A Weekend To Remember. Miranda Lee

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      Recalling her husband’s infidelity renewed her resolve to do whatever she could to stop Jack from marrying that amoral woman. She would let Jack believe what he liked about their relationship provided he stayed up here with her, alone and away from Felicia’s influence. Of course, that didn’t include sleeping with him. That was carrying gratitude too far!

      Gritting her teeth, Hannah pulled the car up next to the front steps and switched off the ignition.

      ‘You go on inside,’ she told Jack briskly.

      ‘There’s a big brass key in the geranium pot on the top step which opens the front door. Your bedroom will be the first on the right. I’ll get your things.’

      He frowned. ‘When did you get my things?’

      ‘While you were asleep. Come, now, no more questions, remember? Just accept I have everything in hand.’

      ‘My ever-efficient Hannah,’ he said, opening his door. ‘How did I ever manage before you came along?’

      Hannah knew what he was referring to. She often did little domestic chores for him, like delivering and picking up his dry-cleaning. She also took care of his personal bills, which he had a tendency to overlook when he was busy on a new project.

      ‘At least now I’ll never have to manage without you again,’ he said, his smile disturbingly tender.

      Hannah sat, transfixed, when he unexpectedly leant back over and took her mouth with his in an incredibly gentle kiss. The softly sensuous contact of his lips brushing hers sent little shivers of delight running up and down her spine. She stared at him as his head lifted, stared deep into those deep blue eyes, true panic welling up within her.

      No, no, came the frantic thought. I can’t allow this kind of thing to happen. It’s not fair to him, or to me. I must speak now—tell him the truth before it’s too late.

      But then he kissed her again, not quite so gently, and immediately she lost the plot. Common sense kept telling her to keep her lips shut, but her lips didn’t seem to be connected to her brain.

      His tongue swept deep into her mouth, and she felt it all the way down to her toes. When she moaned, his hands cupped her face, holding it captive as his kiss grew more and more demanding. And more and more seductive. Hannah ached to surrender to its heat, and to its promise of more to come. It had been so long since she’d been kissed like this. Too long, obviously.

      Guilt finally fought its way through Hannah’s scrambled thought-processes, and she wrenched her mouth away from his, pulling back out of his grasp. ‘No, stop!’ she gasped. ‘I can’t let you do this.’

      ‘Why not?’ he returned thickly.

      Because I don’t love you, she could have said. Because you’re not my fiancé. Because my response comes from nothing but years of frustration and neglect.

      But Jack wasn’t in a fit state for the truth tonight. And neither was she. Maybe in the morning.

      ‘Your…your headache,’ she said instead.

      ‘What headache?’

      ‘Jack, stop it. You promised. I…I can’t handle this just now. And neither can you. The doctor said you had to rest. You might be suffering from concussion. The last activity you need is anything to get your blood pressure up. Surely this can wait till you’re better?’

      Jack let out a shuddering sigh. ‘You’re no doubt right. But damn it all, Hannah, I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, and what it must be like between us. Hell, it must be incredible to have propelled us into a level 01 caring and commitment that didn’t exist six weeks ago. Surely you can understand my curiosity…’

      Everything inside Hannah tightened when Jack reached out to lay a tender hand against her cheek. His blue eyes, normally so cool and businesslike, washed over her with a passionate warmth which had a decidedly heating effect on her blood.

      ‘Now that I’ve had a small taste of what’s to come,’ he said, ‘I have to admit my impatience to have you in my arms. Besides, I rather like the idea of making love to you while I can’t remember. It would be like experiencing our first time over again.’

      ‘Jack, please don’t make it hard for me to keep saying no,’ she pleaded, and meant it. For, astonishingly, she was tempted to go to bed with him.

      It wasn’t love, or even lust, she believed. To be honest, Jack wasn’t her physical type at all. She’d always been attracted to fair-haired, smoothly elegant men like Dwight. It had to be because she just wanted to be wanted. Wanted to be needed. Wanted to be stroked and kissed and told she was desirable and beautiful.

      Hannah was amazed—and rather shocked—at how strongly she was tempted to take advantage of the situation she’d created with her impulsive deception. Only the realisation that Jack would eventually get his memory back stopped her. As it was, she was still probably going to lose her job over this. Things had already got further out of hand than she’d ever anticipated.

      ‘This weekend we’re just good friends,’ she stated stiffly. ‘Nothing more.’

      ‘We’ll see, Hannah,’ he muttered, his hand dropping away from her cheek. ‘We’ll see.’

      ‘I mean it, Jack,’ she said, her voice hardening further. ‘Till you get your memory back, our relationship is strictly platonic.’

      ‘And what if I said I’ve already got my memory back?’ he tossed back, watching her face all the while.

      Hannah was only shaken for a split-second. ‘You’d be lying,’ she said, quite confidently.

      ‘How can you be sure?’

      ‘I just can.’

      ‘Hmm. Now, I wonder why that is, Hannah, love? What else has happened during the last six weeks to make you sure I’m still in the dark? No, don’t tell me. I don’t think I want to know. Not tonight. The morning will be soon enough to find out the awful truth. Tonight I think I’d best remain in blessed oblivion.’

       CHAPTER THREE

      BLESSED oblivion…

      I could do with some of that, Hannah thought ruefully as she bent to put another log on the fire.

      She stayed on her haunches, staring blankly into the flames, wishing she had never started any of this. It had been a crazy idea. She should have just told Jack the truth right away—all of it-and let him handle the situation with Felicia as he saw fit. He didn’t need a mother to hold his hand. He was a grown man.

      It had been a mistake in judgement to embark on this ridiculous deception—a silly, impulsive reaction which she hadn’t thought through at all properly.

      But it was not too late to tell Jack the truth. By morning it might be, however. By then he might well have regained his memory, and he would be furious with her. Not only furious, but suspicious of her motives in doing such a thing. He might even harbour doubts over her story about Felicia СКАЧАТЬ