Название: Her Irresistible Protector
Автор: Michelle Douglas
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781472048240
isbn:
‘I stopped hating you for that years ago, Officer King.’
That Officer set his teeth on edge. She wanted to bait him, wanted to prick and needle him. Normally he could shrug that kind of thing off. He tried to focus on the content of the conversation rather than the tone. ‘If that’s the case, then what’s the problem?’
‘The problem is I haven’t forgiven you for using me to do it. I haven’t forgiven you for pretending to be in love with me, for making me trust you, and then betraying me the way you did.’
The accusation in her eyes cut at him. His mouth filled with acid. She’d given her friendship to him freely and he’d abused it. ‘Would it make a difference if I told you how sorry I am about that?’
‘No. And frankly, Mitch, I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just focus on getting through the next few days as easily and quickly as possible, all right?’
So that was what he could do with his olive branch, huh? Right. He nodded once and rolled his shoulders to try and ease the burn between them.
* * *
Tash tossed her head and tried to ignore the darkness in Mitch’s eyes. She reached up behind to scratch between her shoulder blades. ‘Is there anything else I need to know?’
He didn’t smile. The shadows in his eyes didn’t retreat. ‘Don’t go off on your own.’ He gestured to the coastal forest that surrounded them.
She tried to get the expression in his eyes out of her mind. He wasn’t some cute, roly-poly Labrador puppy she’d just kicked, but a grown man who’d screwed her over.
She puffed out a breath. She wanted—needed—him to keep his distance.
She scowled and glanced up into the never-ending blue of the sky. ‘We’re safe here, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Some semi-deranged criminals aren’t going to come crashing through the undergrowth, are they?’
He widened his stance. ‘Practically guaranteed not to happen. Next to nobody knows about this place.’
‘Right, then.’ She dusted off her hands. ‘I don’t see why we can’t carry on as we planned to before all of this nonsense.’
Three frown lines marred his forehead. ‘I’m not catching your drift.’
‘You’d planned on a few days R & R out here, right?’
‘Right.’ He drew the word out.
‘Me, too. Well, not here, obviously, but I’d planned on spending a significant amount of this coming week on a beach.’ She’d planned to travel five or six hours further up the coast, but...whatever. ‘And for the rest of it I was planning to read a big fat novel or two, order takeaway pizza, eat too much chocolate and not do a scrap of work.’
After three years of working without a break, she deserved a holiday.
‘You’re suggesting we holiday together?’
‘Not together!’
His lips twisted. ‘Of course not. My mistake.’
‘But...’ If she wasn’t going to worry herself into an early grave...‘Yes, to the holiday bit.’
He shifted his weight again and it drew her attention to the long, clean lines of his legs. Her mouth dried. ‘Except—’ she suddenly pointed at him ‘—you’re not to go strutting around without a stitch of clothing on like you probably do when you’re here on your own. Skinny-dipping is prohibited.’
She shouldn’t have thought of Mitch naked. A whole host of illicit images pounded at her. Her cheeks started to burn. Very slowly a grin spread across his face. Eyes as warm as Mediterranean nights urged her to drop the attitude. Hands that, apparently, hadn’t lost their allure for her over the past eight years tempted her to let down her guard. And the combined scent of mint and citrus curled around her, making her mouth water and an ache start up low in her belly.
Her chest cramped. Her pulse pounded. Her hands clenched.
His grin hooked up the right side of his mouth in the most intriguing way and her heart started to hammer. He leant in closer, swamping her with heat and mint and citrus. ‘It’d be almost worth it just to see the look on your face. You might have a smart mouth and attitude to burn, Tash Buckley, but I have a feeling it’d be as easy as ever to unsettle you.’
It couldn’t be possible! She fell back a step. She couldn’t still want Mitch after all this time.
‘Do it and I leave.’ Fear made her voice tart.
He eased back and the tropical blue of his eyes hardened to chips of ice. ‘Then you’d be a fool.’
Maybe, but at least she’d be a fool with her heart intact.
‘We carry on exactly as we’d planned...separately.’
She turned and stalked back towards the cabin.
It was only for a couple of days, three at most, she told herself, storming into the bedroom where Mitch had deposited her suitcase. She flung it open and with as much speed as possible slipped into her swimming costume. All she had to do was keep things polite and pleasant. She might have to work at it, but...
Pleasant? She grimaced and pulled a shirtdress on over her head. Okay, pleasant might not be possible, but polite—distantly polite...very distantly—that should be manageable. For heaven’s sake. The man was only doing his job. She owed him some measure of gratitude whether she liked it or not.
Okay, well, obviously she didn’t like it, but she could be adult about this. She gritted her teeth. She would be adult about this.
She practised a smile. There wasn’t a mirror in the bedroom to tell her how well she’d pulled it off. It felt plastic, but it had to be better than a snarl, right? She slipped her feet into flip-flops and sauntered back into the main room. Mitch sat at the table, just...
She swallowed. He just sat there.
She recalled his attempt to apologise.
She recalled the way she’d spurned it, threw it back in his face and her smile started to slip. With a Herculean effort she slotted it back into place. ‘Mitch?’
He glanced up. He took in her bare legs and something flashed in his eyes. An answering tightness clenched her stomach.
She shook herself. ‘I, um...’ She frowned and leaned towards him. ‘If I weren’t here, what would you be doing?’
He shrugged. It seemed casual but something told her it wasn’t. She swallowed and suspected her smile had become a grimace. ‘Well, if I were you, I’d get on with it.’
Unless it was walking around naked or skinny-dipping.
‘I suspect my being on the beach might cramp your style,’ he drawled, his eyes hard in a way that СКАЧАТЬ