Falling for Mr. Mysterious. Barbara Hannay

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СКАЧАТЬ when it comes to food.’

      ‘Sprung,’ he admitted with a rueful smile.

      Emily smiled, too, and he thought he could stare at her smile for ever …

      ‘I’ve tried to keep quiet,’ she said. ‘Have you had a productive day?’

      ‘Not very.’

      For a moment she looked worried, but then her eyes widened with unmistakable excitement. ‘I bought one of your novels this afternoon. It’s called Thorn in the Flesh and I’ve started reading it. It’s fabulous, Jude. Totally gripping. I’m hooked, and it’s exactly what I needed to stop me from dwelling … on … everything.’

      ‘I’m glad it hit the spot.’

      To his surprise, she folded her arms and leant a shapely hip against a kitchen cupboard with the air of someone settling in for a discussion. ‘Morgan, the heroine, is really tough,’ she said. ‘Mentally tough. And I like the way she guards her heart.’ Emily rolled her eyes. ‘I should be more like her.’

      Jude shrugged. ‘Perhaps you’re too hard on yourself. Fictional characters are always larger than life.’

      ‘That’s true, I guess.’

      ‘I could never live up to my hero’s standards.’

      She nodded. ‘Raff’s a very cool customer, isn’t he?’

      ‘Of course.’

      Of course … Jude thought. His heroes had always been very cool and very tough, ever since he’d first created them for the stories he told to his little sister, Charlotte. At the age of eight he’d been trying to drown out the nightly ordeal of their parents’ rowdy arguments.

      These days, with new enemies, Jude wished it was as easy to escape from reality.

      Emily had turned to the stove and was adjusting the flame beneath the fragrantly simmering pot. ‘Have you heard from Alex?’ she asked casually.

      ‘Not today.’

      ‘Do you miss him?’ She gave the pot a stir.

      Finishing his iced water, Jude shrugged. ‘Not especially. He’ll only be away for three weeks or so.’

      Then he saw the way Emily was watching him, her blue eyes soft and round with obvious sympathy, and he realised with a slam of dismay that she’d decided he was Alex’s lover.

      He should deny it now. Tell her the truth. Hell, just looking at her in her simple jeans and Alex’s striped apron, Jude was fighting off desire so strong that it startled him. He was surprised that Emily could stand there in the same room and not be aware of his screaming lust.

      Thing was, it should have been dead easy to set her straight. How hard was it to make a simple statement? By the way, Emily, I’m not gay.

      All things being equal, he would have told her. Immediately. No problem.

      Except … there were other factors at play here. Emily was enjoying a kind of immunity in this apartment, but if she knew the truth about him, she was likely to pick up on the attraction he felt. For all kinds of reasons, that was a bad idea.

      Her trust in men had taken a severe hammering and she’d come here seeking sanctuary. Feeling safe was very important to her right now, and Jude didn’t want to upset that. This apartment offered her time-out. From men. Time to pick up the pieces after her recent relationship disaster. The last thing she needed was an awareness of a new guy with the hots for her.

      Just as importantly, Jude knew he was totally crazy to entertain randy thoughts when he’d come to the city to find out what the hell was wrong with him. He needed a medical diagnosis, not a romantic entanglement with the first gorgeous girl who walked through the door.

      All things considered, it was much easier and safer to simply let Emily assume that he was gay. After all, she wouldn’t be here for long, and he—

      Hell. He had his life on hold until he knew what the future had in store for him.

      When Emily woke the next morning she felt marginally happier. She’d slept quite well during the night, no doubt because she’d gone to bed feeling thoroughly relaxed after a pleasant evening at home with Jude.

      They’d enjoyed a leisurely meal, which Jude had complimented lavishly, and then they’d sunk into comfy armchairs and read novels in the pleasantly heated lounge room while CDs played softly in the background. It had been rather cosy and undemanding, the kind of evening she’d often spent with Alex.

      Now, having dressed in jeans and a sweater because she didn’t want another comment about angels and nightgowns, she wandered into the kitchen at almost nine o’clock. It was the longest sleep she’d had in ages. No wonder she felt better.

      To her surprise, there were no signs that Jude was up. The kettle was cold, which meant he’d either made his cuppa long ago, or he hadn’t bothered.

      She made coffee and blueberry pancakes and assembled a breakfast tray, as she had on the previous day, then knocked softly on Jude’s door. After all, bringing him breakfast was the least she could do when he was hard at work and generously sharing his living space with her.

      He didn’t answer to her knock, which was another surprise. She wondered if he was in some kind of artistic frenzy, typing madly as the clever words flowed straight from his imagination through his fingertips and onto the keyboard. He might be very angry if she interrupted.

      Then again … he’d welcomed the breakfast she’d prepared yesterday. She knocked again, less cautiously this time.

      There was a muffled growl from inside.

      ‘Jude, would you like coffee and pancakes?’

      At first he didn’t answer, but then the door opened slowly and Jude leant a bulky shoulder against the door frame. He was wearing black boxer shorts and a holey grey T-shirt that hugged his muscly arms and chest. His eyes were squinted as if the muted light in the hallway was too bright.

      His dark hair was tousled into rough spikes, his jaw covered in a thin layer of dark stubble, but it was the glassy strain in his eyes that told Emily he was in pain.

      ‘I won’t bother with breakfast this morning,’ he said dully. Then, added as an afterthought, ‘Thanks, those pancakes look great, but I’m not hungry.’

      ‘Are you unwell?’

      ‘Headache.’

      ‘Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can get you? Do you need aspirin? Camomile tea?’

      A ghost of a smile flitted over his face and he started to shake his head, then grimaced, as if the movement was too painful. ‘I have medication. Don’t worry, I’m used to this. I’ll hit the sack for an hour or so and then I should be fine.’

      Clearly, Jude didn’t want to be bothered by any more questions, so Emily tiptoed away, leaving him to rest, but she felt disturbed and worried. She’d experienced guys with hangovers, but Jude hadn’t been drinking, and he’d said he was used to these headaches. How awful СКАЧАТЬ