Sharon Kendrick Collection. Sharon Kendrick

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      ‘Sabrina,’ he said softly, ‘are we going to fight about this all night?’

      ‘No, we aren’t.’ She drew a deep breath. They weren’t going to fight about anything and she was going to be very calm and grown-up about what she had to say. ‘We ought to talk about me going.’

      He went very still, as though he hadn’t heard her properly. ‘Going?’ he echoed. ‘What are you talking about?’ His voice softened. ‘Aren’t you taking things a little too far, princess? I know what we did was pretty wham-bam-and-thank-you-ma’am, but there’s no need to overreact.’

      ‘This has nothing to do with this morning.’ But she forced herself to remember that brutal and loveless kiss, and that somehow made what she had to say all the easier. ‘I only came here on a temporary basis, remember? And the six weeks are nearly up.’

      If she’d detonated a small bomb on the carpet in front of him he couldn’t have been more shell-shocked. Her stay had merged into one pleasurable and sensual blur. Had she really been here for that long? Guy stared at her. ‘But you aren’t really going?’

      It was a million miles away from the ‘please, don’t go’ she’d been hopelessly praying for. She kept her face carefully composed. ‘I have to, Guy—I won’t have a job after next Friday, and they won’t hold my job in Salisbury. Believe it or not, jobs in bookshops are highly sought-after.’

      He could believe it quite easily—but then he’d seen her at work. A meeting had been cancelled and he’d called for her unexpectedly one lunchtime, dismissively waving away her protests that she’d brought a sandwich with her.

      ‘We’ll feed it to the pigeons,’ he’d murmured, thinking that the books and the old polished wood of the shop only seemed to enhance her bright-haired beauty. One look at Sabrina sitting busy at her desk, and any sane person would have thought it the most perfect job in the world.

      ‘So leave.’ He shrugged.

      Sabrina froze. ‘Leave?’

      Guy gave a slow smile. ‘Sure. I can support you.’

      ‘I don’t want your support,’ she said stiffly. ‘Or your charity.’

      ‘Sabrina.’ His voice softened as he walked across the room and sat down beside her on the sofa, not missing the almost imperceptible shift of her body as she leaned away from him. ‘It’s not charity. I earn obscene amounts of money—’

      ‘You said it, Guy.’

      His eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t need to work,’ he said quietly.

      ‘I don’t need to work?’ she repeated in disbelief, before leaping to her feet to stare down at him in an angry blaze. ‘Says who? Says you! Well, if that’s the case, you don’t know anything, Guy, not really!’

      ‘Oh? This is fast becoming a real home-truth session,’ he drawled. ‘Do continue, Sabrina—I’m fascinated.’

      ‘Don’t you have any idea about my need for independence?’ she stormed, ignoring the dangerous note in his voice. ‘Or did you think I would just fall to the ground in a grateful heap because you’ve offered to “support” me?’

      ‘Clearly not,’ came the dry retort. A lot of women would have done. His mother, for example, had never forgotten what he’d done for her. But that had been different. That had been called survival.

      Jenna, he realised, would have adored the idea. So would many of the other trust-fund babes. Not Sabrina, though, he realised slowly. Her principles were in a different class.

      ‘It’s your flat!’ she stormed. ‘You have all the control here—so just imagine if you started paying for me, too. How unequal would that make things? At least buying groceries now and then makes me feel as though I’m doing my bit!’

      He looked at her steadily. ‘So what do you suggest we do?’

      She looked at him sadly, realising that she’d talked herself into a corner. There was no solution—or at least not one that would make her happy. Only one thing could do that, and he wasn’t offering her permanence.

      Because if she accepted his offer to stay while he supported her, then where would that leave her? Busy clinging on to a relationship which would grow increasingly more one-sided.

      Even if she found herself another job here in London, wouldn’t that just be postponing the inevitable heartbreak when he tired of her?

      ‘I’ll leave at the end of next week,’ she said impassively. ‘As orginally planned.’

      Guy’s body quickened, even as his heart felt the unfamiliar pang of rejection. But if she was expecting him to beg her to change her mind, she had a lot to learn about him. Needing something enough to beg made you vulnerable, and he had once made a vow never to be vulnerable again. He paused. ‘So, until you go, will we continue as…before, Sabrina?’

      How very delicately phrased, she thought with a slight tinge of hysteria. ‘You mean, will I be sharing your bed at night?’

      He thought that there were a few more flattering ways she could have described it. ‘That’s exactly what I mean,’ he answered coolly.

      Her hunger for him warred with her self-respect, but it was never going to be much of a battle. She thought about how bleak her future would be without him, and knew that she wanted to savour every last, glorious moment. ‘Ask me tonight,’ she said flippantly.

      He knew from the darkening of her eyes just what her answer would be, but any triumph was eclipsed by a slow, ticking anger. So she thought she could just play cat and mouse with him when it suited her, did she?

      He rose to his feet with stealthy grace and pulled her into his arms without warning. ‘Why don’t I ask you now?’ he drawled, before claiming her mouth in a kiss which had her reeling.

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      SABRINA let herself into the flat with a heavy heart and went to put the shopping in the kitchen.

      Two more days. Just two.

      It was inconceivable. Especially as Guy had spent the last few days seemingly hell-bent on showing her just what she would be missing. He didn’t seem satisfied until he had her sobbing out her shuddering pleasure, night after night…but he’d never asked her to stay.

      She made herself a coffee and then went to stand at the window, where the bright hues of early summer dazzled from the garden in the square. How on earth could she ever go back to being what she had been?

      Or maybe that was the wrong way to look at it. She could never really go back to being the old Sabrina—there was a new one now, ready and willing to take her place. And rebirth, like birth, was always painful. Why else would she feel this terrible, tearing pain at the thought of never seeing Guy Masters again?

      Would he miss her? she wondered achingly. Probably, just a little, yes. And certainly in bed. But the missing, like their relationship, would be unequal. Guy called the shots and Guy had СКАЧАТЬ