Alien Wife. Anne Mather

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СКАЧАТЬ you?’ His expression was wry. ‘I’m not sure I like that.’

      ‘Please! Stop baiting me.’

      Driven beyond reason, her eyes were desperate, and his features hardened. ‘What would you have me do with you, then?’

      She shook her head, staring down helplessly at her knees, and with a tremor of apprehension she felt his hand slide over and grip her nape under the silky curtain of her hair.

      ‘You know, I should have had more sense!’ he muttered, and she looped back her hair behind one ear to look at him.

      ‘Wh-why?’

      He regarded her for a long disturbing minute. Then, before she could offer any resistance, he leant forward and kissed the down-soft curve of her cheek. His mouth was warmly compelling, and for an instant she had the craziest urge to tilt back her head so that his lips would encounter hers. It was not a calculated reaction, and its urgency left her strangely weak.

      ‘Oh, Abby,’ he said, resting his head back against the soft leather. ‘Someone should have warned me about you!’

      ‘Wh-what about me?’

      He chewed impatiently at the inner skin of his lower lip. ‘How old did you say you were? Seventeen? Eighteen?’

      ‘I’m twenty,’ she asserted hotly. ‘At least, I shall be next month.’

      ‘Twenty!’ He shook his head, moving it from side to side against the headrest. ‘And did no one ever teach you the facts of life?’

      ‘Of course!’ She tried to shrug his hand away from her nape, but he didn’t let her go. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

      He flexed his back muscles. ‘I don’t believe you do.’ He straightened, looking at her through narrowed lids. ‘You know what I think?’ He raised his eyebrows, but she made no reply, so he went on: ‘I think you should try your claws on someone else—someone less likely to take advantage of you.’

      ‘You’re not—taking advantage of me …’

      Luke’s lips twisted. ‘And you don’t think I would?’

      ‘Would you?’

      He flung himself back in his seat, his hands seeking the case of cheroots he always kept in the car. When he had one between his teeth, he nodded savagely. ‘You’re a beautiful girl, Abby. If no one’s ever told you that, let me be the first to reassure you. And I am only human! You’ve been throwing yourself at my head ever since you laid eyes on me, and while I’m perfectly willing to oblige, something tells me that that’s not what you want …’

      ‘And if it was?’

      She spoke breathily, and he took the unlighted cheroot out of his mouth to stare at her disbelievingly. ‘Abby, if it’s a film star you want to be, it’s Scott you should be talking to.’

      ‘It’s not.’

      Unknowingly provocative, her tongue appeared to wet her upper lip, and with a muffled oath he dropped the cheroot on the floor, his hands sliding possessively over her shoulders, compelling her towards him. His mouth on hers moved back and forward insistently, warm and probing, and disruptively sensual. Did he know she had never been kissed before? she fretted anxiously. Did he realise all the knowledge she possessed came from books like his own?

      ‘Stop fighting me, Abby,’ he spoke against the corner of her mouth, and she moved her head confusedly.

      ‘I’m not fighting you,’ she protested, the words dying on a gulp when his hand slid beneath her sweater to grip her bare midriff.

      ‘Come on,’ he breathed, his tongue tracing the curve of her lips. ‘Open your mouth …’

      ‘Open—oh!’

      Her puzzled objection was stifled by the pressure of his mouth, forcing her lips apart to admit the searching penetration of his. No amount of reading, however adult, could have prepared her for the sensations he was arousing inside her, sensations that left her weak and submissive, neither seeking nor repelling the demands he was making on her. She didn’t resist when his hand probed further beneath her sweater, cupping one rounded breast and stroking the nipple with his thumb, but Luke could feel the thrusting urgency of his own body and he could no longer ignore it. For long, lingering seconds, his mouth continued to possess hers, and then he pushed her away from him, shoving open his door violently and getting out, heedless of the falling rain.

       CHAPTER FOUR.

      The draught of cold air was sobering and Abby caught an incredulous breath, pressing her palms to her burning cheeks, scarcely daring to believe what had occurred. She fumbled her sweater down over the waistband of her jeans and in doing so her wrist accidentally brushed her breast, still tender from the pressure of his fingers. She licked lips gone suddenly dry, and twisted the driving mirror round so that she could examine her face. Her pupils were wide and dilated, her cheeks splashed with hectic colour, her mouth bruised and bare of any make-up. It had happened, it had really happened! Somehow—she didn’t quite know how she had done it—she had aroused Luke Jordan’s interest!

      She took a deep breath. He had kissed her. And not in any casual way. He had held her and kissed her until her head swam with the memory of it. She swallowed hard. It hadn’t been so bad, after all. And she hadn’t frozen up on him as she had been afraid she might do. She had let him do what he wanted, and not tried to stop him.

      Then she remembered. Luke was outside now, in the pouring rain. She adjusted the mirror and leaned across his seat and said softly: ‘Won’t you come in, Luke? You’re getting soaked to the skin!’

      Luke looked down at her broodingly, his face wet, his hair plastered to his head and neck. Then, without comment, he got back inside the vehicle, reaching for his cheroots again and lighting one, still without speaking. His sweater steamed, and the odour of damp wool mingled with the scent of his tobacco. When he stretched out a hand to start the engine, however, she put restraining fingers on his sleeve.

      ‘I think you ought to take off this—this wet jumper,’ she murmured awkwardly.

      ‘Do you?’

      His voice was cold and cynical as before, and Abby looked at him reluctantly. ‘Yes. Yes, I do.’

      ‘You care about me?’ His lips twisted mockingly.

      ‘It’s not a question of caring,’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s common sense. You’re wet through.’

      ‘Perhaps I don’t care,’ he remarked.

      Abby made an exasperated sound. ‘Don’t say things like that! It’s stupid to risk pneumonia for the sake of a little forethought.’

      Luke stared at her grimly for a few moments, and then jabbing his cheroot into the ashtray, he lifted his arms and hauled the sweater over his head. He wore nothing beneath it, and the tanned brown flesh rippled with goose-bumps. With his chest bare, he looked younger, more vulnerable, and Abby was not unaware of the sexual attraction he possessed.

      ‘Here,’ СКАЧАТЬ