The Christmas Eve Bride. Lynne Graham

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СКАЧАТЬ the regular banks are still shedding staff practically by the day so I couldn’t find another opening,’ Amber admitted, tight-mouthed, hating the necessity of letting him know that she had struggled but failed to find similar employment. ‘I also suspect that, whenever a reference was taken up with my former employers, the knives came out—’

      ‘Possibly,’ Rocco mused in the same noncommittal tone. ‘But had you stayed in London—’

      ‘Being out of work in a big city is expensive. I hadn’t been with Woodlawn Wyatt long enough to qualify for a redundancy payment. I moved in with my sister for a while—’

      ‘This is a rural area but it’s also part of the commuter belt. Surely you could have found employment more—’

      Her patience gave out. ‘Look, I’m happy as I am and I only came up here in the first place to ask you to back off and just forget you ever saw me!’

      Rocco lounged back against the polished footboard on the elegant sleigh bed, bringing their eyes into sudden direct contact and somehow making her awesomely aware that they were in a bedroom together. ‘Do you really mean that?’

      Amber blinked but it didn’t break the mesmerising hold of his arresting dark golden eyes for long enough to stifle the terrifying tide of sheer physical longing that washed over her. Memory was like a cruel hook dragging her down into a dangerous undertow of intimate images she was already fighting not to recall. Rocco tumbling her down on his bed and kissing her with the explosive force that charged her up with the passion she had never been able to resist; Rocco’s expert hands roving over her to waken her in the morning; the sheer joy of being wanted more than she had ever been wanted by anyone in her entire life.

      ‘What are you t-talking about?’ Amber stammered, dredging herself out of those destabilising and enervating memories.

      ‘Do you really want me to forget I ever saw you?’ Rocco viewed her steadily from beneath inky black lashes longer than her own.

      ‘What else?’ Already conscious of her heightened colour and quickened breathing, Amber was very still for every fibre of her being was awake to the smouldering atmosphere that had come up out of nowhere to entrap her.

      ‘Liar…’ The effect of the husky reproof Rocco delivered was infinitely less than the sudden sensual smile of amusement that curled his wide, eloquent mouth.

      Images from a distant, happier past assailed Amber: the sound of a smile in his deep voice on the phone, the feeling of euphoria, of being appreciated when he looked at her in just that way. What way? As if there were only the two of them in the whole wide world, as if she was someone special. Before Rocco came along, nobody had ever made Amber feel special or important or needed.

      Her breath catching in her throat, she stared back at him, wholly enchanted by the charisma of that breathtaking smile. ‘I’m not lying…’ she muttered without even being aware of what she was saying.

      Rocco reached out and closed his hands over hers. At first contact, a helpless shiver ran through her. Slowly, he smoothed out her tightly clenched fingers, one by one. Like a rabbit caught in car headlights, she gazed up at him, heart banging against her ribcage, aware only of him and the seductive weakness induced by the heat blossoming inside her. He eased her inches closer. His warmth, the feel of his skin on hers again, the powerful intoxicant of his familiar scent overpowered her senses.

      ‘I said I wouldn’t touch you again if I was dying but…’ The rasp of his voice travelled down her responsive spine like hot, delicious honey.

      ‘But?’

      ’Dio…’ Rocco husked, drawing her the last couple of inches. ‘I believe I could be persuaded otherwise, tabbycat…’

      The sound of that endearment made her melt.

      ‘However, you would have to promise to keep it quiet—’

      ‘Quiet?’ All concentration shot, she didn’t grasp what he was talking about.

      ‘I don’t want to open a newspaper on Monday morning to find out how I scored between the sheets again—’

      ‘Sorry…?’

      Without warning, Rocco released her hands and, since he was just about all that was holding her upright on her wobbling lower limbs, she almost fell on top of him. He righted her again with deft cool. ‘Think about it,’ he advised, stepping away from her.

      For an instant, Amber hovered, breathing in deep, striving to get her brain into gear again. She did not have to think very hard. ‘Apart from the obvious, what are you trying to imply?’

      ‘I’m bored this weekend and you challenged me.’

      In considerable emotional disarray as she appreciated that she had been standing there transfixed and hypnotised, entirely entrapped by the sexual power he had exercised over her, Amber spun round. ‘I beg your pardon?’

      Rocco sent her a sizzling glance of mockery. ‘Maybe I want to see you faking it for my benefit.’

      Amber reddened to the roots of her hair. ‘No chance,’ she said curtly and stepped past him to hurry back out to the sitting room.

      Without the slightest warning whatsoever, the door she was heading for opened and Kaye Winton walked in. At the sight of Amber, she frowned in astonishment, pale blue eyes rounding. ‘What are you doing up here?’

      Mind a complete blank, Amber found herself glancing in desperation at Rocco.

      Brilliant dark eyes gleaming, Rocco said, ‘I asked for someone to remove the flowers.’

      ‘The flowers?’ the beautiful brunette questioned.

      ‘I’m allergic to them.’ Rocco told the lie with a straight face.

      ‘Oh, no!’ Kaye surged over to the centre table as if jet-propelled. Gathering up the giant glass vase, she planted it bodily into Amber’s hastily extended arms. ‘Take them away immediately. I’m so sorry, Rocco!’

      Her sweater soaked by the water that had slopped out of the vase with the other woman’s careless handling, Amber headed for the corridor at speed, her shaken expression hidden by the mass of trendy corkscrew twigs and lilies she had arranged earlier that day. It was ironic that she should be grateful for Rocco’s quick thinking, even more relieved that her employer’s wife had not come in a minute sooner and found her in his bedroom. How on earth would she ever have explained that?

      Indeed, how could she even explain to herself why she had allowed Rocco to behave as he had? She had acted like a doll without mind or voice and offered no objection to his touching her. Sick with shame at her own weakness, Amber disposed of the floral arrangement and pulled on her work boots again with unsteady hands. Rocco was bored. Rocco was playing manipulative games with her to amuse himself. Dear heaven, that hurt her so much. And she knew it shouldn’t hurt, knew she should have been fully on her guard and capable of resisting Rocco’s smouldering sexuality.

      Wasn’t she supposed to hate him? Well, hatred had kept her far from cool when he’d turned up the heat. And there she was blaming him when she ought to be blaming herself! Rocco had made her want him again…instantly, easily, reawakening the hunger she had truly believed she had buried for СКАЧАТЬ