Red-Hot Affairs: The Crown Affair / Craving Her Enemy's Touch / A Lone Star Love Affair. Lucy King

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      Footsteps echoed down the stairs. His blood rushed to his head and he pushed himself away from his desk and leapt to his feet. He needed to get out, before he did something really rash like bundle her back upstairs and demand she show him the architectural features of his bedroom.

      He’d go and chop what was left of those logs. The release of hard physical work after spending months in stifling meeting rooms had worked earlier. It would work now. Just to be on the safe side he’d stay out there until she’d finished. If he ran out of logs, he’d fire up the lawnmower.

      And there was another benefit of his strategy, he thought, identifying the sound of a camera clicking coming from the drawing room and striding across the hall. Laura could let herself out. Once he’d told her where he was going he need never lay eyes on her ever again. And then maybe, just maybe, his body would stop twitching and aching and straining, and he’d regain some sort of equilibrium.

      Good. Excellent. It was a brilliant plan. With every step he took he could feel his head clearing and his sanity returning.

      Until he got to the doorway. Where he stopped dead.

      As he’d figured, Laura was in the drawing room. What he hadn’t allowed for was that she’d be investigating the fireplace. With her back to him, on her knees. With her legs spread and her bottom in the air.

      His gaze dropped, automatically zooming in on her bottom, and as his blood rushed to his feet and his body began to pound with lust the breath whooshed from his lungs and his brilliant plan turned to dust.

      Laura sensed Matt’s presence a nanosecond before she heard it. The nape of her neck pricked, her pulse skipped and goosebumps sprang up all over her skin. And then she caught the sharp exhalation of breath and the muttered oath, and with utter horror the picture she realised she must be presenting flashed into her head.

      Barely a minute ago she’d walked into the drawing room and immediately spied the ornamented fireback of the fireplace. She’d rattled off a couple of photos before hunkering down to take a closer look. As a result she was on her hands and knees, face to the stone and bottom to the air.

      Oh, God. A cold clammy sweat broke out over her entire body as mortification flooded through her. It was so not a good look. Heaven only knew what Matt must be thinking.

      Desperately seeking to claw back some kind of dignity, Laura clambered to her feet as elegantly and quickly as she could.

      Which would have been absolutely fine had she not been tucked inside a four-foot-high fireplace.

      Realisation came way too late.

      As did Matt’s shout of warning.

      With a sickening thud her skull cracked against solid seventeenth century stone. Her yelp of shock ricocheted around the fireplace. For a second she could feel absolutely nothing. Could see nothing but a fuzzy sort of blackness dotted with stars. Could hear nothing but the hammering of her heart.

      Then as the blackness faded an excruciating pain shot the entire length of her body and spread throughout her limbs. She let out an agonised gasp. Her stomach churned and sent a wave of nausea rolling into her throat. Her knees buckled and she crumpled. She screwed her eyes tight shut and braced herself for more unimaginable pain.

      Which didn’t come.

      How strange. Where was the agony? Where was the shock?

      Faintly bewildered, Laura just hung there for a second, suspended by two bands of steel that had come from who knew where and snapped round her waist. Come to think of it, what exactly was the solid thing she was pressed up against and why was her body suddenly zinging with electricity?

      Her heart beginning to pound even faster, Laura gingerly opened her eyes. And found herself staring straight up into Matt’s, so close, so dark and so focused on her that she nearly saw stars all over again.

      When he’d caught her he’d evidently had to clamp her to him. Now every inch of her body was plastered up against his and awareness fizzled along her nerve endings. She could feel the tension in his muscles as he held her. She could feel his heart banging against the palm of her hand. The intoxicating scent of him enveloped her, seeped into her head and made her dizzy.

      He was so close she could see flecks of gold in the brown of his eyes. So close his mouth was barely an inch from her own. The lingering traces of pain and shock receded and slow drugging desire began to hum in the pit of her stomach.

      Laura’s pulse leapt. Her lips actually tingled. All she’d have to do would be to lift her head a fraction and she could put an end to the speculation and find out exactly what he tasted like. Perhaps she could blame it on concussion, because, Lord, it was tempting.

      But it was also just not on, Laura reminded herself, dragging her gaze from Matt’s mouth and fixing it firmly on the wedge of tanned flesh exposed by the V of his T-shirt.

      The only reason she was in his house was because she’d guilt-tripped him into it. He didn’t really want her here and, as was clear from the scowl on his face, he wasn’t exactly ecstatic about having had to jump to her rescue.

      A kiss from her would be about as welcome to him as UPVC windows were to her. No doubt about it.

      Unfortunately knowing that wasn’t apparently enough to stop a deep sigh of longing escaping her lips.

      Heat rushed to her cheeks in the silence that followed. God, she really hoped Matt hadn’t caught that. And she really hoped he couldn’t feel her swelling breasts and hardening nipples press against his chest.

      But as his arms tightened around her any hope she might have had that he hadn’t noticed her reaction to him evaporated. Her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes jerked up and met his just in time to catch something flaring in the brown depths. Barely a flash, but it was enough to set her heart galloping and her head spinning. And then she felt another part of his anatomy flaring and the bottom fell out of her stomach.

      Oh, good Lord.

      It wasn’t just her. He felt it, too. Laura’s heart thumped. Judging by the impressive evidence swelling against her hip, Matt was as attracted to her as she was to him. His head was moving forward. His eyes were darkening as they roamed over her face, lingering on her mouth before sweeping back up to meet hers.

      For a split second delight shot through her and then quite suddenly panic elbowed the delight aside and thumped her squarely in the chest. Her nerves started to twist into a tangled mess.

      Oh, God. If Matt did want her as much as she wanted him then she ought to leave. As soon as possible.

      Because if he did make a move and kissed her, she’d never be able to resist. One thing would lead to another and another and another, and before she knew it she’d be back where she started, assertiveness course or no assertiveness course.

      It would be even worse if he didn’t kiss her. Because then the danger was that what with her highly unstable behaviour of late she’d be the one to make a move.

      Either way the outcome would be a disaster of epic proportions.

      So why wasn’t she pushing him away? Why was she letting him get closer?

      Time seemed to skid to a halt and Laura couldn’t move. СКАЧАТЬ