Bedded At His Convenience. Margaret Mayo

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      ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ exclaimed Keisha. ‘What’s that got to do with it? Mrs Smith—she used to pop round for a cup of tea now and then. Sometimes I’d take her shopping. She was very bad on her feet. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?’ she asked sarcastically. ‘You were never home long enough to get to know your neighbours.’

      ‘OK, enough about this Mrs Smith,’ he said. ‘I’m more interested in where you ran away to. Your mother was very protective of your privacy.’

      ‘What did you expect?’ asked Keisha. ‘Actually, I’m surprised you had time to search for me.’

      His brows drew into a harsh frown. ‘You really believe I thought so little of you—and our marriage?’

      Keisha shrugged. ‘It’s the impression you gave.’

      ‘You didn’t think it strange that I didn’t try to find you?’

      ‘I did, yes,’ she admitted. ‘But it simply confirmed my belief that you put your work first. Or that maybe you were relieved I’d given you the freedom to carry on your affairs?’

      Hunter hissed his anger, and he was silent for several long seconds, fighting his inner tension. Finally he sighed. ‘It just goes to prove that you never really knew me. Where did you go?’

      ‘Scotland,’ she admitted quietly and reluctantly. ‘I rented a cottage and found myself a job.’

      There must have been something in her voice, because Hunter frowned, his brows drawing together in total incredulity. ‘Scotland? About as far away as you could go without leaving the country. What did your mother think about you living so far away?’

      ‘We were in touch daily.’

      ‘But you didn’t come back down to see her?’ His tone was growing more and more disbelieving. And his voice was getting louder and louder.

      ‘I did occasionally,’ she admitted. ‘Naturally I’d have much rather she came to me, but she wasn’t in—’

      ‘You were afraid of bumping into me?’ he interrupted abrasively.

      Keisha didn’t have to answer; it was there in her eyes.

      ‘Do you still hate me, Keisha?’

      ‘I’ve never hated you, Hunter,’ she answered, quietly and truthfully. ‘I simply wasn’t happy in our marriage. I wanted more from life.’

      ‘But you don’t love me either?’ His voice was equally low, and his eyes never left hers.

      Keisha shook her head, at the same time shaking off the sensation of closeness that had suddenly overwhelmed her. ‘No!’ She shifted uneasily. Because, although she didn’t love him, she still found him devastatingly sexy. He still managed to arouse feelings inside her body that she would rather were not there.

      A tiny smile played about Hunter’s generous lips.

      Heaven help her if he ever found out the truth, Keisha thought to herself! One inch of encouragement and he would have her in his bed again before she could even think about it.

      ‘So what sort of work did you do in Scotland?’

      Keisha was relieved that he’d changed the subject. Their conversation had been getting far too intimate for her liking.

      ‘I worked in an advertising office.’

      Hunter’s brows rose. ‘Perhaps I know them?’

      ‘I wouldn’t think so,’ she said. ‘They were very small.’

      ‘Were you happy there?’

      Keisha nodded.

      ‘And you had a boyfriend to keep you company?’

      She let her breath out noisily. ‘Why do you keep asking? Of what interest is it to you?’

      Hunter lifted his shoulders in a lazy shrug, his lips twisting at the corners. ‘Perhaps I just want to find out whether he—they—matched up to me?’ But although he gave the impression of being relaxed there was a tautness about him that Keisha could not help but notice.

      He didn’t like to think that she’d been with any other man.

      ‘Such conceit!’ she tossed scornfully.

      And nor did she want to think about the good times they’d had. No one could ever match up to him; that was a fact. ‘How about you?’ she asked, turning the tables. ‘How many girlfriends have you had?’

      Dark brows rose. ‘Why should I have had any when the only girl I’ve ever truly loved walked out on me?’

      Keisha’s head jerked. ‘Don’t try to fool me. There have always been other women in your life.’

      Blue eyes met green. ‘I’m very serious. You’ve no idea, Keisha, how much you hurt me. When you filed for divorce I couldn’t believe it. I thought that when you’d had time to think things over you’d come back to me.’

      ‘Then you are either very stupid or very naïve,’ she declared strongly. ‘And I must be incredibly stupid to be sitting here having this conversation with you. It’s a complete waste of time.’

      ‘I’d like to take you out.’

      Keisha closed her eyes briefly. There was one part of her, very deep down inside, that wanted to say yes. The part she had thought was dead and now found was very much alive. But the sane part of her mind knew what a mistake it would be.

      Hunter had a massive ego if he really thought she would agree. ‘You’re unreal,’ she said.

      ‘Am I?’ he asked, his mouth curving into a smile. ‘Touch me. You’ll soon find out how real I am.’

      ‘You know what I’m talking about.’

      ‘No, I don’t. Tell me.’ He spread his hands expansively. ‘We have the whole evening.’

      Keisha felt as though she would die from asphyxiation if he didn’t go soon. He was taking all the air from the room, filling it with a black fear that was totally inexplicable. Unless it was the feelings he was still able to invoke inside her that she was afraid of.

      It was not a thought she found any pleasure in. In fact it both alarmed and horrified her. ‘No, we don’t have the whole evening,’ she said, quietly but firmly. ‘I want you to drink your coffee and go.’ She picked up her cup and took a swallow before realising that it was still too hot.

      Gallantly, though, she did not show it. She waited for him to follow suit, and willed him to scald his throat. She wanted him to suffer as she had suffered. He still seemed to have no idea how much he had hurt her.

      Although maybe—and it was just a little maybe—she was the one at fault. The simple truth was that she really hadn’t been mature enough for marriage. She’d had an idealistic dream of time spent СКАЧАТЬ