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[ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ] sweet-a melting coffee cream laced with rum. 'I congratulate the chef,' Randal drawled, turning towards her for the first time since they were eating their melon. She met his eyes nervously. They were cool and expressionless. He looked suddenly remote; a handsome unapproachable stranger. She felt a bitter sense of loss, although it was a ridiculous way to feel when she had never liked him anyway. Mrs Knight wheeled away the hostess trolley to do the washing up while Laura moved around the sitting-room filling coffee cups. Everyone took a second cup and she retreated to the kitchen to make some more coffee. Tom followed her out there and leaned on the wall talking to her lightly. The fragrance of coffee filled the room. She took the cream out of the refrigerator and poured some into the cream jug, smiling at Tom as she did so. 'Put this on the tray for me,' she asked, handing it to him. He obeyed and she turned to switch off the coffee. Turning away towards him, she collided with him. They laughed, their bodies touching, their arms around each other as he supported her so that she would not fall. Laura's green eyes shone as she looked up at him. 'Oh, Tom,' she murmured huskily, 'did you mean what you said this morning? Do I really make you lose your head?' His face sobered rapidly. He looked anxious and disturbed. 'I shouldn't have said any such thing,' he told her. 'Forget it.' 'How can I?' The cry was charged with pain. 'I don't understand, Tom. Sometimes I think .. .' She broke off, suddenly seeing the sharp-etched outline of a listening shape on the wall of the hall. Randal was out there, silently eavesdropping. As if he sensed that she had seen him he pushed open the door and came into the room. Tom's arms dropped away from her. He was flushed and unhappy. 'I'll take the tray in, he said, picking it up and moving out of the room. Mrs Knight had gone. She was alone with Randal. She gave him a resentful look. He had interrupted her brief moments with Tom, and she hated him for it. She had prepared some thin slices of orange and lemon to serve with the coffee. She got them out and busily arranged them on a glass plate. Randal watched her, leaning easily on the back of a chair, his dark face brooding. 'Do I get the impression that the path of true love does not run smoothly?' he drawled suddenly. His suggestion brought a prick of pain and she turned on him at once. 'Why must you sneer?' He shrugged. 'I find it a surprising match-a girl of your spirit, with the eyes of a wildcat and the temper of a tigress, and a young man with such an austere, controlled face. I can only imagine he finds your ardent attentions difficult to resist.' The grey eyes insolently surveyed her, lingering on the white curve of her half- revealed breasts. 'You're a tempting little creature to any man.' She felt her face bum and that betraying pulse began to beat at her wrists and the base of her long, white throat. 'You have no right to say such things to me, she said lamely, and hated him for laughing. 'I thought you were more honest,' he murmured. 'You must curb this tendency to lapse into vulgar cliché. When we first met it amused me to hear you snap back with the bite of a fishwife. It was such an odd contrast to your appearance. ' She could not help looking at him enquiringly, her vanity aroused by the last remark, and suddenly something sparked in the cool grey eyes. 'You're a born coquette,' he said softly. She lowered her gilt-tipped lashes and looked at him through them, her green eyes bright as glass. 'What a horrid thing to say!' He moved with that startling rapidity, watching her with the intent gaze of a cat at a mousehole, and she felt her pulses stir into galloping life. Randal Mercier was a dangerous man, shrewd, practised in the art of flirtation, disguising his own thoughts and feelings but quick to read those of other people. His hands took her by the shoulders and shook her. 'Behave yourself!' he said, but his tone was uneven. 'Do you even know what you're doing half the time? If you look at me like that, I warn you, I'll kiss you until your head spins.' Her head was spinning now, she thought, half excited, half afraid. She was flirting with danger, but she could not resist another glance at him through her long fair lashes. 'You asked for this: he said between his teeth as he bent towards her. Without even knowing it her body curved towards him, her mouth eager. His lips were cruel; demanding ruthlessly her passionate response. If only Tom would kiss me like this, she thought, drowsily, her whole body on fire as she wound her arms around his neck. Suddenly she was free and he was standing a foot away from her, his face cold. 'You were not kissing me,' he said contemptuously. 'I won't be a stand-in for another man. Never try to use me like that again.' [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ] |