Dangerous Discovery. Laura Martin
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Dangerous Discovery - Laura Martin страница 6

Название: Dangerous Discovery

Автор: Laura Martin

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

Серия:

isbn:

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ Besides, he was right—she was worn out with carrying Joseph for so long. ‘There’s...a tie at the back and a clip,’ Estelle murmured, acutely aware of his touch as his hands roamed over the fasteners at her back. ‘But the cot—is it OK?’ she asked, glancing worriedly over to the corner of the room, automatically calculating the extortionate cost of a new one should it prove to be beyond repair. ‘Did...did they do anything to it?’

      ‘Don’t panic. It’s fine. Now, are you ready to take the weight? I’m going to untie this thing.’

      Estelle placed Joseph, still thankfully fast asleep and totally unaware of the awful atmosphere that surrounded him, in the cot. She stared down at the huddled form as she placed a blanket over him and felt the sting of tears filling her eyes. What a world, she thought miserably. Such a start for you, my poor, poor baby. Motherless at three months, brought up by an aunt who hasn’t a clue, hasn’t the means or the intelligence to make things better for you...

      She was crying and she really had promised herself she wouldn’t. Annoyed by her lack of strength, she spun away, kicking some books and clothes that had been ripped up and thrown on to the floor out of her way in a gesture that revealed all of her anger, frustration and helplessness.

      ‘Don’t, Estelle.’ Hunter was beside her in an instant, his voice more gentle than she ever would have believed. ‘Don’t upset yourself. Everything will be all right.’

      Estelle covered her face with her hands and squeezed her eyes tight shut, fighting against the tears. ‘No, it won’t,’ she murmured unsteadily. ‘Just look at this place!’ She opened her eyes and stared anywhere except at Hunter’s face, her gaze finally coming to rest on the corner where her canvases and easel had at one time been neatly stacked. She rubbed her wet face with the back of her hand and sniffed hard. ‘Just look at what they’ve done.’ She walked over and picked up a brutally torn painting, one that she had been working on for weeks, one that she had hoped to be proud of before too long. ‘Oh, God! Why is everything so hard?’ she murmured quietly, turning blindly away. ‘Why can’t I cope?’

      And then Hunter’s arms were there, around her shoulders, drawing her towards him, pressing her close against the fine woollen cloth of his suit. He held her tightly, stroking the tumbling locks of bronze-coloured hair, saying nothing, just holding her so that Estelle, her body stiff with misery at first, gradually found herself relaxing against the rugged, solid strength of him, tentatively resting her head against his broad chest, sobbing over and over, allowing, for the first time in weeks, the release of all the grief and tiredness and tension that had built up since she had first heard of Connie’s death, since she had first shouldered the responsibility of bringing Joseph up alone.

      ‘No more tears now.’ His voice, sounding strangely sympathetic, shocked her back to reality. With a jerk Estelle lifted her head, wiping hastily at her wet face, embarrassed and uneasy because of his close, close proximity, because she was aware of the fact that, in that brief moment of being held, everything had felt a hundred times better, when in reality of course it was all a hundred times worse, more complicated, more confusing because Hunter was here, treating her like a human being, and Joseph, his son, was lying asleep only six feet away from him. ‘I’ve made your suit wet. Sorry about that.’ She tried to smile and failed miserably, sliding her eyes from his face, biting down hard on her trembling bottom lip. ‘I...I don’t know what came over me. The shock, I suppose.’

      ‘You look very tired.’ His dark eyes studied her face impassively. ‘It can’t be easy bringing up a baby alone. You are alone, I presume?’ he added smoothly, not releasing her as she had expected but tilting her chin with one long finger, looking down at her with that all-seeing piercing black gaze. ‘There’s no husband or boyfriend around to help?’

      ’N-no. Just me.’ Estelle risked a wary look. ‘I’m OK,’ she added swiftly; ‘’I manage fine. I know this place isn’t much to look at. I know this area’s rough and tatty but—’

      ‘Stop trying so hard, Estelle,’ Hunter murmured steadily, stroking a strand of hair back from the side of her face, allowing his hand to rest lightly on the wayward curls that tumbled in a glossy mass to Estelle’s shoulders. ‘You’re very young. How old are you? Eighteen? Nineteen? To have so much responsibility at your age,’ Hunter continued after Estelle nodded silently, ‘can’t be easy.’

      ‘I...I manage.’ Her voice was barely a whisper. For some reason she couldn’t think straight. She knew she shouldn’t be this close, allowing him to talk to her like this, to touch her with hands that were so manly, with their covering of dark, dark hair and strong fingers, but she didn’t seem able to take control, to pull away as she surely knew she should. ‘I...I never thought it would be easy,’ she murmured breathlessly, gazing helplessly up into the dark, angled features.

      ‘No, of course you didn’t.’ His voice was suddenly husky. Low and soft, glistening with sudden, open sensuality.

      Maybe if Estelle had been experienced, if she had known just a little about men, about herself and the effect her wide, appealing eyes and sweet, open expression could have on the opposite sex, she might have been prepared, might have guessed the intention in Hunter’s eyes. But men, real men had never been a part of her life; she had simply never before been in contact with someone even remotely as devastating as Hunter, even remotely as dangerous. All the members of the opposite sex she had ever known had been the usual spotty, awkward youths at school and then college—to compare them to someone like Hunter was about as intelligent as comparing a kitten with a tiger.

      So it wasn’t until his head lowered towards hers, it wasn’t until his arms fell from her shoulders to her waist, drawing her close towards his firmly muscled body, that she realised what was happening.

      But by then of course it was too late—far too late.

      His mouth covered her lips in one swift movement and in that sharp, totally illuminating second she understood the true meaning of sexual chemistry, found herself acquainted with a sharp urgent twist of pure unexpected desire as, shockingly, she allowed him to drag her closer still, allowed his lips to move slowly over her mouth as he plundered the soft interior with a command and ease that took her breath away. Three or four slow seconds of exquisite torture, her mind screaming wildly at her, while her heart hammered in her chest and her body became yielding and supple under the absolute command of his touch, the thrill of his slow, erotic kiss.

      When he finally released her and the madness ended as swiftly as it had begun, she was shaking like a leaf, staring up into the angled face with an expression that portrayed every ounce of her confusion and shock.

      ‘I never knew I had a weakness for such sweet, childlike vulnerability,’ he murmured huskily.

      ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’ Estelle’s eyes were bleak as the realisation of what she had allowed to happen dawned on her. She stared up into the stunning, unrepentant face and forced herself to feel cold, chilling dislike for a man who could take such ruthless advantage.

      ‘Why not?’ His tone held not one shred of remorse. ‘I thought it might make you feel better. Concentrate your mind on other things.’ The dark eyes glittered amusement. ‘And I can see it’s worked—you look quite different now. Shocked, angry, almost fierce. Now don’t spoil everything, Estelle.’ His hand had snaked forward, grasped her raised arm in one smooth movement. ‘You’ve been watching too many films. Slapping my face after such a mutually enjoyable exprience isn’t really appropriate, is it?’

      Estelle jerked away from the circle of his arms and mercifully found her grip released. ‘I know what’s appropriate!’ she retorted tightly. ‘I don’t need some sort of...of patronising lecture from you! And...and how dare you kiss me СКАЧАТЬ