Stolen Feelings. Margaret Mayo

Чтение книги онлайн.

       CHAPTER THREE

      JULIE had heard no movement behind her; Cameron had approached with all the stealth of a tiger. She swung around, her heart hammering unsteadily in her breast. ‘I’m not doing anything.’

      ‘It looks to me as though you’re asking for trouble,’ he growled.

      She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’ He was still wearing the same shirt and trousers as earlier, though whether he had pulled them on again when he saw her, or whether he had not yet gone to bed, Julie had no idea. She did not even know what time it was.

      Cameron’s eyes glittered. ‘I’m sure you’re not unaware that the moon shining on you renders your nightdress virtually transparent. And that knitted thing doesn’t hide much.’

      Julie’s heart went into panic. How long had he stood watching her before making his presence known? And how much could he see? ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she retorted defensively, clutching the cardigan tightly around her throat as if by so doing it gave her some form of protection.

      ‘It cannot have escaped your notice that most of the tents are open-sided. If any of the men are awake they will not have failed to see you out here.’

      And he thought she was doing it deliberately! Her chin came up. ‘Then they will not have failed to see that you followed me. What do you think they will make of that?’ And why was his opinion of her so very, very low?

      The chiselled planes of his face grew harder and more angular; his mouth tightened. ‘If they have assessed the situation correctly they will know I have come to warn you.’ His voice was dangerously low, a threatening growl that shivered across Julie’s cruelly exposed nerve-endings.

      She held the neck of her cardigan with both hands, her arms pressed close to her sides,

      ‘You have been here less than twelve hours, Mrs Drummond,’ he went on, ‘and already you are becoming a nuisance.’

      His constant formality unnerved her. Despite Ian’s confidence, she felt sure Cameron suspected all was not as it should be. He watched them too closely, too often, and always there was calculation in his eyes. Why he should be suspicious, she did not know, but she was sure he was.

      He moved so that his back was to the moon instead of hers, and she imagined it was to see her face more clearly, put her at an even bigger disadvantage.

      She gave a tiny laugh, recalling Ian’s plea that she try to get on with his boss. ‘Why is it that I cannot seem to do anything right?’

      Brows lifted. ‘Surely it’s a matter of basic intelligence?’

      ‘Haven’t you ever had women working here before?’

      He inclined his head. ‘Yes, we’ve had female scientists.’

      ‘And were you as much on their backs as you are mine?’

      His mouth twisted. ‘It wasn’t necessary. For one thing they did not flaunt themselves.’

      ‘Flaunt?’ echoed Julie, all her good intentions fading. ‘Is that what you think I’m doing? Heavens, Mr Storm, you’re seeing things that are not there.’

      ‘I don’t think so,’ he answered. ‘No woman can be as subliminally unaware of what she is doing as you’re suggesting.’

      Julie shook her head violently, her hair, which she had taken out of its pins when she went to bed, falling forward over her face. ‘What’s the point in trying to defend myself,’ she asked crossly, ‘when you’ll believe only what you want to believe? I’m going back to bed.’

      But before she had even turned he reached out, and to her utter amazement began stroking back the hair from her face. ‘Your hair looks blue in the moonlight,’ he muttered. ‘It has the gloss of a raven’s wing.’

      So had his, she thought. It was odd that her hair should be the same colour as Cameron’s, whereas her twin’s was so much lighter. He seemed mesmerised by it, and when his fingers accidentally brushed her cheek Julie felt as though a thousand volts of electricity had shot through her.

      At exactly the same instant Cameron withdrew, as though he had felt her reaction—or as though he had been testing her! Was this what it was all about? Was this why he had joined her, why he had touched her? Was he checking her loyalty to Ian?

      Julie’s heart thudded fit to burst and she looked into his eyes with something approaching panic, praying with all her heart that he hadn’t sensed her reaction. It seemed forever that they held each other’s gaze, even though it could have been for no more than a fraction of a second. Then with a cry like a startled bird Julie raced back to her tent.

      ‘Julie!’ Cameron’s low voice came to her in the velvety softness of the night, but she ignored it. Whatever he had to say could only be to her shame, to her detriment. She had been in very grave danger of giving herself away, of putting Ian’s job at risk.

      Upon reaching the tent, she dived inside and threw herself down on the bed. Her heart pounded so loudly that it echoed in her ears, her pulses raced and every limb trembled. And all because of one man! All because Cameron Storm had touched her! It didn’t bear thinking about.

      ‘Where have you been?’ Ian’s gruff, sleepy voice startled her.

      ‘Did I wake you? I’m sorry. I—I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk.’ She tried desperately to control her breathing.

      ‘Oh.’ He seemed satisfied, turned over, and was asleep again within seconds.

      It seemed an aeon before Julie finally drifted into sleep, her mind tormented, her very sanity threatened. She must never let herself get into such a volatile situation again. She even began to wonder whether it had been her imagination. that Cameron had touched her and sparked off this reaction. Whatever, he was a dangerous man, and she had to steer clear of him.

      Ian was awake and dressed before Julie even stirred. He touched her shoulder. ‘Time to get up, Sis.’

      Her eyes shot wide instantly.

      ‘You’re supposed to be helping with cooking breakfast, and there are packed lunches to be put up. If you don’t want to incur Cameron’s wrath again you’d better get moving.’

      Mention of her protagonist’s name was enough to galvanise Julie into action, and by the time the rest of the team put in an appearance the trestle-tables were laid, sausages and eggs cooked, bread sliced, tea and coffee made. All with Raul’s help, of course. СКАЧАТЬ