none of that had mattered. All that mattered was that he was back in her life. It hadn’t bothered her that he’d still been determined to keep everything a secret, to hide their relationship away like something seedy and sordid. She wasn’t that naive sixteen-year-old who’d had her head turned by a handsome face and empty promises, she wasn’t that person anymore, so why hadn’t she questioned the secrecy second time around? Why hadn’t she done that? Because she’d been blinded by an obsession that had taken her over, that’s why. And once again she’d believed everything he’d told her. She’d believed that, this time, there was a future for them, that they did have something worth fighting for. And it had been worth it just to have him back where she’d always wanted him – back in her life, back in her bed, back making love to her in a way that made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Jim Allen was addictive. Jim Allen was dangerous. Jim Allen had the ability to hurt her all over again, so when it came out that he was involved with a famous soap actress, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Amber. She should have known it was going to happen all along. But when he tossed her aside a second time it was still as much of a shock as it had been first time around. Yet still she couldn’t tell a soul. She couldn’t tell anyone why her heart was breaking all over again, why she refused invitations from friends to go out and have fun in the pubs and clubs of Newcastle, like any normal young girl in their twenties. She couldn’t tell them that she didn’t want to meet some random boy in a bar. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want some meaningless relationship – yet, in reality, wasn’t that exactly what she’d had with Jim?

      That was when she’d thrown herself into her work, deciding to carve out a career in sports reporting rather than having fun and finding love. She’d already found love, and look where that had got her. She couldn’t go through that again. It was then that Amber had made her decision never to become involved with footballers ever again. Despite what she’d told Ronnie, despite what she’d told anyone else, that decision had never really been about the Ryan Fishers of this world. She could handle them – the arrogant, cocksure bastards who thought everything revolved around them. They were just little boys who earned far too much money and lived their lives in some kind of fantasy bubble. They weren’t a problem; she could deal with them. No, everything was Jim Allen’s fault. Everything. He was the reason she was a cold-hearted ice-queen. He was the reason she’d never had a decent relationship with any man for all these years. He was the reason she was shaken up and confused. He was the reason.

      He’d seen out his professional playing days at Newcastle Red Star, and following his retirement he’d finally left the North East with his soap-star girlfriend to move down south and start his managerial career, giving Amber the distance she’d needed all over again. And he’d promised her, he’d told her that was it. If she didn’t want him to come back up north then he wouldn’t. He’d leave her in peace, let her move on with her life and, despite everything, that’s what she’d done. She’d moved on. But now he was back. Back in the North East, back in her life. Back to break her heart all over again?

      ‘You were never in love with me, Jim. Never.’

      He shook his head, his eyes following the movement of his fingers as they traced the curve of her breasts, and Amber was unable to stop a small gasp of pleasure from escaping, even though she’d tried to do so by biting down on her lip.

      ‘You have no idea, Amber…’ He gave that low laugh again, his eyes back on hers. ‘You used to bite down on your lip when we made love, do you remember?’ His arm snaked around her waist, his hand sliding down to rest in the small of her back, his mouth moving closer to hers as he spoke. ‘I can still see it now. Your eyes would always be open because you liked to look at me, didn’t you? You liked to look at me when I pushed inside you. But you’d always bite down on that bottom lip of yours. Always.’

      ‘Please don’t do this,’ Amber whispered, afraid of what she might do now, afraid of what might happen because she hadn’t even thought about the consequences Jim Allen’s arrival back on Tyneside might have. She’d known she was going to have to face him again, but she hadn’t even thought about what could – what would – happen when she did. Thirty-seven years old and, even though she’d tried so hard to believe that she wasn’t, she was still as naive as that sixteen-year-old girl who’d believed every promise this man had broken. ‘Please.’

      ‘I didn’t just come back for this job, Amber.’

      ‘No.’ She shook her head again, silent tears now streaming down her cheeks, and as he leaned forward and brushed his lips over those tears, gently kissing them away, she felt her heart break into a million tiny pieces. ‘Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.’

      ‘I’m a free agent, Amber. No ties, nothing holding me back. And I don’t believe for one second that this ridiculous relationship you have with Ryan Fisher is anything but a front…’

      ‘You don’t know anything,’ Amber said quietly, quickly brushing away fresh tears with the back of her hand. ‘Ryan… he’s not what everybody thinks he is. He’s changed.’

      ‘Are you really still that naive, Amber? Ryan Fisher doesn’t care about you, he never will. You’re the older woman, the novelty he hasn’t yet had a chance to try out. Believe me, honey, when he’s finished with you he’ll just toss you aside and move onto the next new toy.’

      ‘Like you did, you mean?’

      Jim looked at her, right into her pale blue eyes that were still shining with tears yet, at the same time, were steely and cold. ‘I came back for you, Amber.’

      ‘No, you didn’t, Jim. Jesus, will you stop playing me again? This isn’t fair, you’re not being fair…’

      ‘I saw you with him, and it hurt. Okay? He’s a boy, Amber. A boy. And he’ll never love you, not like I can. Never.’

      ‘Who says I want love? After what you did to me why would I want to leave myself open to that kind of hurt again? Huh? Why would I want to do that? I’m having fun, Jim. For all those years I threw myself into my work as a way of forgetting you and what you did to me; I became obsessed with my career, with being the best at what I did, and in turn that made me into this cold, almost bitter person who trusted no one and let nobody past the barriers I had to put up. Because of what you did. So now I’m


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