Mills & Boon Modern February 2014 Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

Чтение книги онлайн.

      CHAPTER NINE

      ‘COME IN AND make yourself at home, Bryn, and I’ll pour us both a glass of wine,’ Gabriel encouraged huskily as she stood hesitantly in the doorway to the sitting room of his apartment.

      He had felt an inner sense of relief earlier, when Bryn had finally capitulated to the idea of the two of them meeting up again when she finished work at ten; he might have deliberately given her the impression he was both confident and unyielding in his demand for them to talk this evening, but inwardly he hadn’t been at all sure, until that moment, that Bryn would agree.

      Gabriel had been waiting outside in his car for her when she and several of her co-workers left the coffee shop a little after ten o’clock, the two of them not speaking after he climbed out of the car and opened the passenger door for her to get in, or during the short drive to his apartment.

      She had lost weight, he realised as Bryn finally entered the sitting room, the black denims she wore not quite as figure-hugging as they had been a week ago, her collarbone visible at the open neck of her black shirt, those grey eyes appearing huge in the paleness of her face. Evidence that she was finding fighting the attraction between them as difficult as he was? Gabriel certainly hoped so, because this past week of not seeing her since the two of them had made love together had been sheer torture.

      His expression softened as Bryn sank down wearily into the comfort of one of the brown leather armchairs. ‘Busy evening?’ he prompted as he poured two glasses of pinot grigio.

      ‘Very.’ Bryn accepted one of the glasses before taking a welcome sip. ‘You have a nice apartment,’ she added with an appreciative glance at the obviously masculine decor and original artwork on the walls.

      ‘It isn’t mine particularly.’ He shrugged. ‘We all use it whenever we’re in London— Don’t worry, Bryn, Michael and Raphael aren’t in London at the moment,’ he added ruefully as she instantly looked alarmed. ‘Michael is in Paris, Raphael in New York.’

      Her frown eased slightly. ‘They really are wonderful names.’

      He nodded. ‘The family estate in Berkshire is called Archangel’s Rest—and, I assure you, I’ve heard all the jokes.’

      She smiled slightly but it quickly faded. ‘Gabriel, I only came back with you tonight because I agree that we need to dispense with this situation once and for all, and then just move on— What are you doing?’ she gasped as Gabriel put his glass down on the coffee table before kneeling down at her feet and beginning to unfasten the laces on her shoes.

      He looked up to quirk a teasing brow. ‘Removing your shoes, obviously.’

      ‘Why?’ She tried, and failed, to pull her foot from his grasp as he slipped one shoe off before turning his attention to the other.

      Gabriel sat back on his heels after removing the second shoe. ‘I’m guessing your feet ache from all that standing?’

      ‘Yes.’

      He nodded. ‘Then a foot massage should be very welcome about now.’

      ‘A foot— Gabriel, stop that.’ She tried to pull away as he took one of her bare feet into both his hands and began to gently knead the aching flesh. ‘Gabriel!’ Her protest was less convincing this time, and she gave a low sigh of pleasure as his fingers continued to massage the tension from her tired muscles.

      ‘Good?’ he prompted.

      ‘Oh, yes.’ Her head fell back against the chair, lashes fanning over her cheeks as her lids closed and Gabriel continued to knead and massage her foot.

      She had tiny elegant feet, the nails painted a bright—and defiant—red, Gabriel noted indulgently as he turned his attention to her other foot and continued to massage her aching muscles.

      Bryn knew she should stop Gabriel doing what he was doing, that his kneeling at her feet was intimate enough, without the sensuous touch of his long fingers massaging her to add to that dangerous intimacy.

      She should stop him.

      But she couldn’t.