In Bed With...Collection. Emma Darcy
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Название: In Bed With...Collection
Автор: Emma Darcy
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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He left her grinning, enjoying the back view of him as he headed off to the bathroom. Only when this vision was cut off did she swing her legs off the window-seat and set about ordering their breakfast, choosing what she wanted herself and hoping Jake would be pleased with everything.
He came out of the bathroom, wearing the other bathrobe and checking his watch. ‘It’s eight o’clock now. How long before room service arrives?’
‘About another twenty minutes.’
The dark eyes twinkled sexily. ‘Only time for a good-morning kiss then. And no disrobing.’
‘We have the rest of the day,’ she suggested happily as he drew her into his embrace.
He frowned. ‘No. No we don’t. There’s work I have to get done on the house before the plumber comes tomorrow.’
‘Can I help you?’ she asked impulsively, wanting to be with him.
He shook his head. ‘You would be a major distraction, Laura. I’ll work more efficiently on my own.’
He grazed his lips over hers—a distraction that didn’t quite soothe the stab of disappointment over the rejection of her offer. She told herself his reasoning was fair enough and opened her mouth for a whole-hearted kiss. He’d given her a wonderful night and there would be more in the future. No need to be greedy, asking for today, as well.
It was a soft, very sensual kiss, and he withdrew from it before it escalated into wild passion, brushing her hair tenderly from her face, smiling into her eyes. ‘Thank you for last night. We’ll do it again soon,’ he promised her.
‘Thank you. I’ll look forward to it,’ she said, inwardly craving much more from him but doing her best to accept the situation gracefully.
‘I’ll book a taxi to take you from the hotel to Eddie’s apartment after we’ve had breakfast.’ He stepped back from her and moved towards the telephone on the desk, asking, ‘Where does he live, Laura?’
‘Paddington.’
‘That’s handy.’ He grinned at her as he picked up the receiver. ‘We can share the taxi. I’ll see you to his place first before going on home.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘Next suburb. Woollahra.’
Virtually in walking distance from Eddie’s apartment, she thought, watching him make the call. She wanted to ask what street, but held her tongue, knowing she would be tempted to go there and suddenly frightened of how deeply she was being drawn by this man.
Jake didn’t want a full-on relationship. He’d told her so at dinner last night. And she had been super-cautious about going down that road, too. Obviously nothing had changed for him. It shouldn’t have changed for her, either. She had to keep her head straight about this, not get twisted up by emotions that could mess with the decisions she’d made about her life.
A journey with meeting places.
Best to keep to that.
But somehow she couldn’t really take pleasure in the breakfast they shared. It didn’t sit right in her stomach. And she hated the taxi trip to Paddington, knowing Jake was travelling on without her. It took an act of will to smile her goodbye at him. And then, of course, she had to face Eddie and say everything had been fine.
Which was the truth.
Though not quite.
It had been fantastic, brilliant, totally engaging.
Too engaging.
And that was dangerous.
TO Eddie’s inevitable query about her night with Jake Freedman, she breezily answered, ‘Great food, great sex, and marriage is not on the menu for either of us so don’t worry about my becoming a victim of secret agendas. That’s definitely out!’
Later in the day, she settled her mother’s concern with, ‘It won’t become a serious relationship, Mum. It was just a dinner date, which I might or might not repeat.’ With a mischievous smile, she added, ‘Depends on how good the restaurant is if he asks me out again.’
It made her mother laugh. ‘Oh, you and food!’
And she cut off her father’s probe into the personal connection by regaling him with details of every spicy dish she’d tasted, virtually dismissing Jake’s company as pleasant enough but relatively unimportant.
However, it was easier to establish in other people’s minds that an involvement with Jake was not a big issue than it was to convince herself. Life simply wasn’t the same as before she met him. He dominated her thoughts, especially at night when she was alone in bed, her body restless with memories of their intense intimacy. It was impossible to block him out for long and she grew angry and frustrated with herself for not being able to set him at a sensible distance, especially as day followed day without any contact from him.
He hadn’t given her his mobile telephone number.
He obviously had a silent land number at his Woollahra home because his name wasn’t listed in the telephone directory.
No way could she call him at work because her father might get to hear about it.
Control of any connection between them was all on his side and she had no control whatsoever over yearning to be reconnected. Which was turning her into a stupid, love-sick cow and she hated being like that, hated it so much when he did finally call her on Friday afternoon, the zoom of pleasure at hearing his voice was speared through by resentment at his power to affect her so deeply. She only grudgingly managed a polite ‘Hi!’ to his greeting.
He didn’t seem to notice any coldness in her response, rolling straight into the business of the call without any personal enquiries about her or her well-being. ‘I’ve been trying all week to book us a table at one of your top restaurants for tomorrow night. Can’t be done. They’re all booked up and there hasn’t been any cancellations. However, I have managed to get us a table at Peter Gilmore’s Quay restaurant for next Saturday night. Is that okay with you?’
Peter Gilmore’s Quay—listed as one of the top fifty restaurants in the world! It was a totally irresistible invitation. A rush of excited enthusiasm flooded over all other feelings.
‘Fantastic!’ tripped off her tongue. ‘I saw his amazing Snow Egg dessert on a television show. It started with a layer of guava purée mixed with whipped cream. On top of that was guava-flavoured crushed ice. Then a meringue shaped like an egg and an inside that was creamy custard apple. It was topped off with a thin layer of toffee melted over it. Absolutely to die for!’
His laughter flowed through her like a fountain of joy. She couldn’t help smiling, couldn’t help feeling happy.
‘Shall we meet there at seven o’clock? Same as last time?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
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